- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Characters:
- Harry Potter Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black
- Genres:
- Action Drama
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
- Stats:
-
Published: 03/12/2003Updated: 06/18/2004Words: 105,717Chapters: 17Hits: 25,132
Harry Potter and the Dark Mark
venus
- Story Summary:
- The sequel to Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor. In Harry's 6th year, the Wizarding world is in bedlam: the dark movement is on the rise with a streak of senseless murders one after the other after the other. Harry's quest to stop the terror leads to the revelation of ancient secrets, re-visiting the past , and some old scores are *finally* settled!
Chapter 07
- Chapter Summary:
- The sequel to Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor. In Harry’s 6th year, the Wizarding world is in bedlam: the dark movement is on the rise with a streak of senseless murders one after the other after the other. Harry’s quest to stop the terror leads to the revelation of ancient secrets, re-visiting the past, and some old scores are *finally* settled!
- Posted:
- 05/24/2003
- Hits:
- 879
Chapter Seven: A Revelation and
a Prediction
"Harry! You all right, mate?"
Ron was holding Harry's arm tightly-- his entire body had simply
collapsed and only Ron's quick reflexes kept him from falling onto the ground.
But Ron's words were coming at Harry slowly and muffled, as though from a
thousand miles away. And that's because Harry was still in that other place--
the unappealing home he'd spent so much time in as a boy with the woman who'd
fed him freezer-burned ice cream and shared pictures of her her cats. The
ancient woman with the round, wrinkly face and frazzled gray hair whom his Aunt
and Uncle simply adored -- Mrs. Figg.
" . . . had a rough couple of days . . ."
Someone was talking to him again. Harry slowly came back to the present--
Hermione was explaining his odd behavior to . . . to that woman. Ron was walking
Harry to their usual seat at the desk.
"Ah," said Mrs. Figg to Hermione, "I see."
Harry was shell-shocked. She was real-- as real as she'd always
been. Short, portly and dour-faced. She spoke normally and there was every
indication that Harry was indeed not hallucinating. Except for the fact
that it was entirely impossible!
"M-Mrs. F-Figg?" Harry was finally able to sputter out.
She laughed. "Surprised, are we?"
"Oh?" said Hermione, "you two know each other?"
The short woman kept her keen blue eyes on Harry. "Just for the record,
Harry, it's actually Ms. Figg. I've never been married. But I much prefer
Professor Figg-- or better yet-- just plain Arabella."
"How do you know her?" Harry could hear the confusion in Ron's voice, but
couldn't pry his eyes off of the smiling old woman.
"Er . . . sh-she used to baby-sit for me. . . sh-she livesup the
road from me! Aunt Petunia adores her!"
Arabella was grinning. "Yes, yes, all quite true."
"Hang on," said Ron slowly. Harry turned to see Ron's eyebrow raised.
"You're . . . Arabella Figg?"
She bowed regally.
"I've heard about you! But . . . I thought that you were . . . well. . ."
"Mad?" she offered.
"Well . . . yes!"
She nodded, "Yes, living amongst Muggles will do that to you."
Harry whipped around to Ron. "You've heard of her?"
"Of course! 'Mad Old Ara--' er, that is . . . well. . . yes, I've heard
of her."
"B-but she's been my neighbor for as long as I've lived at Privet Drive!
Ron, don't you remember me telling you about her? She used to feed me
decades-old ice cream and make me look at all of her photo albums--"
"Oh" Ron cried, "This is Mrs. Figg?!?"
"Yes!"
"Bloody hell!"
Ron and Hermione were now staring at Mrs. Figg with the same sort of
wide-eyed disbelief as Harry. By now, the rest of the Gryffindors and
Hufflepuffs were filing in to their seats and Ron and Hermione did the same. The
students were all whispering excitedly at the presence of the new Professor.
Harry was trying not to faint.
Arabella Figg wrote her name in large thick letters on the blackboard and
turned to face the class. (Ron whispered to Harry that he might want to close
his mouth-- he was still gaping).
"Hello, class. I know that everyone was beginning to get used to the idea
of having a permanent Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, but dear
Professor Gray has requested an indefinite leave of absence."
The class broke out into more whispering and the Hufflepuff girls looked
downright devastated. "I am taking his place, although I don't pretend
that I can replace him. I understand that he was dearly loved here. . ."
Vigorous nods of agreement.
". . . and I hope that he will return later this year, as he was a
great asset to Hogwarts."
Harry cracked a smile at her sweet words.
"As you can see, my name is Arabella Figg and, I'm sure that for most of
you, the question that you are wondering is . . ." she gave a pregnant pause.
"why did they give this job to a Mad old woman like me."
Slightly nervous chuckles.
"Well, Dumbledore must have been desparate, I agree with you all, but
actually I have taught Hogwarts classes before. If you can believe it, I was at
one time a young woman, and I taught here for almost ten years. I was the
Astronomy Professor, so I am most excited about taking on this class."
Harry didn't hear much of her lecture. How could he? Everytime he looked
at her dressed in her long dark purple robes and matching velvet hat, he was
reminded of life back on Privet Drive. He remembered her dark purple afghans, he
remembered Fluffy and Snowy and the rest her cats. He remembered Dudley knocking
her over and he remembered the time she broke her leg when she tripped over one
of her cats. . . that same woman was now lecturing him on prominent dark
wizards of the middle ages.
If only Aunt Petunia could see her now! (For someone who had such a
hatred for Wizards, she certainly spent a lot of time befriending them!)
In what felt like the very next instant, the class was over and Arabella
was assigning the homework. Ron and Hermione were heading out the door and Harry
dawdled behind them, hoping for Arabella to ask him to stay behind.
She was clearing her desk and the next class was already coming in. She
looked up and found Harry standing still, staring at her.
She winked. "See you tomorrow, Harry."
The shock had left Harry numb-- he couldn't even feel his feet as he
walked up towards the Gryffindor common room. In the few hours before supper,
the Gryffindors lounged around the room, supposedly working on their homework.
But not even Hermione was really paying any attention to her textbooks-- there
was much to much to talk about! All in one day: there had been another dark mark
attack, they'd lost their favorite dark arts Professor and now had 'Mad Old
Arabella Figg' as their new one.
"I've heard she's a flippin' psychopath," Seamus was saying. "Mum says
that about twenty years ago she was actually exiled from the Wizarding world and
forced to live with Muggles as punishment."
"Punishment?" Lavender Brown asked. "For what?"
"Well . . . I dunno, exactly. But I do know that she had a terrible
reputation-- always hung around Knockturn Alley and the like. Mum reckoned that
for a while she probably even mingled with You Know Who--"
"Seamus," said Hermione, "that's a big accusation, you know. Dumbledore
obviously trusted her enough to work here!"
"I know, I know. I'm just telling you-- dodgy, you know?"
"I'm gonna miss Professor Gray," said Ginny quietly. "He was. . ."
"Dreamy?" said Ron with a giggle.
"A nice bloke," said Ginny defensively, sticking her tongue out at
her brother. Parvati Patil laughed. "Yeah. . . but dreamy too."
"It is unbelievable," said Dean. "We really thought the spell had
finally been broken, but now I really am convinced that position is
cursed! What do you suppose Professor Figg meant by "personal matters"?"
Harry, Ron and Hermione kept absolutely silent.
"I don't know," said Neville, "But Malfoy really scared me for a minute
with that Sirius Black line."
"Aye," said Seamus, "that mangy git. He really must have been
angry to pull a joke like that!"
"He makes me sick to my stomach," said Ron dryly and then he hopped to
his feet in the next instant. "Right! Hungry, anyone?"
They Gryffindors went down to supper, laughing at Ron and throwing out
theories about Professor Gray-- except for Harry. He was confused about many
things at the moment, but the one thing he did know was that he certainly
wasn't hungry. He waved Ron and Hermione to go on without him and he settled in
a large, comfy armchair. The silcence of the usually clamarous common room was
most soothing.
Harry closed his eyes, dearly wanting to rest, but all he could think of
was her and how little he knew about his own life. Just when he thought
he was getting a handle on the things in his life, something like this always
came up! From the moment he entered the Wizarding world it had been a
neverending roller coaster of surprises. From discovering that his Godfather was
a falsely accused serial killer, to last year's revelation that he was the last
living Heir of Godric Gryffindor and now this! His old baby-sitter-- a witch!
He couldn't rest.
Harry got to his feet and left the common room, hoping a long walk would
do him some good. It was quiet in the corridors-- some of the portraits were
talking softly to each other, but other than that, silence. He walked outside in
the direction of the greenhouses. The moon was full and brilliant and Harry
could see the silvery landscape perfectly under its light.
