Book of Memories

Chapter 15: DUMBLEDORE'S MISTAKE

Over the next several weeks, Harry's aura of doom and gloom had not lifted. Cho had not made an appearance at all. Ginny was taking this very happily and she began to act more friendly towards Harry. Of course, he didn't care at all and would rather Ginny walk out like Cho did. Hermione was furious with the pair of them but Ron was totally indifferent.

After forming the final conclusion in his head, at the start of December, Harry told Dumbledore after one Paladism class about what he wanted to do with Sirius.

"If that... is what you want, it's entirely up to you," said Dumbledore very hesitantly.

"I do..." Harry said with a little more confidence, and then, deciding to do the thing right, he added, "and... the sooner the better."

"You're sure, now?" Dumbledore asked, pointing his long, crooked nose at Harry.

"Yes."

"A funeral?" Dumbledore said, making sure that he had heard Harry correctly.

"Yes," Harry repeated.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, turning away and sitting down in his chair. The sparkle behind his half-moon spectacles died out completely. "Perhaps we can get him into a very special cemetery in the United States. There's an entire wizarding city called Mystic in the state of Connecticut containing a popular burial ground recognized world-wide. Nicolas Flamel rests there."

Dumbledore did not look remotely pleased, however, at Harry's request.

"Run along now," he said. "I will see to preparations."

Hermione insisted Harry was "nuts" for telling Dumbledore but Harry insisted there was "nothing that was going to help him. He's dead. I'm saying it. Why won't you?"

One Friday night, Harry decided to let Cappy out of the cage Hermione built from wooden sticks. Sitting in the empty Gryffindor common room once more, if nothing else helped lift his spirits, the disgusting tongue of a puffskein pulling boogies out of his nose had to do something.

"You actually like that?" Hermione asked him.

"No not really but nothing else seems to be working," said Harry.

"So you really want to bury Sirius?"

"You make it sound like it's a big decision..."

"Well it is!" Hermione shrieked.

"No it's not," said Harry flatly. "He's been lying there for months and months. The only thing that did anything was the potion and it totally backfired on us. Should have just left him there. He would have been cleared eventually and released and everything would be okay."

Harry stared at the fire while Cappy rolled around on his lap. Getting Sirius out of Hogwarts was the best way to get Sirius out of Harry's head. As the fire cracked and popped, he was reminded of when he had first seen Sirius' head sticking out that very fire. It was a strange situation but the conversation that had ensued after the initial shock wore off was one of his best yet. If only he could do that once more.

But no, that was a dream. Ron was staring at Harry with the same tragic look that Professor Trelawney had evidently taught him how to give. Harry started to feel like the whole world was against him. First Sirius dies and then Cho walks out. What was next?

For a time during Harry's second year, he was thought throughout the entire school to be the one opening the Chamber of Secrets, setting the basilisk inside it on students and petrifying them. He wouldn't mind that so much now -- at least during that he got support from Ron and Hermione and not well chosen, slightly poetic words that were supposed to make Harry feel better. Can it get any worse? Yes, Harry thought irritably, it can.

"Cappy, what are you doing..." said Harry.

Cappy was rolling back and forth on the edge of his knee, threatening to fall off.

"She's going to run away again, isn't she," said Ron, getting ready to pounce the moment she moved.

All of their eyes were on Cappy and no sooner had Hermione shouted, "GRAB HER!" than Cappy had plunged herself through the portrait hall. Ron missed.

"COME BACK HERE YOU STUPID PUFFSKEIN! THAT'S IT, SHE'S GOING BACK TO HAGRID!" Harry roared so loud that he more than likely woke a few people up. "Accio Dragonback!"

Broomstick in hand, Ron and Hermione followed Harry through the hall and chased after Cappy. She took the exact same path: down the corridor away from the Fat Lady's portrait, slipping through their fingers and heading towards the third floor corridor.

"Not again," Harry sighed, pulling out his wand. "It's a shame Summoning Charms don't work on living things."

"They do," Hermione said, frowning at Harry. "Accio Cappy!"

She should not have done that.

The jet of light flew from her wand through the crack of the door leading into the late Fluffy's room and hit Cappy square on the fur.

It would have worked out great, except just as it hit, a white light shout out of Cappy's outstretched tongue. Suddenly Hermione was lifted off her feet, arms flailing, and crashed headlong through the door, smashing into the back wall with a sickening crunch. She managed to stick an arm out to prevent her head from getting the full impact.

