Harry Potter and Friends Read...Goblet of Fire?

Harry

Harry: Hi!

Seamus: Hello to you too. Just read, would you?

Harry: Sure thing.

lay flat on his back,

Hermione: Maybe because he'd just been asleep?

Ginny: Well, anything is possible. Birds and horses go to sleep standing up. And so do cows because they'll die if they sleep on their sides.

Harry: Do I look like a bird or a horse to you? Or a cow, for that matter?

Ginny: Well...

Harry: On second thought, don't answer that.

Ginny: Okay. Fine by me.

breathing hard as though he had been running.

Dean: That often happens when you've had a bad dream.

Seamus: Well, since yours involve being chased by pigs wearing flamboyantly plaid kilts...

Dean: Shut up.

Lavender: *sniggers* They do?

Dean: *blushing* We-ell...not all the time...I mean, I do have normal dreams sometimes.

He had awoken from a vivid dream

Dean: See? I told you so.

Harry: Well, yes, except it really happened.

Percy: It did?

Harry: Yeah. It was the whole last chapter.

Percy: Oh. Right. I so knew that.

with his hands pressed over his face.

Luna: *actually listening for once* Why?

The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning,

Ginny: Like we didn't know that before...

was burning beneath his fingers

Dean: Then take your fingers off your forehead, dummy.

Percy: Dean, no name-calling.

Harry: Nah, he's fine.

as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin.

Luna: Oh. So that's why he had his hands over his forehead.

Neville: *curiously* Why was it hurting, though?

Harry: *quietly* Voldemort had a particularly strong emotion...you should know that, Neville.

Neville: Oh, yeah.

Parvati: Huh?

Harry: Whenever Voldemort is near me, or when he's feeling a particularly strong surge of emotion--hatred, happiness, whatever--my scar starts hurting.

Parvati: Oh. That must be pretty handy.

Harry: *agreeing* And pretty painful.

He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table.

Seamus: *yawns*

He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window.

Seamus: How exciting!

Dean: It's not going to be all thrills, Seamus. Life has its ups and downs, its boring and its exciting moments.

Seamus: This is still pretty dull.

Neville: I saw a book next to it in the library that looked a little newer, and I think it was about the fifth year. We could read that one instead...

Seamus: *very very VERY quickly* That's okay. Read on, Harry.

Harry: *clears his throat a couple times* Sure.

Harry ran his fingers over the scar again.

Parvati: Trying to see if it would erase, like chalk on a chalkboard.

It was still painful.

Percy: Hate to break it to you, sonny, but if someone had pressed a white-hot wire to your skin it wouldn't disappear in a couple seconds.

Harry: Unfortunately, that's too true. Pain is never momentary. Ever. Especially not when Voldemort is involved.

All except Harry/Hermione/Neville: *wince*

Harry: What? ...Oh, sorry.

He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and

Seamus: Had a flock of ducks fly straight into his face. One of them broke his nose and exploded.

Lavender: Thank you for that oh-so-lovely mental image.

Hermione: Besides, it was a goose, not a duck.

Seamus: Ducks are funnier.

peered into the mirror on the inside of the door.

Ron: Insecure, are we?

Harry: Wondering about my scar is all.

A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair.

Neville: Yup, looks like you, Harry.

Harry: Except for the fact that I'm seventeen instead of fourteen...

Ron: How can you tell age by looking at a person?

Percy: Well, you can look at someone and say, "They look about thirty" or "he looks about three".

Ron: True...

He examined the lighting-bolt scar of his reflection more closely.

Parvati: And, of course, the reflection studied him back, like a baboon at the zoo. *sees Ron raise a pillow* Wait, I didn't mean that the way it came out, really!

It looked normal, but it was still stinging.

Ginny: Well, what did you expect it to do, glow in the dark?

Harry: Well, yeah, actually.

Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken.

Ginny: You-Know-Who. What else?

Dean: No, that would be a nightmare. One of his dreams would probably involve you on a beach somewhere.

Harry/Ginny: Shut up.

It had seemed so real...

All: IT WAS!!!

There had been two people he knew and one he didn't...

Parvati: You-Know-Who, Wormtail, and Frank Bryce, respectively.

He concentrated hard, frowning,

Seamus: Why is it that people always frown when they're concentrating? Why can't they smile?

Lavender: Seamus, try it some time. It doesn't work. If you're cheerful, you can't concentrate.

Hermione: Actually, it's more like people wrinkle their foreheads, trying to focus their thoughts, which generally leads to frowning.

Seamus: Oh.

trying to remember...

Seamus: If the person he knew was Hermione or not...

Harry/Hermione: *insistently* Shut up.

The dim picture of a darkened room came to him...

Ron: In a lovely, gold, gilt-edged frame with a convenient thread for hanging it on the wall.

Lavender: Wrapped in shiny red-and-gold paper.

Seamus: Ooh, shiny.

Dean: With a big red bow on top.

Seamus: Also shiny.

Parvati: By owl post, just in time for his birthday.

Seamus: Also shiny...wait...

Ginny: *clobbers Seamus with a marshmallow*

There had been a snake on a hearth rug...

Lavender: Nagini.

Ginny: He likes snakes, doesn't he?

Harry: He's a Parslemouth, Ginny.

Ginny: So are you.

Harry: Don't remind me.

a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail...

Percy: *surprised* You knew ahead of time who he was?

Harry: Yeah. Remember...he was Scabbers...it was our third year when we found that out.

Percy: *swallows hard*

and a cold, high voice...

Dean: Sounds like Mum that time Dad accidentally knocked her out the window and she fell in the snow.

Seamus: Was she in her nightgown or something?

Dean: Her negligée.

Percy: *sharply* That's sufficient from both of you.