"Good evening, Harry."
Startled, Harry spun around to find Arabella standing behind him. The
silver lighting of the moon made her hair and skin shine like pewter and it
seemed to hide her age.
"Mrs. Figg!" said Harry, that name feeling strange on his tounge.
She bowed her head how-do-you-do and came to where Harry stood, smiling
up at him. "Didn't see you at supper. What are you doing out here all by
yourself?"
He shrugged.
"Well . . . care to take a walk with a lonely old woman?"
As if she had to ask! They walked slowly across the thick, cool grass.
"There were so many times that I wanted to tell you, Harry. Especially
during the last few years-- I've been positively aching to tell you." She
laughed. "And I'd just like to apologize about the frozen ice cream-- never
having much of a taste for the confection myself, I kept it only in case I had
to child mind."
"It's okay. Really. Before I came to Hogwarts, you were the only person
who was kind to me."
"I rather got the impression you weren't terribly fond of me."
Harry had to laugh. "I can't lie-- no, I wasn't. But ten year olds aren't
usually fond of being shown pictures of cats. But you did let me watch
the telly!"
"Well, I never had any children of my own-- and I knew nothing of
what Muggle little boys did for fun. If I'd been allowed to use magic, I could
have shown you a grand time. But I was under strict orders not to: the Ministry
watched my home like a hawk."
"Why?"
"Muggles believed that I was just like them and I was the
Ministry'sonly way of keeping tabs on you. The fact that Vernon and
Petunia took a liking to me was an added bonus-- and then they started
asking me to child-mind and I coulkdn't have been happier." Her smile faded
slightly. "I knew just how horrific those Dursleys were to you, Harry. And that
Dudley! Oh, what aterror!"
Harry sprang to Dudley's defense. "Oh, Dudley's all right. He's changed a
lot!"
"And thankfully so. But I still remember how horrible they were to you.
Even trying to keep you from going to Hogwarts-- I had to have Dumbledore send
Hagrid ASAP!"
Ahhh. So that's how it happened . . .
"It's been difficult living so close to you yet being unable to be a part
of your life as I so wanted to be." She sighed, her eyes suddenly distant. "I
adored your father and mother. And I'd been friends of James' parents years ago
when I worked at Hogwarts--"
Harry stopped in his tracks. "My Grandparents? You knew my Grandparents?"
"Oh heavens, yes! George and Gwendolyn-- wonderful people!
Gwendolyn and I . . . weren't the best of friends at first. You see, I used to
teach at Hogwarts, ah me, a lifetime ago it seems. I was young and thought I
knew it all-- I was the youngest Professor the school ever employed, actually.
Only twenty-one. I used to but-heads with the older crowd quite regularly.
Especially dear Albus-- oh, how he and I used to fight like cats and dogs!"
"When did you teach there?"
"It was . . . the late forties, I believe. I started teaching in 1945--
your Grandmum was a third year and your Grandfatehr was a sixth year." Arabella
smiled. "apparently George rather fancied me then-- which is only normal for a
schoolboy when their teacher is young, not exactly bad looking and within
an attainable own age group."
"Uh-oh!" said Harry with a laugh.
"Yes, I'm certain that's why Hogwarts doesn't employ twenty-somethings
anymore. Gwendolyn despised me: she was postively in love with George. As head
of Slytherin house, I had fun taking points from her everytime she called me a
you know what."
Harry stopped in his tracks. "You're a Slytherin?"
"Yes, but don't hold that against me."
He laughed. "It's just-- every Slytherin I know is a bit . . ."
"I know. And so was I. The Gryffindors hated me-- well, the Gryffindor
girls hated me. The Gryffindor boys only said they hated me. Come
to think of it, I did tend to take more points from girls than boys. . ."
"Mrs. Figg! You're horrible!"
"I know!" she was laughing too. "And I knew it then! I was just young and
silly. Albus was always lecturing me and, oh dear, our arguments were
fierce. It earned me a reputation: all the Slytherin boys adored me. Half
the Hogwarts boys thought I was 'a diamond in the rough' the other half thought
I was 'misunderstood' and all of the girls wanted me dead. Even the
Slytherin girls joined their fellow houses on it." Her expression darkened
sharply. "I should have listened to Dumbledore. . .about my habit of making
favorites . . . he warned me about Riddle."
Harry gasped. "Voldemort?!?"
"Oh yes. Tom Riddle was a pet student of mine. I admit, I was blinded by
his sensitive nature and his brilliant mind. My first years at Hogwarts I
couldn't stop speaking about him. Dumbledore was alwous so cross with Tom. He'd
tell me there was something wrong about him. Tom would come to my office and
moan to me about how no matter how hard he tried, Dumbledore just wouldn't warm
up to him. He would cry and tell me about the horrible things that the other
students would say-- he hated being called a 'mudblood'," she paused, "he
was an orphan you know."
"oh yes, I know."
". . .he'd cry about the orphanagge and what terrible things happened
there. . . he made me feel so sorry for him." Arabella sighed. "I loved
that kid-- had such high hopes for him and was fiercely defensive
whenever Dumbledore spoke ill of him. I think he rather viewed me as a mother
figure, Tom did." Another sigh. "I had no idea how wrong I was. During his fifth
year, the chamber of secrets was opened here. Gwendolyn was a half blood, and
ended up petrified. Then little Myrtle Millwood was killed and we were
threatened with closing the school. It was a horrific time. . ."
Harry well understood what she meant. After all, he'd gone through the
same thing not so very long ago.
". . . It was the first time that Albus and I saw eye to eye. We had to
find the culprit. That was the only thing that mattered to either of us: saving
the school. And then up popped young Riddle with Hagrid. I'll never forget the
day he came running into Headmaster Dippet's office. Albus and I were assembled
in a meeting and he came bursting into the room, out of breath his black hair
falling in his eyes. . ." she paused, "just like yours always does, Harry. . ."
Harry grimaced.
". . . he was saying over and over again how he'd found him. He'd found
the monster behind the attacks. It was at first such wonderful news. That's
my boy, I remember thinking proudly. And then when he led us to Rubeus . .
." she shook her head. "I knew something was wrong. True, Rubeus had a penchant
for befriending dangerous animals, but Hagrid's loyalty was to Hogwarts first
and foremost and always. Keeping a pet that would threaten its closure was
completely ludicrous. But only Albus and I saw this! It was enough for
Headmaster Dippet and he had Rubeus expelled. Now, I may be a Slytherin, but I
liked Hagrid. That Valentines Day during the peak of the crisis on campus, he'd
sent me a Valentine and I'll never forget it: Roses are red, violets are
blue. The heavens are pretty, but not nearly as you. Are."
Harry laughed-- it sounded precisely like a Valentine Hagrid would send.
Horrific in its eloquence, but matchless in its' sincerity.
Arabella was laughing as well. "I still have that around the house
somewhere, actually. But I have the utmost respect for Hagrid even to this day,
as does Albus. And when Tom put the blame on him. . . I became suspicious. I
didn't believe it for a second and I never looked at him the same way after
that."
She shook her head and then smiled at Harry again. "I've been wrong about
a great number of things in my life. I was wrong about your Grandmum as well!"
Harry smiled. "What was she like?"
"Gwendolyn? A sweeter soul I've yet to meet, to this day. I still feel
guilty about tormenting her at Hogwarts. After she'd graduated and I 'd left
teaching at Hogwarts, we met up by chance and . . . got along frightfully well.
When Geroge graduated, he and I actually did make a go at a relationship," she
laughed, "relationships never were my specialty. So I basically re-introduced
George and Gwendolyn and . . . well, of course, the rest is quite obvious."
Harry couldn't help himself. "Some of the kids are saying that you used
to be in with Voldemort."
Arabella stopped sharply and stared up at Harry-- for a minute Harry was
frightened! She looked angry and Harry immediately wished he'd kept his mouth
shut. "Only believe half of what you read and even less of what you hear, Harry.
I admit my reputation isn't exactly exemplary, but in a lifetime of eighty-two
years, having made mistakes is only natural."
Harry really wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Here he'd just spent all of
yesterday angry with the students for so easily believing what Malfoy had said
about Professor Gray, and here he was acting the same way to Mrs. Figg.
"So . . . why exactly have you been living up the road from me all these
years?"
She smiled. "Now there's a leading question if I've ever heard one!