Harry and Ron both gasped and stood dumbstruck for a few moments.

"Hermione!"

Harry ran inside, Ron at his heel, putting all his troubles aside. The trap door was ajar but more important was Hermione. There was a bit of blood leaking down her brown, bushy hair. Hermione's eyes were closed and she was crumpled up against the wall. Her left arm stuck out at an odd angle.

"She's not dead... is she?" asked Ron, quivering at the thought.

Harry put two fingers to her neck to check for a pulse.

"No," he said, "still alive. She's out cold -- and she's got a broken arm." Harry stood up and turned, full of purpose, to Run. "Get her to the hospital wing. I'll get the stupid puffskein."

Ron nodded and turned towards the limp Hermione.

"Mobilicorpus," he said, wand pointed at Hermione and he was off without a backward glance.

"All right you stupid animal," Harry barked.

He mounted the Dragonback and dived straight into the hole.

"Lumos!" he shouted when he landed. His wand lit up the room as daylight and not as a mere small flashlight. It was still damp, dark and gloomy and drips of water invaded the otherwise eerie silence.

The candle from last time was gone. Had someone been down here? Had someone known they were down here?

Harry headed down through the flying key room and the door stood ajar. A faint, cold hiss came from from inside.

"Cappy?"

He knew Cappy couldn't make that kind of sound but he tried to make himself believe it. Harry poked his head in and looked all around the giant chess board. The hiss sounded again and Harry walked inside. Snakes were no problem; he could simply tell them to leave him alone -- if they were small.

Cappy was still not visible and the door at the end of the giant chess board was also open. Harry put his wand in first and looked around. It lit the room like a large candle but yet again, Cappy was nowhere to be found. If he did not spot Cappy in the chamber of the Philosopher's Stone, he would just head back.

Harry walked through the chamber where the troll used to be. Still no Cappy but he heard the faint, cold hiss once again and this time it was slightly louder and venomous. He stepped across the room carefully and went towards the door at the other side.

He slowly walked through the door and into the room where the potions had been. Again, no Cappy anywhere in sight and thankfully, the fires were not lit so he could walk in and out freely.

He walked through the passage and heard the hiss, louder than ever. Harry stumbled backwards at the sight of what faced him, his eyes livid.

The basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets was there in all it's ugly glory. At least twenty feet long, still thick enough to eat Hagrid in one swallow, it's eyes perfectly normal again. There was no sword sticking out of the roof of it's mouth and it was apparently sleeping, coiled up like a thick rope.

The scream that escaped Harry's mouth had woken it up.

The basilisk hissed madly as it's yellow eyes began to reveal themselves. Harry jammed his own eyes shut, heart now beating in his throat, and did the fastest about-face in his life. The snake not visible to him, he reopened his eyes and ran as fast as his legs would take him.

The basilisk was a force to be reckoned with as Harry heard it slither madly through each and every corridor, breaking stone and Harry's hopefulness of getting out alive alike.

Not thinking about anything except getting out of there, Harry mounted his Dragonback and flew with as much precision, trying carefully not to slam into walls, as he could muster. He was barely able to go faster than the basilisk, carefully maneuvering through the troll room... the potion room... the giant chess set... the flying keys. When he was in the Devil Snare room, Harry shot straight up, hearing the hissing of the basilisk die away.

"Come!" hissed the cold, venomous voice. "Let me tear... rip..."

He slammed the trap door shut, kicked Fluffy's door wide open, ran through it and slammed it shut, too. Harry leaned against it, breathing so heavy his lungs were expanding several inches on each breath. He finally became aware of the sweat pouring down his face and leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees. He lay the Dragonback and his wand on the floor.

The basilisk, alive again? Can't be, he saw it die... And how would it get into the chamber of the Philosopher's Stone?

Worst of all, Harry could not be seen being out at night. Dumbledore would keep his word of expelling Harry should he be doing any more rule-breaking and sneaking out and into an underground passage would definitely count as breaking at least one rule.

All of his attention was quickly averted from his thoughts, his breathing stopped and he looked straight ahead, his eyes livid, when he heard it again.

"Kill... let me rip..."