Dean/Seamus: Yes, Professor...

Percy: Percy. Just Percy.

the voice of Lord Voldemort.

All except Harry/Hermione/Neville: *wince*

Hermione: *a bit impatiently* Oh, grow up, the lot of you.

Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought...

Hermione: That's not only cold, that's vaguely painful.

Harry: Mmm...

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible...

Ron: Harry, you really need to see someone about this short-term memory loss problem of yours.

Harry: If I wasn't holding this book, I'd hurt you badly.

Ginny: *rising* Please. Allow me. *tackles Ron backwards off his chair and commences pounding him*

Ron: Um...ow. Ow. OW! Hey, Ginny, I actually use that sometimes.

Ginny: Then fight back, you dweeb!

Ron: Fine! *tries to punch Ginny and misses by several inches*

Harry/Percy/Neville/Hermione: *hold glasses out to Ron* Here, use these.

All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it,

Ginny: *sing-song, still pounding the bejeezus out of Ron* Cry mercy!

Ron: *very pinched, pained voice* Mercy!

Ginny: *settles herself back into her chair* All right. Continue, Harry.

Ron: *stands up, hair sticking in every direction, bruises from here to eternity, limp and staggering*

Parvati: My, you look a fright.

Ron: *rubs nose* No shit. *takes his seat*

Harry: *adds another tally mark to sheet of parchment*

he had felt a spasm of horror,

Ron: *jerks suddenly*

Dean: No, no, that's a jerk. It says spasm.

Seamus: Like this? *twitches*

Dean: No, that's a twitch. It's like this. *spasms*

Seamus/Ron: Ah.

Lavender: Schematics! Schematics! You boys are such perfectionists!

Seamus: Uh, paging Mr. Pot, there's a Miss Kettle on line one...

Lavender: *socks him in the shoulder*

Seamus: Ow!

Lavender: Sissy.

which had awoken him...

Lavender: Shouldn't it be 'awakened'?

Hermione: No, I think 'awoken' is proper there. I'd have to double-check.

Harry: It is 'awoken'. You wouldn't say 'had waked him' or 'wakened him', would you? You'd say it 'had woken him'.

Hermione: Good point.

or had that been the pain in his scar?

Seamus: More than likely the pain in his scar. A spasm of horror wouldn't wake anyone up.

Harry: Well, one finds it difficult to be reasonable at three in the morning.

Seamus: Good point.

And who had the old man been?

All: Frank Bryce.

For there had definitely been an old man;

All: Yup.

Harry had watched him fall to the ground.

Parvati: Well, where else would he fall to? The ceiling?

Luna: Well, actually, he could've. If he was infested with nargles he would have.

Harry: Luna, clear something up for me, please. What exactly is a nargle?

Luna: They're little silver things that look kind of like walking fish. They get into people's bodies and then their personal gravity can be reduced. They'll fall up instead of down. Sometimes they fall straight back. That's why they nest in mistletoe, as well as other plants that hang upside down as a matter of routine.

Harry: Um...thanks, Luna.

Luna: Any time.

It was all becoming confused.

Percy: Typo! It ought to be confusing, not confused.

Hermione: Well, actually, it is confused in this sense. He's using it in the sense that all the details of his dream were becoming muddled together, not in the sense that he finds all of this confusing. 'It' refers to several components of a single entity, not one thing.

Percy: *sheepishly* Oh.

Seamus: *laughs* Ooh, Brainiac got you on that one.

Hermione: *pelts Seamus with marshmallows*

Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands;

Ginny: Ooh, what a poetic description.

Hermione: *sighs dreamily* How romantic.

Lavender: Like the misty sunrise over the mountains.

Parvati: It does sound lovely.

Luna: Like that song "She's My Kind of Rain"--you know that line, "She sits quietly there/Like the water in a jar"?

Dean: You girls are mental.

the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them....

Hermione: You should hold on to your dreams.

Lavender: Ooh, like that song "If We Hold On Together"?

Hermione: That's 'Hold on till the end', not 'to your dreams'.

Lavender: Oh.

Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed,

All: Bertha Jorkins.

though Harry

Dean: *holds up a hand* Don't tell me, let me guess...couldn't remember what this person's name was?

could not remember the name...

Parvati: *admiringly* 'Mazing, Dean!

Dean: Not really. Since he hasn't remembered very much else so far...

Parvati: Good point.

and they had been plotting to kill someone else...him!

Ron: And in other late-breaking news...

Parvati: Rain is wet.

Lavender: We're in the seventh year.

Ginny: Luna and I are in the sixth.

Dean: We've already taken our O.W.L.s.

Seamus: And Lucius Malfoy is a Death Eater...wait, didn't we do this already?

Harry took his face out of his hands,

Seamus: And put it back on his head, where it belongs.

Lavender: *punches him in the shoulder*

opened his eyes,

Ron: ...With a crowbar on account of the fact that they were stuck...

and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there.

Neville: Like what?

Harry: I dunno...a Death Eater, Voldemort, evil mutant killer stalks of broccoli...

Ginny: All broccoli is evil.

Percy: I thought you liked broccoli.

Ginny: I hate broccoli.

Percy: Oh, right, it's okra you like.

Ginny: No, I don't like green plants. I never did.

Percy: *innocently* You used to eat grass all the time.

Harry: Moving swiftly on...

As it happened, there were an extraordinary number of unusual things in this room.

Parvati: You mean like the colony of nargles living on your ceiling?

Harry: More like the broken toys on the shelves.

A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of his bed, revealing

Dean: The entire West Ham football team.

Lavender: The Beatles.

Ginny: Elvis Presley.

Dean: Don't be silly, Ginny. Elvis isn't in Harry's bedroom. He's in Las Vegas, playing Wheel of Fortune with Saddam Hussein and Jimmy Hoffa.

