Another Prisoner, Another Professor

Hufflepuff lost their Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor continued to have a chance at the Cup. "I still think Diggory was trying to make us lose," said Ron at breakfast a few days afterward; Harry had shown Cedric Diggory's letter to him and Hermione. "People think he's so fair all the time, but - "

"If Cedric Diggory sent Harry that note because he wanted to make Gryffindor lose, Ron," Hermione said, reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice, "then he went about it in the stupidest way he could." Ron gave her a pointed look. "Oh honestly, I know Fred and George think he's an idiot, but he's a prefect, he has to be at least somewhat intelligent."

"That's debatable," said Ron, gazing down the table at Percy, who had just poured coffee without looking up from his book and spilled half the pot.

"How would following the advice in that letter make Gryffindor lose the Quidditch Cup? Diggory said Harry ought to get a Firebolt or another Nimbus Two Thousand. You said yourself he should get a Firebolt and we know there's nothing wrong with the Nimbus."

"There's probably something really good about the Nimbus Two Thousand and One that he didn't want us to have," Ron said ominously. "A special feature or something that we don't know about because the Slytherin team are too stupid to have figured it out."

"And Diggory has, because he's so clever?"

"I never said he was as stupid as the Slytherins," Ron said. "No one's as stupid as the Slytherins. Goyle would probably try to put food in his bum instead of his mouth if he weren't wearing pants."

"We're all trying to eat, you know," said Ginny, who was sitting two seats away from Hermione. Ron ignored her.

"There's nothing better than a Firebolt," said Harry. He had no idea why Ron was so dead set against Diggory, but they had been hearing about it for over a week and Harry was getting tired of it. Still, he hadn't decided which was worse, listening to Ron or listening to Hermione, who kept insisting that Harry should sent Diggory a thank-you note. "Why would he tell me to get the best there is?"

"It could be what's-it-called," Ron said. "Reverse psychology." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, how's this, Hermione, I'll consider the possibility that Diggory was acting out of the goodness of his pure, moronic heart when you consider the possibility that Black is the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've had and not some Death Eater friend of Lupin's, or whatever you think he is this week."

"I have considered that possibility," said Hermione calmly. "I think you were right about him."

Ron stared, amazed. Hermione shrugged and started putting extra pieces of bacon into her bag.

"All right," Ron said. "You're probably right about Diggory, he's probably too brain-dead to know how to trick anyone. What's that bacon for?"

"Crookshanks," said Hermione.

"Now there's reverse psychology," said Fred, who had overheard them. "Make Ron think you just want to feed your cat, when you're really plotting to give it to Scabbers and kill him by clogging his little arteries."

"That's not reverse psychology," said Hermione, reddening. "And I don't want to kill Scabbers anyway."

"Of course it's not for Scabbers, you prat," George said to Fred. "It's for her boyfriend, what's-his-name - Astrophil."

"You've got a boyfriend, Hermione?" Lavender said, and dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"No I don't," said Hermione, looking irritated. "I just found this love letter and they keep trying to be funny by saying it was for me."

"Well, if it wasn't for you, then why did you find it?" said Lavender.

"Because Crookshanks picked it up somewhere, that's why!"

"I never heard of a cat picking up a love letter before."

"Well, he did, and I can't help it," Hermione said, getting up from the table and giving Lavender one last angry look before she marched out of the Great Hall.

Lavender told Parvati and was overheard by Seamus and Dean, who started laughing and then had to explain to the fourth-year girls at the table what was so funny. By the next day, most of the Gryffindor Tower had heard about Astrophil's letter and couldn't help exchanging furtive snickers whenever Hermione walked by.

"I wish you two would just keep your big mouths shut!" she shouted tearfully at Fred and George when they came across them in the corridor. Two first-year girls passed by, glancing once at Hermione before they ran off giggling. "No, I know, I wish some pet of yours had picked it up so everyone would be laughing at you!"

"Don't be stupid, Hermione, we haven't got pets," Fred said. "Mum thinks we'd blow them up or something. Besides, no one would think it was for one of us, it was written by a bloke."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," Ron said as Fred and George walked away. "In a few days someone will have got caught kissing in an empty classroom or something and then everyone will take the mickey out of them instead."