Harry took two steps away from the door, picking up his broom and wand, and turned around, staring at the closed door.

There was another hiss, a clunk, a loud thud and then --

BANG.

Harry muffled his scream this time as the door flew across the corridor, bits of stone and wood trailing behind it, and crawling out of the trap door was the basilisk. Harry crossed the corridor and reached the main stairs in record time. At that very moment, Ron had come running.

"RUN!" Harry shouted.

Ron stopped and said, "Why?"

"DO IT!"

Obviously, Harry didn't have to explain. The basilisk had come bounding around the corner. Harry had no time to think. If this went on any longer, the castle could suffer extreme damage and there was no telling how much damage the basilisk already did underground.

His brain went on autopilot. He closed his eyes, pointed his wand at the door where the basilisk was and shouted two words, wondering whether they would work or not.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Harry heard nothing. No flash of green light, no pop from the end of his wand, no roar of the basilisk's death cry, no screaming. The spell had failed. But no sooner had he opened his eyes to see the basilisk brandish it's fangs at him, only able to see down it's throat, ready to kill him properly this time, than had the basilisk disappeared before his eyes.

Harry, shaking, tapped Ron on the shoulder and turned him around.

"Something strange is DEFINITELY going on down there," said Ron, staring at the space where just a minute ago there was a huge, poisonous snake.

Maybe Ron could speak, but Harry was too busy waiting for his heart to sink back into his chest.

"Come on," Ron said, tugging on Harry's outstretched arm (Harry had not put his wand down). "It's gone, let's go."

Harry allowed himself to be pulled a few feet before he could say, "The thing broke the trap door and the other door is broken. We better fix it, I'm not getting expelled because of a pet."

"Where's Cappy?"

"I don't know and I don't care," said Harry quickly and firmly. "The basilisk was sleeping in the last chamber. You could say that my screaming might have woken it up."

With almost a half hour's worth of fruitless efforts, they were able to put the door back on it's hinges after many, many failed tries of "Compingus Reparo." Harry was the one that managed to close the three foot wide hole in Fluffy's room with another charm. When they were both convinced it looked like no damage had been done, they set off towards the common room, meeting nobody, thankfully, on the way.

"How's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron when they got back. They both fell heavily onto a squashy armchair and stared into space.

"Madam Pomfrey was convinced when I said she messed up a Summoning Charm," Ron replied. "She does have a broken arm and she's got a cut on the top of her head. Should be back tomorrow morning. How'd that thing come back?" he added gravely, looking up at Harry.

Harry looked back, puzzled.

"I don't know. Are they hiding something down there again and that's just one of the defensive spells guarding it? I mean, it just disappeared..."

They both climbed the spiral stairs to their dormitory after staring nonplussed at each other for a good minute.

Harry did not care much about how he fell asleep that night. All he wanted was to get any sleep at all and so he clutched the Order of Merlin plaque in his fingers, hiding it under his covers.

During Divination the next day, Professor Trelawney had made it clear this was their last day with dreams and visions.

Ron followed Harry up the ladder through the trap door in the ceiling and they both took a seat on a pouf in the back of the room, farthest from the insect-like person they were supposed to call a Professor. She looked thinner than usual through the dim light of the fire. Harry watched as Professor Trelawney adjusted her shawl and sat on an armchair just in front of the fire.

She peered around the room, gazing at them all. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, to whom Professor Trelawney was something of a hero, much like Harry was to Dennis Creevey, gaped at her in awe. There was nothing to speak of about Professor Trelawney of being out of the ordinary today. She turned to look at Harry and the usual look of tragic sorrow crossed her face. Harry rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall.

"I wish I would just drop dead so you could finally feel that that look you always give me is worth something," said Harry, his anger getting the best of him, staring her in the eye.

"My dear, one should not wish something on oneself especially when draped with the clairvoyant vibrations of this room," she replied. Ron successfully hid a snigger. Harry felt a stab of annoyance.

Professor Trelawney pulled out the wolf pelt from behind her chair and laid it out in front of her. Parvati and Lavender stared at it. At once, Professor Trelawney beckoned people forward to try and dream. Snape seemed to have given her an endless supply of potion to help as was evident by the huge jug of pink, swirly potion that she concealed behind her armchair.

Ron awoke with, to Harry's relief, just a shrug. At last, "Potter," Professor Trelawney called.