Luna: *seriously* No, Elvis is in Sweden running a farm of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. Daddy and I saw him.

Hermione: But how did you know it was Elvis?

Luna: He was wearing a rhinestone jumpsuit and singing "Let Me Be Your Teddy Bear".

Hermione: *to Harry* Sorry I asked.

a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spellbooks.

Seamus: Most of which were written by Elvis in the evenings by the fireside, when all the Snorkacks were sleeping.

Luna: Don't be silly, Seamus. Crumple-Horned Snorkacks are nocturnal.

Rolls of parchment littered that part of his desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open;

Hermione: *in mock horror* Gasp! It was on the floor! How could you?

Harry: I was reading it before I fell asleep. It must've fallen off my bed.

Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in the book were all moving.

Neville: *interrupting* So what exactly is so unusual about this room?

Parvati: The fact that Harry had been reading? The fact that the parchment wasn't in Hedwig's cage too? The fact that the trunk was open and there was still stuff in it?

Harry: Well, see, in the Muggle world, people don't use cauldrons, they don't fly on broomsticks, they don't wear robes--generally speaking--they don't write on parchment anymore, they don't own owls, and pictures all stay put.

Neville/Ron/Ginny/Percy/Parvati/Luna: Muggles!

Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another.

Ron: *raises both arms in victory sign* CANNONS FOREVER!

Harry walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop.

Seamus: Made all the more impressive because a) they were playing Puddlemere United, and let's face it, with Oliver Wood, they're good, and b) he's one of the Chudley Cannons.

Ron: Oy! They're ninth in the league, you know!

Seamus: They haven't been ninth in three years. Haven't you been following the league statistics? They dropped to tenth three years ago, and when Wood took over full-time Keeper for Puddlemere the Cannons dropped to twelfth.

Ron: *grumbles mutinously*

Then he snapped the book shut.

Ginny: In disgust, wondering why he even feigned interest in such a pathetic team.

Ron: OY!

Even Quidditch--in Harry's opinion, the best sport in the world--

Ron/Seamus/Neville/Parvati/Ginny/Percy: YEAH!

couldn't distract him at the moment.

Percy: *approvingly* Focused. I like that.

Hermione: Now why can't you ever be like that when you're doing your homework?

Harry: *sticks his tongue out at her*

He placed Flying with the Cannons on his bedside table, crossed to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the street below.

Seamus: Where he found every Death Eater in the Western hemisphere pointing up at his window and laughing.

Harry: *impatiently* Seamus, at the time of this book there were maybe six Death Eaters in the Western hemisphere besides the ones in Azkaban, and four of them were Lucius Malfoy.

Percy: *confused* Four of them were...?

Harry: It was a joke, told to make a point.

Percy: Ah. Rhetoric.

Harry: Rhetoric is an entirely different concept. Sarcasm would be closer to it.

Percy: *sheepishly* Oh.

Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning.

Lavender: You mean, the sun coming up down on Main Street and children shouting as they run out to play?

Hermione: *sings* Head in my hands, here I am standin' in my bare feet...Watchin' you drive away...Watchin' you drive away...

All others: *stare at her*

Hermione: Sorry. It's a song I heard once...Cold Day in July...oh, never mind.

All the curtains were closed.

Dean: To discourage Peeping Toms who might spy on the people getting dressed for work...or undressed, if they're coming off the graveyard shift.

Harry: You obviously don't live on a respectable suburban street. The curtains are closed to give a sense of conformity. It's like some kind of rule...all the neighborhood's curtains must be closed until all the occupants wake up at exactly the same time.

Ginny: What about you, though?

Harry: I'm the oddball. Why do you think the neighbors don't like me? Apart from the fact that the Dursleys have been spreading rumors that I go to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys, that is.

Ginny: Ah.

As far as Harry could see through the darkness,

Seamus: Which, unless he's got owl's eyes, was probably about three feet...

Harry: Actually, the streetlights were lit. I could see to the corner.

there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat.

Seamus: Meow!

At this point the portrait swung open. Everyone jumped and turned towards it. A tall girl with long brown hair and blue eyes stepped into the room and smiled in their direction. "Hi, Percy. I thought I'd come and see you, since I was in the area...McGonagall said you were up here and let me in. Really nice of her, if you ask me."

Percy grinned. "Hi, Simóne. Guys, this is Simóne Martáine." He introduced the Gryffindors and Luna. "We were..."

"Reading, actually," Hermione told her.

"Sounds like a nice idea," Simóne said with a smile, taking a seat next to Percy. "What are you reading?"

Between the lot of them, they explained the premise of the book once more. Simóne grinned and said it sounded like a good book.

Dean refilled everyone's mug of cocoa and passed around seconds on pumpkin pie. "Pie?" he offered Simóne.

"Please. My mother's on a health-food binge and all I came equipped with was a box of sugarless, flourless, yeastless, and probably tasteless 'Walnut Fudgie' bars." She accepted the pie and nodded to Harry. "Go ahead and continue."

And yet...and yet...

Seamus: And yet what? Yet he was sure he heard something?

Harry: Close.

Harry went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a finger over his scar again.

Dean: Oh, yeah, like that's really going to help.

Neville: Maybe he's trying to reassure himself that his forehead hasn't fallen off from the pain.

Dean: Well, there is that...

It wasn't the pain that bothered him;

All: It wasn't?

Harry was no stranger to pain and injury.

Lavender: Now that's the understatement of the century.

Simóne/Ron/Dean: No, it isn't.

He had lost all the bones from his right arm once

Simóne: You did?

Neville: Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten about that...he was attacked by a rogue Bludger, it broke his arm, and Lockhart said he could mend it, then somehow removed all the bones.