The only upside to the whole situation was that such was the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin that the Gryffindors managed to stop laughing when the Slytherins were around, so as not to give them a reason to make fun of another Gryffindor. Therefore, Malfoy didn't hear about Hermione's supposed boyfriend, much to Harry's relief. He was used to Malfoy mocking him, but he knew that Hermione was so upset that if Malfoy found out it would be the last straw.

Things were not looking well for Malfoy. Not only was Hagrid still teaching and with Buckbeak still on the grounds, but Professor Black had started putting Malfoy in detention at least once every few days. "It's only because Black hates Draco's side of the family," Pansy Parkinson told anyone who would listen, but Harry doubted this. Since the moment Malfoy had found out that his relation to Black wasn't going to get him any special treatment, he'd been rude to Black at every opportunity. Frankly, Harry thought it showed a lot of restraint on Black's part that he hadn't put Malfoy in detention every day from the start of school.

On the first Friday in December, Harry went to Black's office at eight o'clock for his lesson, his arms and back tired from the hours of Quidditch practice he'd just finished. In the two weeks off Wood had devised an extensive game strategy and was making the team practice even out in the freezing rain; in fact, he seemed rather happy about the rain, saying it would keep away any spies from Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Fred and George had started a betting pool on how long it would take after Wood finished school for him to be declared insane and sent to St. Mungo's.

Harry was about to knock on the office door, but the second before his fist hit the wood a drawling voice said, "He's answering a letter, Potter. I'd usually let you bruise your hand as much as you wanted, but the sooner he's finished the sooner I can be done with detention and get away from this lunacy."

"I'm surprised you didn't write to your father and get him to make Black stop giving you detention," Harry said, turning to look at Malfoy, who was standing in a shadow just past the door. "Or did you, and you found out that now that he's been sacked as a school governor he hasn't got quite as much power as you thought?"

"He has more power than you think, Potter," Malfoy retorted, narrowing his eyes. "But I don't blame you for not recognizing it. It's not as though you're used to power, after all, hanging around with scum like the Weasleys."

"Oh, the Weasleys aren't powerless," Harry said. "Had the secret chamber under the drawing-room floor cleared out by the Ministry yet?"

Malfoy turned even paler than usual; he had told Harry and Ron about the secret chamber last year when they were Polyjuiced into Crabbe and Goyle, and Ron had said later that he would tell Mr. Weasley about it. Suddenly Harry realized the stupidity of what he had just done. If for some reason the Ministry hadn't been to the Malfoys', Malfoy would be sure to write to his father immediately and warn him.

To Harry's immense relief, Malfoy said, "You can't credit that to the Weasleys. Besides, we got off with a warning - just a nod to procedure. The Ministry know to leave my family alone."

"Really," said Harry. "Did you know your cousin Nymphadora's in Auror training?"

"She isn't my cousin," Malfoy snapped.

"Isn't she? See, I always thought that when your mum's sister had a kid, that meant you were cousins - thanks for telling me, though, Malfoy. Now it turns out my cousin Dudley isn't my cousin after all. Been wanting to get rid of him for years. How do you think your dad will like going to Azkaban? Maybe they'll give him Lupin's old cell."

"You - " Malfoy began, but at that moment Black opened the door.

"I'm rescheduling your detention for Monday night," he said to Malfoy. "Don't tell me you have Quidditch practice, I already checked. You can go."

The minute Malfoy's footsteps died away, Black said, "I completely understand the temptation, but please don't ever bring Nymphadora into it again. She doesn't need any more difficulty in her life."

"Oh," Harry said. His own voice sounded very odd to him. "I'm sorry."

For some reason, he felt terrible. He knew Black was fond of Nymphadora and now he felt as though he'd hurt her in some way, and he didn't want to hurt her. He didn't want Black to be disappointed with him. He felt as though there was suddenly something dividing them into sides, he on one side and Black and Nymphadora on the other. He couldn't explain it, but at that moment he felt worse about Nymphadora than he'd ever felt about anything in his life.

"It's all right," said Black in a soft, gentle voice that almost made it worse.

After a second he said, "You know what, you're worn out from Quidditch practice and I'm worn out from keeping Malfoy in detention. Let's just relax for tonight - we can talk about Patronuses if you really want to get some work done. Come on, I made hot chocolate."

"You're allergic," said Harry.

"I know," Black said. "It's for you. Come on."