Sixteen years ago, I decided it was time for me to retire. I bought a nice home
in Surrey. And then everything happened with your Mum and Dad and you were sent
to live with your Aunt and Uncle who lived down the road from me! So, the
ministry decided to use me to monitor you as you grew up." She playfully messed
Harry's thick raven hair. "And you've turned out admirably, my boy."
Harry blushed.
"But no, let's not talk of me. I want to know all about you! Quite the
popular one around here, aren't you! And Gryffindor's star Seeker, so I
understand. I know your father was a Chaser, but George was a Gryffindor Seeker
as well! Damn fine one too! Can't wait to see you play!"
"But you're a Slytherin," said Harry with a laugh. "You can't support
my team!"
She winked at him. "Believe me: if it involves putting a Malfoy in their
place, then I am right there with you."
They bade their adieus quite soon afterward, and Harry, remembering well
all of the secret passageways on his Marauders Map, took a short cut up to
Gryffindor tower.
Half of the dorms were already asleep, including Ron. (Ron was without a
doubt the most comical sleeper: his legs were so long they draped off to the
side and he slept with his mouth open against his pillow, snoring loudly.)
Hedwig sat on Harry's bed in a stately manner and Harry went straight to her and
scratched her head as she was expecting. Below her claws was a letter and
Harry's heart lept. He gently scooted Hedwig away and his hopes were confirmed:
Harry: "I hope this letter finds you well! I hope you aren't spending
your time worrying about me. Although I am very upset about having to leave
Hogwarts, I can assure you that all is well. Dumbleodore has arranged for me to
take up residence at a lovely home just outside of Hogsmeade, with someone who I
believe you know: Remus Lupin!
Harry lit up like he hadn't in two days!
"I knew that would put a smile on your face!
Good old Sirius.
He sends along his love, of course. Remus has been doing quite well
these past months. He has taken up a job working for Gringotts thanks to a favor
from your friend Ron's brother, Bill. It's not entirely his preference, but it
pays well. As Professor Gray, I am able to appear in public at times, although
caution is always taken.
"How are you enjoying your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?
Dumbledore told me who he was calling to take my place and I couldn't have been
more pleased. It seems that you weren't aware of Arabella Figg's wizarding
identity--I only wish I could have been there to see the look on your face.
I must go now, but please write to me and let me know when your first
visit to Hogsmeade is so that we can arrange a visit!
Love,
Sirius ~
Harry wrote back immediately:
Sirius:
I am so relieved to know that you are OK. I have been worried sick these
past two days but now I will be able to get a good night's sleep knowing that
you are well. And the fact that you are staying with Remus Lupin is an extra
treat! Tell him hello for me!
You knew about Mrs. Figg being a witch? I'm the last to know everything
around here. It is the strangest feeling having her on campus because I still
see her as my child-minder! It's exciting, though, in a weird kind of way. But
no one is going to compare to you-- you were everone's favorite. I think that
our first Hogsmeade visit is at the end of the month, so we'll be able to see
you soon! I can't wait!
I miss you!
Take care of yourself!
Love,
Harry "Wait Hedwig, I'm gonna give you a big job to do tonight." Harry pulled out two more parchments and addressed one to Dudley and one to Sophie. Harry knew that Dudley was going to be every bit as shocked about the revelation as Harry had been-- it would give the two something to talk about, and Harry was grateful to be able to talk about anything with Dudley. And Sophie. . . well, Sophie was the one person who just seemed to understand whatever Harry was feeling more than anyone else he'd ever known. * Dumbledore was beaming the next morning when he spied Harry walk into the great hall for breakfast. Harry folded his arms as Dumbledore flowed towards him and pretended to look cross. "You know, you could have told me about Mrs. Figg!" "And where would the fun in that have been?" He winked at Harry from overtop his spectacles and Harry couldn't help but let out a smile. Dumbledore's voice was decidedly quieter now, but his demeanor remained the same. "Your . . . Godfather has written you, I trust?" Harry nodded. "Excellent. Fudge has been much more . . . cooperative lately. He was not entirely keen on the idea of your Godfather and Mr. Lupin staying together, but I convinced him it would be much better for the ministry in the long run," Dumbledore's voice dropped to a hush, "the Black case is the last thing the Ministry should be worrying about at this point." Harry couldn't agree more and told Dumbledore so. Professor Dumbledore nodded and departed regally, and Harry met up with Ron and Hermione at the breakfast table. No sooner had he sat down that Hermione popped up out of her seat. "Sorry you lot, there's a prefect meeting before class up in McGonagall's office!" She straightened her robe and Dean was doing the same. "See you all in class!" she said with a smile, kissed Ron quickly on the cheek. "C'mon Dean, we'll be late!" Dean jumped up and threw his napkin on the table and then the two flurried off down the hall. Ron was staring after them, not looking entirely thrilled. Harry nudged his shoulder, "oh come on mate, I know what you're thinking and you'd better stop it right now." Ron shook his head and returned to his bowl of porridge. Come lunchtime he was in decidedly higher spirits as Hermione didn't have to run off to any urgent meetings during the break. The general buzz at the table was, of course, about Professor Figg. The general concensus was that she was a capable Professor, nothing to complain about, but next to Black, anything was bound to pale. "Mail for you, Harry," said Ron dutifully as they finished their lunch. Harry was ecstatic to find that Sophie's response to his letter from the previous night-- Wow, her Owl must be an incredible flyer! Harry: I am in a state of shock! I simply cannot believe everything that has happened in two days. I wish against wish that I could be there with you right this very second. What Malfoy has done is unthinkable-- even for being a Malfoy, that was stooping to an unexplored level of seediness. How could you not love this girl? I know that Sirius will be all right-- he always has been and always will be. And besides, Harry, even if he's not physically right there with you, his love is. Just like me. I'm hoping you knew that. Write back soon. All my love, Sophie To the great glee of Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter was turning fuschia. "Whoa! What, did she ask you to marry her or something?" he laughed, peering over Harry's shoulder nosily. Harry folded up the letter and slipped it into his satchel. "How about you keep your nose in your kippers, ok mate?" "Oh now that's just not fair, I would have let you read it if it were mine!" "But it's not yours, so that settles it." Harry and Ron bickered all the way up to the second floor for their concentration course A Study in Reason. After everything that Mrs. Figg had told him last night, perhaps it was only fitting that she should teach A Study in Reason-- after all, she propbably knew more about the reason behind bad wizards than anyone else! While we are on the subject of classes, for Harry and Hermione, every second Sunday was fast becoming their favorite day of the week. They were deeply engrossed in their studies, although they were fast becoming unrelentlessly laborious. The class had started off easily enough, learning the basic concepts of Apparition, but it soon evolved into a detailed study in human form and anatomy-- a subject Harry didn't exactly excel in. And, as Warwick pointed out repeatedly, it was essential to master a thorough knowledge of anatomy and human form as this was key to successful apparition. But, in all honesty, the real reason Harry found himself looking forward to the ministry classes is b excuse it afforded him the opportunity to see Sophie again. She lived about twenty minutes away from the Ministry, so when she heard about their classes, she was insistent that she meet up with them for lunch during their breaks. Seeing her once every two weeks was fantastic-- but murderous at the same time. Harry found himself aching for her when they were apart. Missing the touch of her hand on his shoulder, or the warmth of her dimpled smile. Harry's stomach would churn with excitement all throughout class, hardly able to stand the wait until lunchtime. Hermione told him that she thought it was just about the sweetest thing she'd ever seen: Harry turned pink everytime he saw her. "That's a good thing," she'd said supportively. "Girls like seeing things like that. I never know if I have that effect on Ron-- he's always pink!" And then, of course, there was Dudley. Harry had asked Professor Warwick if Muggles were allowed into the Ministry. She'd been a bit hesitant but then informed him yes, they were, as there were the occasional mandatory meetings with the Muggle Prime Minister. And when he asked Warwick if she thought his cousin Dudley could join them for lunch she looked very apprehensive. But to his surprise, she let him know that her superiors informed her it would be quite all right since he was a family member. Harry asked Dudley to come and have lunch with them on Sundays, and he'd really expected a flat refusal, but to his surprise and delight, Dudley accepted! The Ministry of Magic had a lovely half-timbered restaurant in the Ministry Gardens and since students weren't allowed off the premises, Sophie and Dudley came to visit them. Sophie and Dudley looked visibly awed by the Ministry and Harry made the necessary introductions to Professor McGonagall whom, Harry noticed, kept a cold front towards Dudley. "Isn't it unbelievable, Dudley? About Mrs. Figg?" Dudley had been staring with his mouth open at the restaurant and was pulled to attention. "I finally told Mum." "And?" "Oh you can imagine how thrilled she was." Dudley smiled. That smile was a ray of sunshine to Harry-it gave him hope that perhaps things were going to return to normal. Professor McGonagall sat back in her chair. "Do either of you lads remember her cats?" "Who doesn't," said Dudley. Harry's mouth fell, remembering all of them: Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws and Tufty! "You were one of them?" Minerva winked. "It was my duty to check up on Arabella on a regular basis. I'll never forgive Arabella for calling me 'Tufty.' She always laughed at my animagus, saying I made the mangiest looking cat she'd ever seen." She turned to Dudley, "I certainly remember you, Mr. Dursley." Dudley nodded. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot these days." "I was visiting Arabella at Magnolia Crescent one day to find her limping about on crutches because you had apparently knocked her over?" Dudley shook his head, "No, she already had her crutches! She was crossing the street and then I knocked her over." "Ah, my mistake. She'd fallen over one of her cats-- Mr. Paws, I think. She was most upset about it because while she lived at Magnolia Crescent she was not permitted to use magic-- couldn't even mend her poor leg." "People change, Professor McGonagall," said Sophie proudly, "and Dudley is a wonderful bloke," Dudley's smile vanished when she said that. Harry grew alarmed--he could see that strange aridness return to Dudley almost immediately. Harry's bright glimmer of hope faded as the conversation continued. Dudley relapsed back into his former habit of not giving Harry any eye contact and focusing his conversation solely on Hermione and Minerva. Harry felt defeated. Their hour passed much too quickly and they were making their way out of the restaurant and down the main entrance, saying goodbye to Sophie and Dudley. Sophie shook hands with Minerva who told her to give her father her regards. "I will. Dad was rather reluctant about letting us out on the street-- this place looks like a nuclear factory from the outside! Wait till I tell him how beautiful is!" "Sophie, first Quidditch match of the season is the day after Halloween. You said you wanted to come to a game this year, didn't you?" Sophie clasped her hands together. "Brilliant! How fantastic! Professor McGonagall--" "I'll see to it that Professor Dumbledore arranges it for you, Miss Banbury." Sophie was thrilled and landed Harry with a bear hug that sent Harry's senses into overload. As she pressed her body close against his, her lips brushed the edge of his ear. "I'll be counting the days." Her words played around in his ears, leaving him sweetly intoxicated. "Coming home for Christmas, cousin?" Dudley's arms were folded and he stood next to Hermione, his face revealing neither happiness nor anger. "Of course," Harry answered immediately. "Without a doubt!" Dudley nodded, still betraying no emotion. "Right. See you soon, then." "See you soon, Dudley." His voice was wistful as he watched Dudley turn and follow Sophie out back onto the main street. "Well!" said Professor McGonagall, "I must say, I'm most impressed with the young Dursley! I was certain that with parents as unforgiveably wretched as his, there would be no hope for his turning out as well as he has!" Harry nodded and then added, quietly, "Yeah. . . he's become one of my best friends." * Quidditch practice had been at half past six in the morning as usual, and to call it intense would be putting nicely. Less than a month was left before their first match of the year with Slytherin, and indeed, it was all that seemed to be on Angelina's mind. As well as Harry's: they had lost to Slytherin last year. Gryffindor had never been defeated by Slytherin-- the revenge was so real to Harry that he could practically taste it! The first few Quidditch practices had certainly taken Ron by surprise. He was aching and sore and looked a total mess. Harry was unceasingly encouraging to Ron, who looked like he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. The truth was the Gryffindor needed the talent that Ron had. Harry doubted they'd have a successful season without him! Ron seemed to like that, and suddenly he was the one dragging Harry out of bed in the mornings to go to practice! Of course, there was another reason why Harry couldn't wait until the big match. Sophie was going to be there. Hedwig arrived in the dorms with the news a fortnight before Halloween, and Harry let out a shout that Gryffindors running up the stairs to see what was wrong with him! They found a giddy Harry Potter lying flat on his back on the bed, reading Sophie's frilly bright purple writing: Harry: Great news! Dumbledore just sent me an Owl letting me know that everything has been arranged for me to come up and see your match! I couldn't stop squealing-- even when Dad begged me to stop. (Poor Dad, bless him for putting up with me.) I can't help it, I'm just so excited! I'm going to leave from Platform 9 3/4 at six o'clock in the morning and I'll arrive at Hogwarts at two o'clock in the afternoon. He'll have Hagrid waiting at the Platform barrier for me and that's a relief to me because I didn't want to travel alone on the train. I'm re-reading that book you sent me, Quidditch Through The Ages. Oh Harry, the author of that book is absolutely fabulous! Do you know if she's written anything else? It's really helping me to get better acquainted with the rules so I won't be completely lost at the game-- I want to be able to follow it closely enough so that I'll know just how badly you'll be beating Slytherin! Too bad I can't be a beater: I'd love to hit that bludger right smack at Malfoy. Or better still: don't you think that he would make a rather nice bludger himself? My clock is telling me that it's midnight. It's now officially 15th October and I'm counting the minutes until I can see you again: all 24,480 of them! I must get going now-- classes start early tomorrow and I've still to do my homework. (Please don't tell Hermione!) Talk to you soon and see you soon! All my love, Sophie * As was the custom at Hogwarts on Halloween, classes that day were quite painless. Only Snape gave out exams on the holiday (but he would assign homework on your deathbed, so that didn't matter). The rest of the faculty, however, had learned long bedore that exam taking was useless because the students had only one thing on their minds: the banquet! Professor Sinistra had been especially excited about this Halloween in particular because of a most unusual meteor shower that was due to hit at Midnight. She had publicly advertised that all students were welcome to come up to the Astronomy tower to watch. Apparently, Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the only ones who wanted to see it. The whisper all afternoon amongst the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and even Slytherins was about the shower. The banquet, of course, was every bit a decadent as it always was: peppermints, chocolates, truffles, Belgian pralines, jelly beans; tarts of strawberry, orange and meringue; fruit cornucopias with mangos, kiwis, papayas, bananas, oranges, tangerines and pomegranates; enormous roasts of lamb and turkey and dressing and so on and so forth, as far as they eye could see. "What time is Sophie getting here tomorrow?" Hermione asked as she cleaned off her second helping of custard. "I'm so excited!" "How do you think I feel?" said Harry with laugh. "She'll be here at around three o'clock. We'll still all be in class, so I think she's going to have a late lunch with Professor McGonagall and Hagrid until game-time." "And she'll be leaving the next morning?" "Yeah. . ." Harry's smile faltered at the thought of her leaving so soon. "Why doesn't she stay on campus anyway?" asked Seamus. "Oh, well, you know, after her Mum died last year, that left only her and her Dad. Sending her off to school for the entire year would be really hard for him-- he'd have to live without his wife and his daughter. Sophie said that she couldn't possibly leave him alone-- he'd never be able to handle it." "Well," said Ginny, "that's understandable! Good choice, her staying at home." "Yeah," said Harry, "I was really proud of her." (In his innocence, Harry didn't realize the fairly obvious real reason Ginny was happy that Harry's flame wasn't on school grounds. Ron did, however, and he sniggered at her). Harry reached forward to pick a particularly succulent-looking pear from the cornucopia, when Nearly Headless Nick appeared from out of the Gryffindor table's turkey roast. He was wearing his signature plumed hat and ruff and was all smiles. "Good evening all!" he said loudly--the smile audible in his voice. "Hello Nick!" Harry was delighted to see him. "And Happy Bir-- er-- Deathday to you." "Thank you, Mr. Potter," Nick was saying. "And you will never guess what's happened! Oh, it is simply the best Deathday present I've ever had!" He was now hovering above the table, waving a letter in the air. "Listen to this, Harry: To Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington: After careful consideration, your request to join the Headless Hunt has been approved. Due to the fact that your head is not completely severed, however, you will not be able to participate in a select few Club events such as the Headless Lacrosse. But you are eligible to aid in officiating these such events. We look forward to seeing you at our Annual Meeting on the 15th of November at the Headless Hunt Social Lodge in Margate. Yours Most Sincerely, Edgar Hounslow