Ron: *shakes his head* The extraordinary upshot of all this was that Hermione defended Lockhart!

Hermione: Oh, yeah...I pointed out that anyone could make a mistake, and his arm didn't hurt anymore.

Harry: Yeah, but it didn't do anything else either.

Simóne: *snickers à la Ernie from Sesame Street*

and had them painfully regrown in a night.

Simóne: *sympathetically* Skele-Gro. My cousin Katya had to take that once...she said it was awful.

Harry: It is. Trust me.

The same arm had been pierced by a venemous foot-long fang not long afterward.

Simóne/Luna: What?

Harry: Basilisk. In the Chamber of Secrets. It bit me by mistake.

Simóne: A basilisk bit you? How'd you get out of that?

Harry: Fawkes. Phoenix tears have healing powers.

Simóne: Ah.

Only last year Harry had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick.

Dean: You know, it's very hard to fall more than, say, an inch off a broomstick that isn't airborne.

Harry: I'm talented.

He was used to bizarre accidents

Percy: Like crashing a powder-blue flying Ford Anglia into the Whomping Willow, you mean?

Ron: Oh, shut up about the car!

Ginny: *sniggers*

and injuries;

Seamus: Like breaking a bone no one's ever heard of?

Harry: A little more bizarre than that.

they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Parvati: But I've never had any bizarre accidents or injuries.

and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble.

Parvati: Oh.

No, the thing that was bothering Harry was

Ron: Seamus?

Seamus: *lunges for Ron*

that the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by....

Seamus: *lets Ron up, sits back down*

Ron: *now has lovely new collection of bruises* But...but You-Know-Who wasn't there, was he?

Harry: Emotions, remember?

Ron: Oh, yeah...

But Voldemort couldn't be here, now....

Ron: That's what I said!

Harry: I know.

The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible....

Simóne: And well it might be. But seventeen years ago if anyone had said that it would be possible for you to survive an attack by Voldemort, I'd have told them to get their head examined. Assuming that, at three years of age, I could form coherent enough sentences to tell them that...

Harry: That's true.

Harry listened closely to the silence around him. Was he half expecting to hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak?

Neville: He's asking himself? Self-doubt is very bad, you know...

And then he jumped slightly as he heard his cousin Dudley give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room.

Seamus: He's a pig!

Ron: Actually, he is.

Harry: Not anymore. Now he's more like a killer whale.

Ron/Seamus: Ah.

Harry shook himself mentally; he was being stupid.

Seamus: How unusual.

Ginny: *pelts Seamus with marshmallows*

There was no one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, and they were plainly

Seamus: Fat.

Dean: Ugly.

Ron: Stupid.

Percy: Sleeping.

Dean: Nah, too boring.

still asleep,

Percy: *looks smug*

their dreams untroubled and painless.

Seamus: I can fix that!

Dean: Harry has enough to worry about without you prowling around his house.

Seamus: *sticks his tongue out at Dean*

Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best;

Seamus: Ew!

Ron/Dean/Neville/Ginny/Percy/Simóne: *ponder this for a moment* EURGH! *tackle Seamus*

Simóne: Feed him a Walnut Fudgie bar!

Seamus: No, no, anything but that!

Girls: *giggle uncontrollably*

it wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake.

Ron: They aren't any help to anyone, awake or not.

Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harry's only living relatives.

Simóne: That has got to suck.

Harry: Big time.

They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as

Dean: Mice.

Seamus: Rats.

Neville: Mud.

Ron: Shards of broken glass.

Lavender: Seamus.

Seamus: *punches her in the shoulder*

dry rot.

All: Euck!

They had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.

Simóne: *curiously* Where's that?

Harry: Nowhere. It's an entirely fictional center, as far as I know. They just needed to make something up.

They knew perfectly well

Seamus: Riiiight...

that, as an underage wizard, Harry

Percy: Was prone to causing things to blow up for no particular reason.

Harry: No, trust me, I have a reason for blowing things up...

Simóne: Name one.

Harry: Aunt Marge had spent a week detailing exactly why my parents were failures and screw-ups and enumerating on all my faults.

Simóne: I'll buy that.

wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts,

Hermione: ...Unless it's a lifesaving exercise, of course...

but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house.

Dean: So it's your fault that Dudley is fat and stupid?

Harry: But they can't see that he's fat or stupid. He's big-boned and misunderstood.

Dean: Oh.

Harry had never been able to confide in them

Harry: Not that I'd really want to anyway.

or tell them anything about his life in the wizarding world.

Percy: Can you now?

Harry: Can, nothing. I had to tell them about Voldemort last year, when I nearly got expelled.

Percy: *wincing* Oh, yeah.

The very idea of going to them when they awoke,

Lavender: ...In all their furious, ugly, stupid fatness...

and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about Voldemort, was

Dean: Enough to get him locked away in a glass box.

Seamus: With lots of teddy bears.

Parvati: And foam blocks.

Ginny: And rubber duckies.

Harry: Rubber duckies?

Hermione: If that's the only thing that's bothering you...

Harry: I'm just wondering where it came from is all.

Neville: Over there! *points in random direction*

Harry: *to Hermione* I quit.

laughable.

Neville: *throws back his head and laughs maniacally*

Hermione: Finished?

Neville: *pauses* No. *throws back his head and gives one final 'Ha!'* Okay, now I'm done.

Ron: *humming 'Twilight Zone' theme song* Doo-dee doo-doo, doo-dee doo-doo...

Harry: It's déjà vu all over again!

Ron: Didn't I say that before?

Harry: Does it really matter?

Ron: ...No.

And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursleys in the first place.

Harry: *sarcastically* And I'm just so amazingly grateful.