Harry laid himself down, spread-eagle again, on the wolf pelt. She never really explained why they had to stretch their arms and legs out but Harry heard her mumble something like "it helps you relax." There was nothing relaxing about looking like an idiot. Harry jerked his wrist a few times to stop his watch's face from poking into it and pulled the Order of Merlin plaque out from under his armpit before he reluctantly let Professor Trelawney slip the pink, swirly potion down his throat. The effect was instant.

The world beneath him disappeared once again and the floor felt like air. All the sensations in his body disappeared at once and once again he could not move any part of himself. Blackness filled his eyes as he waited anxiously for something to appear before him. He would like to have had use of his thoughts... but that was not possible, just as before.

A swirl of color swam before his eyes and this time there was just black, a distinct golden color and the shape of something that became so big, so fast, drowning out the black, that Harry couldn't make it out. It became very wide, not tall, and from it shined a white light so bright that Harry's eyes squinted from the brilliance. He was looking down on something.

A hand came into view, a hand that looked remarkably like the one Voldemort had blessed Wormtail with, and flattened itself over the mysterious object. Harry, who, as before, had taken on the living persona of whoever he was seeing through -- and it was Wormtail, there was no question -- moved his lips as he gazed down at the object.

"Friends and family, relatives and relations all gather for a revival. What floats before us is the soul of soulless and what lies before us is the body of the soulless."

Harry could feel a heavy but comfortingly warm breeze kick up. He didn't know where he was, Wormtail's head and eyes wouldn't move. The object flashed brighter briefly, as if there were bolts of lightning nearby.

"Circled around the soulless, we reattach the soul it's body. Friends of the victim around provide a will to return."

The breeze quickly became quite uncomfortable as it picked up in speed and became increasingly hotter. Wormtail did not speak for a minute. Heat grazed Harry's -- or rather, Wormtail's -- skin and beads of sweat broke out over his forehead.

"Trusted friend of the birthgivers stand at the foot, providing a beacon for direction. The birthgivers stand at the sides, beckoning the detached closer."

A bunch of eerie voices filled the air, which became swelteringly hot. The wind was like a hurricane, trying it's hardest to knock him over. There was more to be read, but Wormtail did not continue. His hand left Harry's view and soon the object became half as wide.

"Good," said Wormtail as the eerie voices left, the storm disappeared, the air returned to normal and the wind became nothing, "it's here... the plan will go on... Now, he must not get it, he can't... I won't let him... the Dark Lord won't be able to get what he wants if he does..."

Wormtail's hand covered the object once more and as his head finally turned to reveal his location, the vision was swept away before Harry could recognize it. He felt himself falling again as feeling returned to him and he awoke trying to decipher what the object was, ignoring for a minute Professor Trelawney ("My dear, what did you see?") with a look of pure confusion on his face. It hit him like a dragon's tail to the arm.

"I was looking through Wormtail's eyes," Harry said, propping himself up on his hands. "He was reading from the Book of Memories. I think it was the incantation to attach a soul to it's body?"

Harry failed to mention what Wormtail said after he finished reading. That information was to be saved for Ron and Hermione in a corner of the Gryffindor common room that night.

"He was saying 'he must not get it.' I know who he was talking about," said Harry miserably, "me. He was reading that thing Dumbledore used to revive me that summer. Wormtail also said 'the Dark Lord won't be able to get what he wants if he does...' It doesn't take a genius to figure out what he's going to do."

Ron straightened up in his chair, a look on his face that was a mixture of puzzlement and horror, and Harry could see the gears in his brain working furiously. Hermione simply stared in a bemused sort of way before opening her mouth. Ron turned to look at her.

"Well Harry was right then, wasn't he?" she said as if that was the end of the story. "When we didn't want to trust Dumbledore?"

"Then that makes me worry about Dumbledore," said Ron, injecting much unnecessary confusion.

"Why would Dumbledore trust him!" Harry yelled. "He's a backstabber. He tried to deceive the entire world into thinking he was dead. What's Wormtail up to now?"

"Maybe... d'you think... that... just maybe you should listen to Dumbledore?" said Hermione timidly. She was expecting to get thrown another flurry of explicatives from Harry.

"I don't have much choice, do I," he said, looking down at his feet. Crookshanks was purring by his leg and Harry shooed him away. There was an awkward silence.