President of the Headless Hunt and Director of Membership Services." The Gryffindors applauded their House ghost who had longed for this moment since . . . well. . . probably since 1492! "Sir Nicholas," said Hermione, "that's wonderful news!" "I'm glad they finally came around," said Harry. "Actually," said Nicholas, floating high above the table, "Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore was voted out of the Presidency this year! Some scandal to do with fixing the standings in last year's Lacrosse Championship. This new bloke Hounslow- said he didn't see any reason why I shouldn't join!" He was drifting up higher and higher until he finally disappeared right through the enchanted ceiling itself. Ron was grinning wildly. "Well! He's certainly in high spirits tonight, isn't he!" Ron pounded the table with his fist as he laughed, "Get it? High spirits? Get it?" The entire Gryffindor table stared at Ron in disbelief. "Congratulations Ron," said Harry. "You have just delivered the worst joke in the history of wizardkind." There were a surprising number of students from all the Houses who made the long journey up the staircases to the Astronomy Tower that night. Even Draco and friends had decided to grace everyone with their presence. He stood next to the largest window of the cold chamber, arms folded as was his habit and, to complete the Malfoy stance, his nose was upturned. "Hey Potter," he said through a sneer, "are you sure you should be up here in the cold night air? Wouldn't want you to catch a cold now, would we? You can't miss the biggest match of the year!" Crabbe and Goyle grunted happily. "Then again. . . perhaps it would be best. Spare you the shame of losing publicly . . . again." Harry could feel the rage seethe within Ron who was close next to Harry, and the feeling was quite mutual. The rest of the Gryffindors looked to Harry pleadingly and he stepped forward from the crowd. "You only wish that, Malfoy. It would spare you the humility of having-your-ass-kicked." He paused. "As usual." The Gryffindors laughed at Malfoy-- as did a few of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs (who depended on a Gryffindor victory to secure hope for a win of their own). Ron was smiling brilliantly and winked at Harry as if to say 'well done, mate.' Draco pouted and folded his arms again, leaning next to the window. Harry smiled at the realization of how very easy it would be for him to push Malfoy right out that window . . . "Not a cloud in the sky," Professor Sinistra was saying gleefully, not even aware of the disturbance. She had been practically hanging out of the largest window and then quickly ran to a desk to examine parchments with maps of constellations printed on them. "Yes . . . exactly as I've forseen." Harry cringed at that singsong voice and turned to find Professor Trelawney standing behind him. She seemed to acquire more and more jingling, jangling jewelry every year and tonight she was adorned in necklaces of turquoise and was bundled in a matching bright turquoise shawl. Her tarantula eyelashes were grotesquely magnified by her thick spectacles and Harry tried his best not to shudder. "Yes Sibyll," said Professor Sinistra dismissively, "of course." Ron just couldn't help himself. "Was it very beautiful, Professor Trelawney?" "I beg your pardon, Mr Weasley?" "Tonight's meteor showers! Were they very beautiful? I mean, you have already seen them, haven't you?" Harry and Hermione had to do all they could not to burst into laughter. Professor Trelaeney scoweled at Ron. "Just because some of us do possess the sight does not mean that we always choose to utilize it. Some things are better left a mystery." She turned up her nose and went to assist Professor Sinistra. Seamus nudged Ron. "Aye, like how she can keep her head up under the weight of those glasses." The Gryffindors fell into stitches. Lavender, who had always been Trelawney's little disciple, shook her head, "You're horrible, all of you!" Professor Sinistra was scurrying about the chamber frantically and finally called the students to the windows. She glanced at the hourglass on the table and then back up into the endless sackloth black sky. "Now, you second years have just finished taking your exams about that Constellation Leo and that is believed to be the point from with they radiate, hence the name of the meteor shower: the Leonids. The parent comet for this is called Tempel-Tuttle and it makes an appearance in earths' atmosphere once every thirty-three years. Now, as all you students know, comets melt as they get closer to the sun, and as a result dust is released and surrounds the comet's orbit and when our planet passes close enough to that cloud, well, you will see the result of it in just a few minutes. . ." Harry squeezed close against Ron and Hermione to see out of the windows. The night sky looked like an endless blanket of deep blue velvet covered in diamonds. "Oy!" came Seamus' voice, "Weasley! Down in front, will yer? A bit of courtesy for us little blokes!" The students laughed and then. . . It was slow at first, but soon the sky erupted into a dazzling fireworks display. Only they weren't fireworks, they were meteors. Great balls of white, and sometimes red and green, sped across the canvas of the sky-- it looked like the stars were raining down from the heavens! The soundtrack for the next hour was a neverending chorus of "ohhhs" and "ahhhs" and "Great Merlin"! It was just after one am before the show finally started loosing its steam, and the sky began to return to its normal state of tranquility. Professor Sinistra was delighted and really, so were the rest of the students. The huge crowd of mesmerized students were pushing their way out of the chamber, the chatter generally consisting of words like "brilliant" and "wicked" and "bloody fantastic" and the like. Harry was trailing behind Hermione and Ron, the last of the students to leave, and he found himself slowing in his pace. He'd heard something. It sounded like crying from the dark corners of the chamber-- a morose whispering. "Professor Sinistra?" Harry edged into the darkness with uncertainty. "Is that you?" A beam of bright moonlight interrupted the shroud of darkness at the far end of the chamber and Harry could see, not Professor Sinistra, but Professor Trelawney. She sat perfectly still in a chair, silent tears trailing down her face. "Professor Trelawney, are you okay?" He came to her side, but was soon taken aback. She was not looking at him--no, she was looking through him. Her gaze was faraway and her face rigid and inhuman. Harry became panicked-- he'd seen her this way before! The night she'd made that prediction about Lord Voldemort's servant. A prediction that had actually turned out to be right! Harry threw a quick worried look over his shoulder-- everyone had gone. He quickly closed the chamber door and ran to kneel at her side. "Professor? Professor, tell me: what is it you see?" The whimpering grew louder and Harry could see her hands were shaking. In a voice otherworldly and certainly not her own, she answered slowly, "I see . . . death." Harry blanched. "Death?" "Much death . . . much blood . . . I see. . . red . . . red climbing high into the sky. . ." "You see fire?" ". . . the mark of death is everywhere. . . all around us. . ." Harry leaned closer, Professor Trelawney's hands gripping the chair tightly. "Nine times we shall see it . . . nine times shall he strike . . . the ninth will be . . ." Her breathing became heavier. She said nothing at first and then her eyes grew wide with horror. She stared at Harry and then put her hands to her mouth. She let out a scream that shattered the dead silence of the room. Harry grabbed hold of her hand, his heart thumping wildly. "Professor! It's okay! It's me, Harry!" But she was hysterical. Her screaming grew louder and she was queezing Harry's hands until they turned pure white. And then, just as suddenly as she'd erupted into her fit, she stopped and body fell limp into Harry's arms. Her spectacles fell and cracked on the ground revealing a face ghostly pale and not breathing. For one horrible moment, Harry thought the worst. But then he felt her scant breath against him. Harry picked her up like he would have a baby and burst out of the astronomy tower. * Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in the hospital, looking over Professor Trelawney as Madame Pomfrey worked. Ron and Hermione had come looking for Harry when they'd realized he wasn't with them and were horrified at the sight of the unconscious Professor in Harry's arms. "Will she be all right?" Harry asked. Professor Trelawney looked like an open-eyed corpse. Madame Pomfrey wasn't smiling. "She will, yes, but it will take time. She's in shock. What did you say happened?" "She . . . she made a prediction." Madame Pomfrey paused and looked at Harry as if to say 'you must be joking.' "No, I'm serious! She was sitting in a chair and suddenly, this . . . this shadow came over her. . . it was really scary!" Pomfrey went back to her vials and potions. "Well, if she did have a vision then it certainly must have been something terrible. I haven't seen a case like this in quite some time." "It was awful. She was screaming and shaking--Iwas scared." "Well, you've done all you can, Mr. Potter. I'll see to it you're awarded ten points for Gryffindor. I'll see to Sybill from here on-you had best get back to your dorms. Isn't your match against Slytherin tomorrow?" "Today," said Ron. "It's after one am. Goodnight, Madame Pomfrey." The trio left the hospital and trudged back towards Gryffindor tower. "Right, so what did she say?" Hermione demanded as they climbed the staircases. "Well it was all very cryptic. She kept saying that the mark of death was everywhere. . ." "The dark mark?" said Ron, looking quite alarmed. "Well, what else could it be? I'm sure that's what she meant. She said that there would be much blood and death and that he would strike nine times." "Nine?" Ron repeated, "You're joking!" Harry shook his head solemnly. "Nine attacks . . . bloody hell. All of those innocent people. . ." "That's if she's right, Ron," said Hermione. "Remember? Everyone knows that she's a fraud. You too, Harry." "Hermione," said Harry, "you don't remember about Voldemort's servant?" Hermione grew quiet. Harry knew he'd made his point. "Well," she said slowly, "her track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence, right? She's predicted your death every year since you were thirteen." But even Hermione didn't sound convinced as she spoke. "Come on," said Ron. "Bloody big day ahead. 'Night, 'Mione." "G'night Ron," she said with a kiss on his cheek. "G'night Harry," she said, giving him a tight hug. "You three need your sleep." But Harry couldn't sleep. He hardly slept a wink that night. How could he after the dizzying merry-go-round of the past few weeks? Even for Harry Potter, things had been intense. He lay in bed, eyes staring upwards into that odd early morning darkness that so easily plays tricks on the restless mind. His thoughts were so vivid and intense it was almost as though his was watching them unfold on the black canvas around him. Sirius-- his beloved Sirius-- the pain that had been in his crystal blue eyes that dreadful day-- eyes that had seen such horror and suffering in their life. In his mind's eye, Sirius changed into Arabella and then there was Sophie. Sophie. His thoughts lingered here the longest, trying desperately to remember every wave of her hair, the softness of her smile, and every tingle that shot through his body whenever her delicate fingers touched him. . . And then, without warning, there was Malfoy. He felt much the way Arabella had about Riddle: he'd been wrong about him. The more Harry tried to get rid of Malfoy, and think back to Sophie, the more Malfoy lingered in his mind. How defiant he was-- how stubbornly determined to prove Harry wrong. In honesty, Harry dearly wished he had pushed him out of the astronomy tower window! Nothing could possily console Harry other than to kill him with his own bare hands. Or perhaps beat him at Quidditch. Yes . . . that would be just as good . . . Even better. . .