If it hadn't been for Voldemort,

Neville: My parents wouldn't be in St. Mungo's.

Simóne: My sister would still be alive.

Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead.

Ron: And a lot of people gawking at him every time he goes out in public.

Harry: *muttering* Amen to that.

If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have his parents...

Neville: So would I.

Simóne: And I'd have my sister, but we already covered this.

Neville: Oh, yeah...

Harry had been a year old the night that Voldemort--the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years--

Harry: Blah blah blah...more about Voldemort...let's skip this paragraph, shall we? We know all of this...

Hermione: Go for it.

Percy: *holds up his hand* Wait. Harry, you sound like your throat's getting sore...want me to take over?

Harry: *passing Percy the book* If you don't mind.

Percy: *scans page* Where are we?

Harry: Third paragraph, page twenty.

Seamus: We're only on page twenty?

Percy: Okay, I've got it...let's go.

It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard;

Simóne: The Dursleys didn't tell you? That has got to suck.

Harry: No, you think?

it had been even more disconcerting

Seamus: What does that mean?

Hermione: Disturbing, unnerving, uncomfortable...

Seamus: Oh.

to find out that everyone in the hidden wizarding world knew his name.

Ginny: Bummer of a birthday present...

Harry had arrived at Hogwarts

Dean: In a flying car.

Harry: That was the second year, Dean.

Dean: Oh, right. You took the train like a normal person our first year.

Ron: Whatever 'normal' is anyway.

to find that heads turned

Parvati: I thought it was girls that were supposed to turn heads.

Simóne: Nice one.

Parvati: I'm serious.

and whispers followed him wherever he went.

Seamus: Tell them to stop stalking you.

But he was used to it now:

Lavender: Riiight. You just keep telling yourself that, Harry...

At the end of this summer, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts,

Harry: Through the grace of God...

Ron: And a whole lotta luck.

Harry: That too.

and Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again.

Percy: Isn't there a Muggle song that goes 'Counting the Days'?

Hermione: No.

Percy: Oh.

Simóne: There's one that goes *sings* Countin' flowers on the wall, that don't bother me at all...

But there was still a fortnight to go before he went back to school.

Simóne: *still singing* Playin' Solitaire till dawn with a deck of fifty-one...

Percy: Simmie, what the hell are you singing?

Simóne: *STILL singing* Smokin' cigarettes and a-watchin' Captain Kangaroo...Now don't tell me I've nothin' to do...

Hermione: It's a song called 'Countin' Flowers on the Wall'. Eric Heatherly sings it, as well as the Everly brothers.

Percy: Oh.

He looked hopelessly around his room again,

Hermione: Don't give up, Harry...

Ron: Yeah, fight till you drop!

Neville: *sings* We've read the book and you come out on top!

Harry: Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat?

Neville: Yep.

and his eye paused on the birthday cards his two best friends had sent him at the end of July.

Ginny: No, really? What with his birthday being on July thirty-first and all, I would've thought they'd have sent the birthday cards at the end of March!

Percy: Ginny, nobody likes a smartass.

Harry: Sure we do!

Percy: *sighs*

What would they say if Harry wrote to them and told them about his scar hurting?

Seamus: Get a grip.

Lavender: No, that's what you'd say.

Seamus: True.

At once, Hermione Granger's voice seemed to fill his head,

Seamus: Of course he thinks of Hermione first.

Harry: *flushes slightly*

shrill and panicky.

Luna: I like pancakes.

Percy: That's great, Luna, but I said panicky, not pancake.

Luna: Can't pancakes be panicky?

Ron: Only at your house, Luna.

"Your scar hurt?

Dean: Duh...

Harry, that's really serious....Write to Professor Dumbledore!

Seamus: I can just see that letter, can't you? 'Dear Professor Dumbledore, Hermione thinks I should write to you because I had a headache this morning. Do you think it's something sinister and serious? Sincerely, Harry.'

Harry: Well, that wasn't exactly how I put it, but...

And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions....Maybe there's something in there about curse scars...."

Seamus: And maybe plaid monkeys will fly out of my ass and do the chicken dance.

Luna: *looking a little surprised* Is that possible?

Seamus: No, of course not. I'm just being an idiot.

Luna: Oh. I thought there was something important and new going on.

Ginny: *gasps* She made a joke!

Yes, that would be Hermione's advice:

Ron: *confused* Pick on Seamus?

Seamus: Oy!

Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book.

Percy: Sounds perfectly sensible to me.

Harry stared out of the window at the inky blue-black sky.

Seamus: Wishing a firey chariot would come out of it and take him away like a modern-day Elijah.

Ginny: Or a powder-blue Ford Anglia...

Dean: *brightly* Or Doc's Delorean!...Oh, wait, wrong movie.

He doubted very much whether a book could help him now.

Hermione: The day you get so deep into something that a book can't get you out of it...

Ron: ...is the day you enter a lifelong career in Divination.

Hermione: True...

As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's;

Simóne: He's the only person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's, living or dead.

Harry: I rest my case.

it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions.

Draco: Well, at least his common sense hasn't deserted him...

Harry: Yeah, but it's hanging on by the skin of its teeth.

Luna: *curiously* Do teeth even have skin?

Hermione: Of course they do. It's a very fine skin, right near your gums, that provides a sort of seal...to be 'hanging on by the skin of your teeth' is the same as 'hanging on by a thread'.

Luna: Oh. Learn something new every day, I guess.

As for informing the headmaster,

Ron: Dumbledore has enough to worry about?

Harry: Nah, that was my excuse for not telling him stuff last year. I hadn't screwed up quite so much the summer this book takes place during.

Hermione: *sharply* Harry, if you do not stop beating up on yourself I swear I will dump this hot chocolate down your pants.