"Dumbledore hasn't been wrong yet," Hermione said, trying to break the silence. "I mean, there has to be something behind his trust, hasn't there?"

"I don't think so," said Harry irritably. "Wormtail doesn't want me getting the book because then Lord Voldemort -"

"But why didn't he just swipe it and run out?" interrupted Hermione.

"How's he going to run out with something when everyone knows he's there? Conceal it under an Invisibility Cloak?"

Harry should not have said that -- the horror that followed on all their faces was unmatched.

"The worst thing about it is my dreams are usually present, not the future which means he was playing with it just then. Where is it anyway?"

"Where else? Where the Philosopher's Stone was," said Ron.

"I was there twice," said Harry, "remember? Where is it? There was nothing in that last chamber except the basilisk."

The fact of what they saw and where they knew the book must be -- and there was no other place it could be hidden as Harry knew all the secret passages thanks to his trusty map of Hogwarts -- turned off any light bulbs in even Hermione's head as to how to get to it. What if they saw something even scarier than the basilisk? A chimera? A nundu? What if there was something so shocking that they passed out and were left to rot? And most importantly -

"What kinda spell can do that?" said Ron, scratching his head. "What was it? A shadow? A spell? Were your aunt and uncle and the basilisk really there? I mean, your aunt, Harry... and the basilisk again..."

The absurdity of how that sounded didn't set in for quite a while. Aunt Petunia, Harry's aunt, sister of Lily Potter, the one woman that could not possibly hate magic more than any other living being on this earth... no, couldn't be.

"Is she?" asked Harry. "Two strange things down there. I mean, I just think there's another Petunia Dursley out there. What about that other dream I had?"

"Oh, I figured that out ages ago," Hermione said, downplaying any sort of mystery surrounding it. "You saw Pettigrew running through the forest and when he transformed into a rat, the vision just sort of failed and you woke up."

"Makes sense," said Ron, "kinda..."

"But now what do we do?" asked Harry.

"We don't do anything," Hermione said sharply. "Dumbledore has it under control even though I agree Pettigrew is lying. Should we tell Dumbledore about your dream?"

"He knows where the book is," Harry said matter-of-factly. "He can steal it any time he wants. It just doesn't make sense, why would Dumbledore trust him? And what good will telling Dumbledore do anyway -- he threatened to expell me, remember?" he added darkly.

They all exchanged dark looks.

"We should get to bed," said Ron. It sounded as though they would come up with an excellent plan to thwart Wormtail in the morning. His tone deceived nobody -- Ron was just as worried about what would happen as Harry and Hermione were.

Harry clutched the Order of Merlin plaque as he stood up -- which made him feel slightly less worried -- and held it in his hand all the way up the spiral stairs to his four-post bed.

He didn't need much convincing to think that Dumbledore was going to end up wrong this time and Wormtail would walk out of Hogwarts with the Book of Memories, having killed Dumbledore. Whatever kind of Dark magic Wormtail had in mind was one of the things that speared Harry's brain as he fell asleep that night.

During breakfast, as it has happened twice before, there was some Muggle music playing.

"Please come now, I think I'm falling," one voice was singing to a solo guitar. "I'm holding on to all I think is safe. It seems I've found the road to nowhere and I'm trying to escape."

"Where do they get these songs?" Ron asked as he stuffed his face with toast.

"I yelled back when I heard thunder... but I'm down to one last breath," sung the voice, "And with it let me say... let me say... Hold me now."

"This strange Muggle music..." said Ron.

"I'm six from the edge and I'm thinking," the voice sang, "'maybe six feet ain't so far down.'" Drums and a bass guitar joined the solo guitar. "I'm lookin' down... now that it's over..."

"I think this is a band called Creed," said Harry. "Don't know the song's name, though..."

"...reflecting on all of my mistakes," the voice continued to sing. "I thought I found the road to somewhere, somewhere in His grace..."

"Nevermind the song," said Hermione irritably. "I think we should talk to Hagrid. Yes?"

After all, they had to tell Hagrid off about Cappy and remember to not feel any remorse in saying that she was probably dead. Cappy ruined their night, almost got Harry expelled and made them even more angry at Dumbledore.

"I cried out 'heaven save me!'" the voice sung pleadingly, "But I'm down to one last breath... And with it let me say... let me say." Guitars kicked up louder.