Harry "Wait Hedwig, I'm gonna give you a big job to do tonight." Harry pulled out two more parchments and addressed one to Dudley and one to Sophie. Harry knew that Dudley was going to be every bit as shocked about the revelation as Harry had been-- it would give the two something to talk about, and Harry was grateful to be able to talk about anything with Dudley. And Sophie. . . well, Sophie was the one person who just seemed to understand whatever Harry was feeling more than anyone else he'd ever known. * Dumbledore was beaming the next morning when he spied Harry walk into the great hall for breakfast. Harry folded his arms as Dumbledore flowed towards him and pretended to look cross. "You know, you could have told me about Mrs. Figg!" "And where would the fun in that have been?" He winked at Harry from overtop his spectacles and Harry couldn't help but let out a smile. Dumbledore's voice was decidedly quieter now, but his demeanor remained the same. "Your . . . Godfather has written you, I trust?" Harry nodded. "Excellent. Fudge has been much more . . . cooperative lately. He was not entirely keen on the idea of your Godfather and Mr. Lupin staying together, but I convinced him it would be much better for the ministry in the long run," Dumbledore's voice dropped to a hush, "the Black case is the last thing the Ministry should be worrying about at this point." Harry couldn't agree more and told Dumbledore so. Professor Dumbledore nodded and departed regally, and Harry met up with Ron and Hermione at the breakfast table. No sooner had he sat down that Hermione popped up out of her seat. "Sorry you lot, there's a prefect meeting before class up in McGonagall's office!" She straightened her robe and Dean was doing the same. "See you all in class!" she said with a smile, kissed Ron quickly on the cheek. "C'mon Dean, we'll be late!" Dean jumped up and threw his napkin on the table and then the two flurried off down the hall. Ron was staring after them, not looking entirely thrilled. Harry nudged his shoulder, "oh come on mate, I know what you're thinking and you'd better stop it right now." Ron shook his head and returned to his bowl of porridge. Come lunchtime he was in decidedly higher spirits as Hermione didn't have to run off to any urgent meetings during the break. The general buzz at the table was, of course, about Professor Figg. The general concensus was that she was a capable Professor, nothing to complain about, but next to Black, anything was bound to pale. "Mail for you, Harry," said Ron dutifully as they finished their lunch. Harry was ecstatic to find that Sophie's response to his letter from the previous night-- Wow, her Owl must be an incredible flyer! Harry: I am in a state of shock! I simply cannot believe everything that has happened in two days. I wish against wish that I could be there with you right this very second. What Malfoy has done is unthinkable-- even for being a Malfoy, that was stooping to an unexplored level of seediness. How could you not love this girl? I know that Sirius will be all right-- he always has been and always will be. And besides, Harry, even if he's not physically right there with you, his love is. Just like me. I'm hoping you knew that. Write back soon. All my love, Sophie To the great glee of Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter was turning fuschia. "Whoa! What, did she ask you to marry her or something?" he laughed, peering over Harry's shoulder nosily. Harry folded up the letter and slipped it into his satchel. "How about you keep your nose in your kippers, ok mate?" "Oh now that's just not fair, I would have let you read it if it were mine!" "But it's not yours, so that settles it." Harry and Ron bickered all the way up to the second floor for their concentration course A Study in Reason. After everything that Mrs. Figg had told him last night, perhaps it was only fitting that she should teach A Study in Reason-- after all, she propbably knew more about the reason behind bad wizards than anyone else! While we are on the subject of classes, for Harry and Hermione, every second Sunday was fast becoming their favorite day of the week. They were deeply engrossed in their studies, although they were fast becoming unrelentlessly laborious. The class had started off easily enough, learning the basic concepts of Apparition, but it soon evolved into a detailed study in human form and anatomy-- a subject Harry didn't exactly excel in. And, as Warwick pointed out repeatedly, it was essential to master a thorough knowledge of anatomy and human form as this was key to successful apparition. But, in all honesty, the real reason Harry found himself looking forward to the ministry classes is b excuse it afforded him the opportunity to see Sophie again. She lived about twenty minutes away from the Ministry, so when she heard about their classes, she was insistent that she meet up with them for lunch during their breaks. Seeing her once every two weeks was fantastic-- but murderous at the same time. Harry found himself aching for her when they were apart. Missing the touch of her hand on his shoulder, or the warmth of her dimpled smile. Harry's stomach would churn with excitement all throughout class, hardly able to stand the wait until lunchtime. Hermione told him that she thought it was just about the sweetest thing she'd ever seen: Harry turned pink everytime he saw her. "That's a good thing," she'd said supportively. "Girls like seeing things like that. I never know if I have that effect on Ron-- he's always pink!" And then, of course, there was Dudley. Harry had asked Professor Warwick if Muggles were allowed into the Ministry. She'd been a bit hesitant but then informed him yes, they were, as there were the occasional mandatory meetings with the Muggle Prime Minister. And when he asked Warwick if she thought his cousin Dudley could join them for lunch she looked very apprehensive. But to his surprise, she let him know that her superiors informed her it would be quite all right since he was a family member. Harry asked Dudley to come and have lunch with them on Sundays, and he'd really expected a flat refusal, but to his surprise and delight, Dudley accepted! The Ministry of Magic had a lovely half-timbered restaurant in the Ministry Gardens and since students weren't allowed off the premises, Sophie and Dudley came to visit them. Sophie and Dudley looked visibly awed by the Ministry and Harry made the necessary introductions to Professor McGonagall whom, Harry noticed, kept a cold front towards Dudley. "Isn't it unbelievable, Dudley? About Mrs. Figg?" Dudley had been staring with his mouth open at the restaurant and was pulled to attention. "I finally told Mum." "And?" "Oh you can imagine how thrilled she was." Dudley smiled. That smile was a ray of sunshine to Harry-it gave him hope that perhaps things were going to return to normal. Professor McGonagall sat back in her chair. "Do either of you lads remember her cats?" "Who doesn't," said Dudley. Harry's mouth fell, remembering all of them: Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws and Tufty! "You were one of them?" Minerva winked. "It was my duty to check up on Arabella on a regular basis. I'll never forgive Arabella for calling me 'Tufty.' She always laughed at my animagus, saying I made the mangiest looking cat she'd ever seen." She turned to Dudley, "I certainly remember you, Mr. Dursley." Dudley nodded. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot these days." "I was visiting Arabella at Magnolia Crescent one day to find her limping about on crutches because you had apparently knocked her over?" Dudley shook his head, "No, she already had her crutches! She was crossing the street and then I knocked her over." "Ah, my mistake. She'd fallen over one of her cats-- Mr. Paws, I think. She was most upset about it because while she lived at Magnolia Crescent she was not permitted to use magic-- couldn't even mend her poor leg." "People change, Professor McGonagall," said Sophie proudly, "and Dudley is a wonderful bloke," Dudley's smile vanished when she said that. Harry grew alarmed--he could see that strange aridness return to Dudley almost immediately. Harry's bright glimmer of hope faded as the conversation continued. Dudley relapsed back into his former habit of not giving Harry any eye contact and focusing his conversation solely on Hermione and Minerva. Harry felt defeated. Their hour passed much too quickly and they were making their way out of the restaurant and down the main entrance, saying goodbye to Sophie and Dudley. Sophie shook hands with Minerva who told her to give her father her regards. "I will. Dad was rather reluctant about letting us out on the street-- this place looks like a nuclear factory from the outside! Wait till I tell him how beautiful is!" "Sophie, first Quidditch match of the season is the day after Halloween. You said you wanted to come to a game this year, didn't you?" Sophie clasped her hands together. "Brilliant! How fantastic! Professor McGonagall--" "I'll see to it that Professor Dumbledore arranges it for you, Miss Banbury." Sophie was thrilled and landed Harry with a bear hug that sent Harry's senses into overload. As she pressed her body close against his, her lips brushed the edge of his ear. "I'll be counting the days." Her words played around in