Dean: *covers threatened portion of his anatomy* Ouch.

Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays.

Percy: What summer holidays? He's a teacher. Teachers don't get vacations...at least, not very often. He was still at Hogwarts, mostly.

Harry: Well, I didn't know that at the time.

He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full-length wizard's robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long, crooked nose.

Simóne: I thought I saw a man of that description a couple years ago on the beaches of Normandy...blue eyes? Has a pet phoenix?

Harry: *looks a little smugly at Percy* Yup.

Simóne: Huh. I didn't recognize him...at the time, I was just glad he wasn't like so many of the other old men on the beaches, who insisted on wearing Speedo bikinis...

Percy: Moving on...

Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him;

Hermione: You're probably right.

Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address.

Neville: *reciting* Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail, will stop delivery of the Owl Post Mail.

Lavender: I thought that was the US mail.

Neville: Works both ways...hey, the Muggles in the United States get their mail delivered every day, no matter what?

Lavender: Except on Sundays.

Neville: Wow. Wonder how many of their postal carriers are witches and wizards in secret?

Hermione: Three.

Neville: You're not serious?

Hermione: No, I'm Hermione.

Harry: *cuffs her lightly on the shoulder*

Hermione: *laughs* Seriously, though, I wasn't lying. There are exactly three magical postal carriers.

Neville: Impressive.

But what would he write?

Seamus: I told you. 'Dear Professor Dumbledore, Hermione thinks I should write to you because I had a headache this morning. Do you think it's something sinister and serious? Sincerely, Harry.'

Dear Professor Dumbledore,

Seamus: So far, so good.

Sorry to bother you,

Dean: No he isn't.

but my scar hurt this morning.

Seamus: Go on...

Yours sincerely, Harry Potter.

Seamus: No, no, no, no, no! You're supposed to ask for advice, not just explain the situation!

Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

Ron: ...........No comment.

Harry: *throws a marshmallow at him*

And so he tried to imagine his other best friend, Ron Weasley's, reaction,

Parvati: Notice word choice. Hermione's voice filled his head at once, but he had to try to imagine Ron's reaction...

Harry: Well...Ron doesn't dispense advice often.

Ron: If I needed advice, I'd think of Hermione first too.

and in a moment,

Ginny: He gave up in disgust.

Ron: Oy!

Ron's red hair and long-nosed, freckled face

Ron: *feels his nose self-consciously* My nose isn't--oh, yeah, I guess it is. Never mind.

Ginny: *snorts*

seemed to swim before Harry, wearing a bemused expression.

Ginny: Because Ron can't swim.

Ron: *throws a pillow at Ginny*

"Your scar hurt? But...but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he?

Luna: *practically* Why not?

He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he?

Lavender: Maybe he's trying to scare you to death.

Harry: It's almost working.

I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit...I'll ask Dad...."

Percy: Dad knows next to nothing about curses or curse scars. His expertise is with Muggle artifacts.

Harry: Which is about what I expected.

Mr. Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic,

Ginny: And loves every minute of it, although I think Mum wants him to transfer to another office where he's not interacting so much with the Muggle things that so tempt him...

Ron: Isn't that the truth?

but he didn't have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as Harry knew.

Dean: He doesn't. Ron was just grasping at straws.

Ginny: *sarcastically* Which is so incredibly unusual.

In any case, Harry didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain.

Ron: *a little hurt* Why not?

Harry: It's nothing against you, it's just that...well...

Hermione: Ron, in case you hadn't figured it out by now, Harry has what are commonly known as Stoic tendencies. He doesn't like admitting when he's in pain or when he's been hurt...he'd much rather put up false pretenses to the world that everything is fine and that he isn't hurt in any way, shape or form.

Simóne: *very quietly* If you don't let the world see how much it hurts you, after a while it stops trying and leaves you alone. If you don't let it see how much you care about someone or something, it won't take that person or thing away from you. If you push your loved ones away, the world won't set out to punish you for your sins by hurting them. It isn't Stoicism, Hermione. It's a basic defense mechanism. It's the only way to protect yourself, your friends, your family, everything you care about.

Harry: *nodding* And if you don't make the world think you're made of glass, it won't treat you like you're made of glass, and over time you'll grow stronger, more hard-wearing. The world won't need to treat you like you'll shatter easily because you won't.

Seamus: This conversation is getting a little too deep for me. Can you keep going, Percy?

Percy: *visibly shaken* Sure thing.

Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione,

Hermione: *pretending to be hurt* What's that supposed to mean?

Ron: That Mum would go into Mother Hen Mode and start clucking and worrying up a storm.

Ginny: Now that's a good analogy, Ron.

and Fred and George, Ron's sixteen-year-old twin brothers, might think Harry was losing his nerve.

Percy: They wouldn't, Harry. They'd understand.

Harry: *tries to grin* Hence the use of the word 'might'.

The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world;

Percy/Ginny/Ron: *blush*

he was hoping that they might invite him to stay any time now

Ron: Of course! Why on Earth would we leave you with the Dursleys all summer? 'Sides, it's the World Cup!

(Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World Cup),

Parvati: And so, interestingly enough, did You-Know-Who...

Harry: But not at the end of last school year.

Parvati: Well, there is that.

and he somehow didn't want his visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar.

Lavender: Don't blame you in the slightest.

Ron: Although I want to know why you consider it a visit. Mum always calls it a homecoming...

Harry: *manages a smile* That's nice of her, and I really do like staying with you, but...well, Hogwarts always seemed more like home to me than anywhere else, the Burrows included.

Ron: I totally understand.

Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles.

Seamus: Then put it back into a bowl, covered it with a cloth, and left it in a warm place to rise to double in bulk.