"They saw fit to play heavy metal?" asked Hermione.

"It's a good song!" Ron said.

"Hold me now!" the voice continued singing. "I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking 'maybe six feet ain't so far down!' Hold me now! I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking 'maybe six feet ain't so far down!'"

Hermione glared at him.

"Let's go to Hagrid right after breakfast," said Harry.

"Sad eyes follow me but I still believe there's something left for me," the voice sang. "So please come stay with me!"

"I want to ask him what ever happened to the service for Sirius," Harry said.

"Cause I still believe there's something left for you and me," sung the voice, "for you and me, for you and me..." All the instruments except the solo guitar died away.

"What cemetery did you say they were going to put him in?" asked Ron.

"Hold me now," the voice still sang, all the instruments kicking in again, "I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking 'maybe six feet ain't so far down.' Hold me now! I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking 'maybe six feet ain't so far down!'"

"There's supposed to be a world-reknown cemetery in Mystic, Connecticut in the United States," said Harry. "He said it's an entirely wizarding town."

All the instruments died away again except for the solo guitar and the voice sang, "Please come now, I think I'm falling. I'm holding on to all I think is... safe..."

"Wow," said Ron, awestruck. "A city? Is it bigger than Hogsmeade?"

"I don't know. It's been a month," said Harry, ignoring Ron's change of subject. "What's the hold up?"

December meant coldness at Hogwarts and there was nothing but a carpet of snow on the grounds. There was no wind to speak of but snow and slush, both of which crept into Harry's shoes, making his feet much colder than the hands hidden under his cloak. Hagrid's hut resembled a frosted cake, perfect for a postcard. Snow was neatly piled on top of the roof and there was a lone icicle on the side of it.

They noticed Norbert was nowhere to be found. In his place, there was a deep impression of his tail, feet and claws. Hagrid's door was closed but the lights on in his hut indicated at least someone was in there. As they edged closer, they heard voices coming from inside and it wasn't just Hagrid talking to himself.

"Harry's taking Sirius very hard," said the voice of Dumbledore.

On gut instinct, Hermione grabbed Ron and Harry by the arm and darted behind a tree in the forest, far enough so they couldn't be seen, close enough so they could still hear. Harry forgot all about his numb toes.

"Harry actually wanted a - a funeral?" said Hagrid incredulously.

"Yes," said Dumbledore with utmost assuredness.

"You haven't told him then... have you?" Professor McGonagall asked Dumbledore.

Harry opened his mouth in horror, ready to shout something but Hermione put a hand over it before he could.

"No, I have not," said Dumbledore sharply but sincerely. "I will be arranging Sirius' funeral but I just need a touch more time."

Several of them sighed at once.

"I'm afraid we need to cut this conversation short, Albus," said Professor Moody.

"Damn that magical eye," Harry growled. He had a strong suspicion Professor Moody nodded his head in Harry's direction.

"Shh!" Hermione whispered sharply.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "Hagrid?"

"Okay, Professor," he said with confidence, though sounding slightly sad.

"See you at lunch then."

Hagrid's door opened and, when the professors' footsteps were no longer audible, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked over to Hagrid's closed front door. Harry knocked rather loudly and Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, answered with a bark.

"Comin'!" Hagrid shouted. "Just a sec!" There was a lot of fumbling of papers, a clang of something metal against wood and after a few seconds, Hagrid opened the door, beaming.

Harry immediately said loudly, "Tell me what, Hagrid?" before Hermione could stop him.

"I ain't sayin' nothing," said Hagrid turning his nose up and turning around. "Yeh can come and talk, but I ain't answerin' that."

"Going to keep something -- don't try to shut me up Hermione --" he said, ignoring her, "from me again?"

"Yeh knew perfectly well you mighta been better off not hearin' that, Harry," said Hagrid sharply in a voice most unlike his own. "And yeh gotta trust me, this yeh don't want ter know. So, er -- yeh wanted a funeral?" he added, trying desperately to change the subject. Harry took the hint.

"Yes," he said, letting go of the thought of trying to force whatever it was out of Hagrid. "But I have to tell you, I'm starting to hate Dumbledore."

"Don't hate him. Has yer best interests in mind, he does. Sit down, c'mon, all of yeh," said Hagrid, receeding back to his usual self. "Yer freezin'!"