his ears, leaving him sweetly intoxicated. "Coming home for Christmas, cousin?" Dudley's arms were folded and he stood next to Hermione, his face revealing neither happiness nor anger. "Of course," Harry answered immediately. "Without a doubt!" Dudley nodded, still betraying no emotion. "Right. See you soon, then." "See you soon, Dudley." His voice was wistful as he watched Dudley turn and follow Sophie out back onto the main street. "Well!" said Professor McGonagall, "I must say, I'm most impressed with the young Dursley! I was certain that with parents as unforgiveably wretched as his, there would be no hope for his turning out as well as he has!" Harry nodded and then added, quietly, "Yeah. . . he's become one of my best friends." * Quidditch practice had been at half past six in the morning as usual, and to call it intense would be putting nicely. Less than a month was left before their first match of the year with Slytherin, and indeed, it was all that seemed to be on Angelina's mind. As well as Harry's: they had lost to Slytherin last year. Gryffindor had never been defeated by Slytherin-- the revenge was so real to Harry that he could practically taste it! The first few Quidditch practices had certainly taken Ron by surprise. He was aching and sore and looked a total mess. Harry was unceasingly encouraging to Ron, who looked like he was having second thoughts about the whole thing. The truth was the Gryffindor needed the talent that Ron had. Harry doubted they'd have a successful season without him! Ron seemed to like that, and suddenly he was the one dragging Harry out of bed in the mornings to go to practice! Of course, there was another reason why Harry couldn't wait until the big match. Sophie was going to be there. Hedwig arrived in the dorms with the news a fortnight before Halloween, and Harry let out a shout that Gryffindors running up the stairs to see what was wrong with him! They found a giddy Harry Potter lying flat on his back on the bed, reading Sophie's frilly bright purple writing: Harry: Great news! Dumbledore just sent me an Owl letting me know that everything has been arranged for me to come up and see your match! I couldn't stop squealing-- even when Dad begged me to stop. (Poor Dad, bless him for putting up with me.) I can't help it, I'm just so excited! I'm going to leave from Platform 9 3/4 at six o'clock in the morning and I'll arrive at Hogwarts at two o'clock in the afternoon. He'll have Hagrid waiting at the Platform barrier for me and that's a relief to me because I didn't want to travel alone on the train. I'm re-reading that book you sent me, Quidditch Through The Ages. Oh Harry, the author of that book is absolutely fabulous! Do you know if she's written anything else? It's really helping me to get better acquainted with the rules so I won't be completely lost at the game-- I want to be able to follow it closely enough so that I'll know just how badly you'll be beating Slytherin! Too bad I can't be a beater: I'd love to hit that bludger right smack at Malfoy. Or better still: don't you think that he would make a rather nice bludger himself? My clock is telling me that it's midnight. It's now officially 15th October and I'm counting the minutes until I can see you again: all 24,480 of them! I must get going now-- classes start early tomorrow and I've still to do my homework. (Please don't tell Hermione!) Talk to you soon and see you soon! All my love, Sophie * As was the custom at Hogwarts on Halloween, classes that day were quite painless. Only Snape gave out exams on the holiday (but he would assign homework on your deathbed, so that didn't matter). The rest of the faculty, however, had learned long bedore that exam taking was useless because the students had only one thing on their minds: the banquet! Professor Sinistra had been especially excited about this Halloween in particular because of a most unusual meteor shower that was due to hit at Midnight. She had publicly advertised that all students were welcome to come up to the Astronomy tower to watch. Apparently, Harry, Ron and Hermione weren't the only ones who wanted to see it. The whisper all afternoon amongst the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws and even Slytherins was about the shower. The banquet, of course, was every bit a decadent as it always was: peppermints, chocolates, truffles, Belgian pralines, jelly beans; tarts of strawberry, orange and meringue; fruit cornucopias with mangos, kiwis, papayas, bananas, oranges, tangerines and pomegranates; enormous roasts of lamb and turkey and dressing and so on and so forth, as far as they eye could see. "What time is Sophie getting here tomorrow?" Hermione asked as she cleaned off her second helping of custard. "I'm so excited!" "How do you think I feel?" said Harry with laugh. "She'll be here at around three o'clock. We'll still all be in class, so I think she's going to have a late lunch with Professor McGonagall and Hagrid until game-time." "And she'll be leaving the next morning?" "Yeah. . ." Harry's smile faltered at the thought of her leaving so soon. "Why doesn't she stay on campus anyway?" asked Seamus. "Oh, well, you know, after her Mum died last year, that left only her and her Dad. Sending her off to school for the entire year would be really hard for him-- he'd have to live without his wife and his daughter. Sophie said that she couldn't possibly leave him alone-- he'd never be able to handle it." "Well," said Ginny, "that's understandable! Good choice, her staying at home." "Yeah," said Harry, "I was really proud of her." (In his innocence, Harry didn't realize the fairly obvious real reason Ginny was happy that Harry's flame wasn't on school grounds. Ron did, however, and he sniggered at her). Harry reached forward to pick a particularly succulent-looking pear from the cornucopia, when Nearly Headless Nick appeared from out of the Gryffindor table's turkey roast. He was wearing his signature plumed hat and ruff and was all smiles. "Good evening all!" he said loudly--the smile audible in his voice. "Hello Nick!" Harry was delighted to see him. "And Happy Bir-- er-- Deathday to you." "Thank you, Mr. Potter," Nick was saying. "And you will never guess what's happened! Oh, it is simply the best Deathday present I've ever had!" He was now hovering above the table, waving a letter in the air. "Listen to this, Harry: To Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington: After careful consideration, your request to join the Headless Hunt has been approved. Due to the fact that your head is not completely severed, however, you will not be able to participate in a select few Club events such as the Headless Lacrosse. But you are eligible to aid in officiating these such events. We look forward to seeing you at our Annual Meeting on the 15th of November at the Headless Hunt Social Lodge in Margate. Yours Most Sincerely, Edgar Hounslow
President of the Headless Hunt and Director of Membership Services." The Gryffindors applauded their House ghost who had longed for this moment since . . . well. . . probably since 1492! "Sir Nicholas," said Hermione, "that's wonderful news!" "I'm glad they finally came around," said Harry. "Actually," said Nicholas, floating high above the table, "Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore was voted out of the Presidency this year! Some scandal to do with fixing the standings in last year's Lacrosse Championship. This new bloke Hounslow- said he didn't see any reason why I shouldn't join!" He was drifting up higher and higher until he finally disappeared right through the enchanted ceiling itself. Ron was grinning wildly. "Well! He's certainly in high spirits tonight, isn't he!" Ron pounded the table with his fist as he laughed, "Get it? High spirits? Get it?" The entire Gryffindor table stared at Ron in disbelief. "Congratulations Ron," said Harry. "You have just delivered the worst joke in the history of wizardkind." There were a surprising number of students from all the Houses who made the long journey up the staircases to the Astronomy Tower that night. Even Draco and friends had decided to grace everyone with their presence. He stood next to the largest window of the cold chamber, arms folded as was his habit and, to complete the Malfoy stance, his nose was upturned. "Hey Potter," he said through a sneer, "are you sure you should be up here in the cold night air? Wouldn't want you to catch a cold now, would we? You can't miss the biggest match of the year!" Crabbe and Goyle grunted happily. "Then again. . . perhaps it would be best. Spare you the shame of losing publicly . . . again." Harry could feel the rage seethe within Ron who was close next to Harry, and the feeling was quite mutual. The rest of the Gryffindors looked to Harry pleadingly and he stepped forward from the crowd. "You only wish that, Malfoy. It would spare you the humility of having-your-ass-kicked." He paused. "As usual." The Gryffindors laughed at Malfoy-- as did a few of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs (who depended on a Gryffindor victory to secure hope for a win of their own). Ron was smiling brilliantly and winked at Harry as if to say 'well done, mate.' Draco pouted and folded his arms again, leaning next to the window. Harry smiled at the realization of how very easy it would be for him to