What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself)

Percy: Why?

Harry: Because...well...it's selfish to want anything, really...

Hermione: Harry. Get. A. Grip. You are allowed to want things just like everyone else. It isn't like you're going around selfishly demanding them all the time...and if you dare say "Anymore" like I can see that you're about to, I will not hesitate to duct tape your mouth shut.

Dean: Uh-oh, Hermione's on the warpath.

Hermione: *leveling a finger* Don't even get me started on you.

Dean: *cowers*

was someone like--someone like a parent:

Simóne: There's nothing shameful or selfish about desiring a parent.

an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had experience with Dark Magic...

Ginny: What about Lupin? It's obvious you two mean a lot to each other...

Harry: *wincing slightly* Well, was it back then?

Ginny/Hermione/Ron/Percy: Yes.

Harry: ...Oh.

And then the solution came to him.

Lavender: In an Easter bonnet.

Dean: With all the frills upon it?

Seamus: *sings* You'll be the only snowman in the Easter Parade!

It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't believe it had taken so long--Sirius.

Harry: *chokes slightly*

Ginny: Oh, Harry...*puts her arm around his shoulder*

Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk;

Seamus: *concern accidentally slipping into his tones* Harry? Are you going to be okay?

Harry: Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine...*wipes his eyes hurriedly with the back of his hand*

he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius,

Seamus: ...And promptly died of boredom.

Luna: Which is still a major disease in many countries. Along with shame, embarrassment, and cholesterol poisoning.

Ginny: *uncertainly* Was that intended to be a joke?

Luna: Actually, yes.

Seamus: Two in as many pages! It's a miracle!

then paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadn't thought of Sirius straight away.

Parvati: Well, since he seems to follow a rather crooked path, it's hard to think of him straight away...

Seamus: Or...

Dean: Say it and I'll staple your tongue to the ceiling.

Seamus: *in mock dejection* Okay.

But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising--after all, he had only found out that Sirius was his godfather two months ago.

Ron: Liar. If this is supposed to be August--

Ginny: Which it is--

Ron: --then you found out eight or nine months ago.

Harry: But I only found out that he wasn't a mass murderer two months ago.

Ron: True...

Percy: I'll probably regret asking this, but...how did you find out?

Harry: *hesitantly* Um...I heard a couple of the teachers talking with Fudge and Madame Rosemerta in the Three Broomsticks...

Percy: *counting on his fingers* That would've been December of your third year, my seventh...how the heck did you get into Hogsmeade? I thought no one signed your permission slip.

Harry: Ask Fred and George.

Percy: I take it back. I don't want to know...anything involving those two is bound to be something I don't want to know about.

There was a simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry's life until then--

Simóne: He'd been in Azkaban?

Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called dementors,

Parvati: Which you don't want to meet down an alley at night.

Harry: *shuddering* Especially not if you're fifteen, underage, outside of school, and with your Muggle cousin.

Simóne: I take it this is from personal experience?

Harry: Oh, yes.

Simóne: Say no more.

sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when

Seamus: He was Harry's age.

Ron: If the dementors showed up for fourteen-year-old pranksters at Hogwarts, Fred and George would be as dead as...a very dead thing.

he had escaped.

Simóne: I always wondered how he did that...

Harry: Erm...

Simóne: I know how he did it now, Harry...I did read the articles after all...

Yet Sirius had been innocent--

Hermione: *snorts*

Harry: *a little warningly* Don't even, Hermione.

Hermione: Sorry.

the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemort's supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead.

Percy: It was actually kind of impressive, how he pulled that off.

Neville: *sighs* I really need to read the papers more. I have to be the only person who didn't know he was still alive...

Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their story.

Dean: And let's face it, who's going to believe him? ...No offence meant, of course.

Harry: None taken. We know what you mean.

For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursleys at last,

Simóne: *wincing slightly* I can guess how this is going to turn out.

because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared.

Ginny: *hugs Harry*

But the chance had been snatched away from him--Wormtail had escaped before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life.

Neville: Not only his life, but Harry's as well, I suspect.

Simóne: Good point...

Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff called Buckbeak,

Seamus: Ah-ha! So that's what happened to the stupid buzzard!

Ron: *tackles Seamus*

and since then, Sirius had been on the run.

Percy: He was on the run before that. It's just that at this point he was running in another direction.

Harry: True...

Ginny: Ow! Ron, you idiot, what did you hit me for?

The home Harry might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer.

Percy: Ron! Seamus! Stop fighting and sit down now!

Ron/Seamus: Sorry, Percy. *pick themselves up and sit back down*

Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him.

Hermione: Ambiguous pronoun reference...

Harry: It's a book, Hermione, not a grammar lesson.

It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him.

Simóne: Oh, really now? What did he do, put them there?

Harry: In a way, yes...

The Dursleys had never allowed this before;

Neville: They didn't want him to do his homework because they found it amusing when Snape yelled at him.

Harry: Close.

Neville: Really? I was joking.

their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to

Seamus: Drinking.

Parvati: The nearest lake.

Dean: Spain.

Lavender: Majorca.

Simóne: The streets of town, right to the traffic cop.

lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this.

Parvati: Oy! Child abuse!

Harry: Nah, they aren't hitting me.

Parvati: Well, child endangerment then. Snape'll kill you if you don't have your homework.

But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather--

Luna: But I thought he didn't do it!

for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent.

Luna: Oh.

Percy: *severely* I don't approve of that kind of unscrupulous behavior...*suddenly smiles* unless it works and nobody notices it, of course.

Ron: Go, Percy!

Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive.

Ginny: Sirius was at Privet Drive?

Harry: No, I was at Privet Drive.

Hermione: *smugly* Ambiguous pronoun reference.