Harry suddenly became very aware of the fact that he could no longer feel his toes -- or the rest of his foot for that matter. He took his shoes off and turned each one upside down, dumping a considerable amount of snow on Hagrid's floor. None of that stopped him from continuing on about Dumbledore.

"My best interests? And what does Professor Dumbledore need more time for?" he said irritably putting his shoes back on.

"Rock cake?" said Hagrid suddenly, shoving a piece in Harry's hand.

Without thinking about how bad it probably tasted, Harry took a bite out of it. To his surprise, it was not rock hard and on the contrary, it tasted quite good, unlike previous versions. This must have shown on his face because Hagrid smiled, offering one to Ron and Hermione, both of whom accepted it.

"New recipe from the house elves," said Hagrid, sticking his chest out proudly. "Winky suggested it. Finally feelin' up to herself. Doin' a great job makin' our food."

"Where's Norbert, Hagrid?" said Ron, mouth full of cake. Immediately, Hagrid's eyes swelled with tears. "Sorry..."

"No," Hagrid sobbed, "'s okay, really. Norbert got a little testy last night. Nearly set fire ter me hut and the forest. I been fillin' out paperwork ter send him back ter Romania. Took him away this mornin'. I'll be all right. Harry's the one that we need ter look after," he added, a broad grin evident behind his tangled beard again.

Harry gave him a pair of evil eyes. Hagrid took the hint and shuffled several papers on his table and put them in a cabinet. Truthfully, Harry couldn't deny he never felt so miserable. As much as he wanted there to be any amount of hope for Sirius, Dumbledore confirming the funeral was the cherry on the top of the cake.

The conversation quickly switched to creatures Hagrid was going to show. When Hagrid said he was going to bring a dementor, Ron and Hermione's eyes swelled with fear but Harry's brightened.

"You're mad, Harry," said Ron matter-of-factly.

He wasn't. He was able to ward off hundreds of dementors only three years ago with one spectacular Patronus Charm. Even Professor Lupin, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for that one year, was impressed. Hagrid explained that Professor Moody would join him during the dementor lessons to teach the Patronus Charm.

When all was said, eaten and drunk, Harry continued to remind Ron and Hermione that --

"I don't like Dumbledore anymore," said Harry turning his nose up at the thought of ever trusting him again.

The three of them were taking a walk around the lake, Harry's dad's cloak, enlarged and folded to fit, around all of them. It was much easier to talk when you weren't freezing from head to frostbitten toe.

"I can't say I don't disagree, Harry," said Hermione, "but, honestly..."

"He kept Sirius' condition from me -- even though I probably shouldn't have found out -- and he's doing it again!" said Harry hotly. "And Wormtail -"

"Harry's right, Hermione," Ron interrupted, turning to look at her, a grim look on his face. "There's still no finding out why he's letting Pettigrew -"

"Wormtail -"

"whatever -- roam the halls of Hogwarts knowing perfectly well he's likely to... to... to --"

"Steal it," said Hermione, finishing Ron's sentence for him, as he was having a lot of trouble doing so himself, "I know. I still think he would have walked out with it under an Invisibility Cloak already. He's had plenty of chances."

"He's biding his time," said Ron, his voice firm but shaky, trying to understand Hermione's stupid line of thought. "Waiting 'till we don't suspect him -- and neither of you better tell me you don't think he knows we suspect him -- and then he'll run off with it. It's either that or he's trying to find out how to use it so he can kill all of us and walk out without any trouble. In fact, I'll bet everything I own on that. But he's dumb. He's likely to screw up." Ron turned to Harry and asked, "How many times has You-Know-Who said he's dumb?"

"Countless," Harry assured.

"And there's nothing either of can do because when it comes down to it," he said both irritably and miserably, " -- you're the brains, Hermione and Harry does all the dirty work. I'm just here to keep you two laughing so you don't lose your marbles. Dumbledore's going to expell Harry if he's caught once more and -- neither of us, Harry, honestly, are as good wizards as you are. And we've just been very lucky Snape or someone hasn't found us."

Harry's head swelled with the thought, both of them... but he shook it off. He didn't want to think about either of them.

Once again, they all exchanged dark looks. Hermione nodded gravely in agreement. When it all came down to how it would happen, Ron said it exactly as how Harry and Hermione thought it would.