Ginny: Hermione, I was joking around. If Sirius was on Privet Drive, the Ministry would have something to say about it.

Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by

Draco: Hippogriffs.

Seamus: Bats.

Ron: Migrating coconuts.

Lavender: Balloons.

large, brightly colored tropical birds.

Simóne: Imagine that. A flamingo or a macaw delivering letters.

Hedwig had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again.

Simóne: *wisely* She was jealous. She was afraid you'd want to keep them and send her away instead.

Harry: I'd never do that.

Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand,

Dean: Tropical birds don't live where there are palm trees and white sand. They live in the rain forest.

Ginny: Shh!

and he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself.

Seamus: Oh, sure. Lots of people enjoy themselves when they're on the run from dementors.

Somehow, Harry found it hard to imagine dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight; perhaps that was why Sirius had gone south.

Ron: You think?!

Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboard under Harry's bed, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded Harry to call on him if Harry ever needed to. Well, he needed to now, all right...

Ron: You can say that again.

Well, he needed to now, all right...

Ron: Uh, I didn't mean that literally, Perce.

Percy: *smirks*

Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room.

Ron: It wasn't wanted?

Harry: More like trying to stay away.

Hermione: Like Hester and the sunlight?

Harry: Kind of, yeah.

Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned to gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room,

Seamus/Dean/Ron/Ginny: *burst out laughing*

Hermione: Euck!

Harry: Minds out of the gutters, please.

Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his finished letter.

Seamus: *as Harry* Dear Sirius, my life sucks. By the way, my scar hurts and You-Know-Who was talking about me behind my back again. What now? Love Harry."

Dear Sirius,

Seamus: Yes, yes, go on...

Thanks for your last letter.

Dean: Not the one before that, though.

That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window.

Simóne: An albatross?

Hermione: A golden eagle, maybe?

Harry: Um...I don't really know.

Things are the same as usual around here.

Ginny: Translation--Get me the hell out of here!

Percy: Ginny!

Ginny: Sorry, Perce.

Dudley's diet isn't going too well.

Ron: ...Which is kind of like saying that my hair isn't terribly brown.

My aunt found him smuggling

Seamus: Cigarettes.

Lavender: Guns.

Dean: Drugs.

doughnuts

All: Huh?

Simóne: When did doughnuts become illegal?

into his room yesterday.

All: Oh...

They told him

Hermione: They? They who?

Harry: "They" the higher-ups.

Hermione: Your aunt and uncle?

Harry: Yup.

Hermione: Ah.

they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it,

Seamus: *as Dudley* Noooo! Take my arm, take my leg, but for the love of God, spare my pocket money!!!

Ginny: *snorts*

so he got really angry

Dean: Duh. This is Harry's cousin we're talking about...

and chucked his PlayStation out of the window.

Parvati: *confused* What in the name of God's green earth is a 'PlayStation'?

That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on.

Parvati: Oh.

Hermione: Those are really expensive, aren't they? Chucking it out the window can't have been good for it.

Bit stupid really,

Ron: ...As opposed to most of the other things Dudley does, which are quite stupid really.

now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things.

Hermione: Part three? You have got to be kidding me.

Harry: Unfortunately not.

Hermione: *shakes her head* That really doesn't sound like a game that should have survived the first time around.

I'm okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to.

Ron: And knowing Sirius, he would.

Parvati: But that's illegal, isn't it?

Ron: I doubt that would have stopped him.

A weird thing happened this morning, though.

Seamus: You had a bizarre dream about You-Know-Who and it gave you a headache?

My scar hurt again.

Dean: Because of the dream. Go on, tell him!

Lavender: You are going to tell him about the dream, right?

Harry: Er...

Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts.

All except Harry/Hermione/Neville: *wince*

Simóne: You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?

Harry: Yeah...our first year...he had possessed our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I didn't realize what was happening until it was almost too late.

Simóne: Oh.

But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he?

Hermione: Unfortunately, he can.

Harry: Mmm...

Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterwards?

Percy: Harry, not many people actually have curse scars. In fact, I think you're the only one recorded who does.

Harry: One, I didn't know that at the time. And two, I was sort of hoping there wasn't something sinister in the works.

Percy: Sorry, I didn't know.

Harry: It's okay.

I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she's off hunting at the moment.

Luna: Hunting what?

Seamus: Bats, mice, nargles, late-flying ducks...

Hermione: Seamus, you have an unhealthy obsession with ducks.

Say hello to Buckbeak for me.

Harry

Lavender: Wait a minute. You skipped something.

Harry/Percy: No I didn't.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right.

Lavender: But it doesn't! You forgot to mention the dream!

Hermione: She's right. Harry...

Harry: *holds up a hand* Don't say it, Hermione. Keep going, Percy...

There was no point putting in the dream;

Hermione: *insistently* Yes, there was.

he didn't want it to look as though he was too worried.

Ron: As I recall, it didn't help...

Harry: *sighs* True, unfortunately.

He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned.

Seamus: Three days later, when there was no hope for him...

Ginny: Shaddup.

Then he got to his feet, stretched,

Dean: And pulled six muscles and three vertebrae.

Ginny: Nah. Nine muscles. You can't pull vertebrae.

Dean: *injured* Why not?

Ginny: They're bones.

Dean: Oh.

and opened his wardrobe once more.

Seamus: This time it was a flock of geese.

Hermione: It's called a gaggle, Seamus.

Seamus: Well, sor-ree.

Without glancing at his reflection, he started to get dressed

Parvati: But never actually finished.

Hermione: *whacks Parvati with a pillow*

before going down to breakfast.

Seamus: Generally a good idea...people frown if you run around naked.

Simóne: Well, go on, don't stop now!

Percy: That's it. The chapter's over.