push Malfoy right out that window . . . "Not a cloud in the sky," Professor Sinistra was saying gleefully, not even aware of the disturbance. She had been practically hanging out of the largest window and then quickly ran to a desk to examine parchments with maps of constellations printed on them. "Yes . . . exactly as I've forseen." Harry cringed at that singsong voice and turned to find Professor Trelawney standing behind him. She seemed to acquire more and more jingling, jangling jewelry every year and tonight she was adorned in necklaces of turquoise and was bundled in a matching bright turquoise shawl. Her tarantula eyelashes were grotesquely magnified by her thick spectacles and Harry tried his best not to shudder. "Yes Sibyll," said Professor Sinistra dismissively, "of course." Ron just couldn't help himself. "Was it very beautiful, Professor Trelawney?" "I beg your pardon, Mr Weasley?" "Tonight's meteor showers! Were they very beautiful? I mean, you have already seen them, haven't you?" Harry and Hermione had to do all they could not to burst into laughter. Professor Trelaeney scoweled at Ron. "Just because some of us do possess the sight does not mean that we always choose to utilize it. Some things are better left a mystery." She turned up her nose and went to assist Professor Sinistra. Seamus nudged Ron. "Aye, like how she can keep her head up under the weight of those glasses." The Gryffindors fell into stitches. Lavender, who had always been Trelawney's little disciple, shook her head, "You're horrible, all of you!" Professor Sinistra was scurrying about the chamber frantically and finally called the students to the windows. She glanced at the hourglass on the table and then back up into the endless sackloth black sky. "Now, you second years have just finished taking your exams about that Constellation Leo and that is believed to be the point from with they radiate, hence the name of the meteor shower: the Leonids. The parent comet for this is called Tempel-Tuttle and it makes an appearance in earths' atmosphere once every thirty-three years. Now, as all you students know, comets melt as they get closer to the sun, and as a result dust is released and surrounds the comet's orbit and when our planet passes close enough to that cloud, well, you will see the result of it in just a few minutes. . ." Harry squeezed close against Ron and Hermione to see out of the windows. The night sky looked like an endless blanket of deep blue velvet covered in diamonds. "Oy!" came Seamus' voice, "Weasley! Down in front, will yer? A bit of courtesy for us little blokes!" The students laughed and then. . . It was slow at first, but soon the sky erupted into a dazzling fireworks display. Only they weren't fireworks, they were meteors. Great balls of white, and sometimes red and green, sped across the canvas of the sky-- it looked like the stars were raining down from the heavens! The soundtrack for the next hour was a neverending chorus of "ohhhs" and "ahhhs" and "Great Merlin"! It was just after one am before the show finally started loosing its steam, and the sky began to return to its normal state of tranquility. Professor Sinistra was delighted and really, so were the rest of the students. The huge crowd of mesmerized students were pushing their way out of the chamber, the chatter generally consisting of words like "brilliant" and "wicked" and "bloody fantastic" and the like. Harry was trailing behind Hermione and Ron, the last of the students to leave, and he found himself slowing in his pace. He'd heard something. It sounded like crying from the dark corners of the chamber-- a morose whispering. "Professor Sinistra?" Harry edged into the darkness with uncertainty. "Is that you?" A beam of bright moonlight interrupted the shroud of darkness at the far end of the chamber and Harry could see, not Professor Sinistra, but Professor Trelawney. She sat perfectly still in a chair, silent tears trailing down her face. "Professor Trelawney, are you okay?" He came to her side, but was soon taken aback. She was not looking at him--no, she was looking through him. Her gaze was faraway and her face rigid and inhuman. Harry became panicked-- he'd seen her this way before! The night she'd made that prediction about Lord Voldemort's servant. A prediction that had actually turned out to be right! Harry threw a quick worried look over his shoulder-- everyone had gone. He quickly closed the chamber door and ran to kneel at her side. "Professor? Professor, tell me: what is it you see?" The whimpering grew louder and Harry could see her hands were shaking. In a voice otherworldly and certainly not her own, she answered slowly, "I see . . . death." Harry blanched. "Death?" "Much death . . . much blood . . . I see. . . red . . . red climbing high into the sky. . ." "You see fire?" ". . . the mark of death is everywhere. . . all around us. . ." Harry leaned closer, Professor Trelawney's hands gripping the chair tightly. "Nine times we shall see it . . . nine times shall he strike . . . the ninth will be . . ." Her breathing became heavier. She said nothing at first and then her eyes grew wide with horror. She stared at Harry and then put her hands to her mouth. She let out a scream that shattered the dead silence of the room. Harry grabbed hold of her hand, his heart thumping wildly. "Professor! It's okay! It's me, Harry!" But she was hysterical. Her screaming grew louder and she was queezing Harry's hands until they turned pure white. And then, just as suddenly as she'd erupted into her fit, she stopped and body fell limp into Harry's arms. Her spectacles fell and cracked on the ground revealing a face ghostly pale and not breathing. For one horrible moment, Harry thought the worst. But then he felt her scant breath against him. Harry picked her up like he would have a baby and burst out of the astronomy tower. * Harry, Ron and Hermione stood in the hospital, looking over Professor Trelawney as Madame Pomfrey worked. Ron and Hermione had come looking for Harry when they'd realized he wasn't with them and were horrified at the sight of the unconscious Professor in Harry's arms. "Will she be all right?" Harry asked. Professor Trelawney looked like an open-eyed corpse. Madame Pomfrey wasn't smiling. "She will, yes, but it will take time. She's in shock. What did you say happened?" "She . . . she made a prediction." Madame Pomfrey paused and looked at Harry as if to say 'you must be joking.' "No, I'm serious! She was sitting in a chair and suddenly, this . . . this shadow came over her. . . it was really scary!" Pomfrey went back to her vials and potions. "Well, if she did have a vision then it certainly must have been something terrible. I haven't seen a case like this in quite some time." "It was awful. She was screaming and shaking--Iwas scared." "Well, you've done all you can, Mr. Potter. I'll see to it you're awarded ten points for Gryffindor. I'll see to Sybill from here on-you had best get back to your dorms. Isn't your match against Slytherin tomorrow?" "Today," said Ron. "It's after one am. Goodnight, Madame Pomfrey." The trio left the hospital and trudged back towards Gryffindor tower. "Right, so what did she say?" Hermione demanded as they climbed the staircases. "Well it was all very cryptic. She kept saying that the mark of death was everywhere. . ." "The dark mark?" said Ron, looking quite alarmed. "Well, what else could it be? I'm sure that's what she meant. She said that there would be much blood and death and that he would strike nine times." "Nine?" Ron repeated, "You're joking!" Harry shook his head solemnly. "Nine attacks . . . bloody hell. All of those innocent people. . ." "That's if she's right, Ron," said Hermione. "Remember? Everyone knows that she's a fraud. You too, Harry." "Hermione," said Harry, "you don't remember about Voldemort's servant?" Hermione grew quiet. Harry knew he'd made his point. "Well," she said slowly, "her track record doesn't exactly inspire confidence, right? She's predicted your death every year since you were thirteen." But even Hermione didn't sound convinced as she spoke. "Come on," said Ron. "Bloody big day ahead. 'Night, 'Mione." "G'night Ron," she said with a kiss on his cheek. "G'night Harry," she said, giving him a tight hug. "You three need your sleep." But Harry couldn't sleep. He hardly slept a wink that night. How could he after the dizzying merry-go-round of the past few weeks? Even for Harry Potter, things had been intense. He lay in bed, eyes staring upwards into that odd early morning darkness that so easily plays tricks on the restless mind. His thoughts were so vivid and intense it was almost as though his was watching them unfold on the black canvas around him. Sirius-- his beloved Sirius-- the pain that had been in his crystal blue eyes that dreadful day-- eyes that had seen such horror and suffering in their life. In his mind's eye, Sirius changed into Arabella and then there was Sophie. Sophie. His thoughts lingered here the longest, trying desperately to remember every wave of her hair, the softness of her smile, and every tingle that shot through his body whenever her delicate fingers touched him. . . And then, without warning, there was Malfoy. He felt much the way Arabella had about Riddle: he'd been wrong about him. The more Harry tried to get rid of Malfoy, and think back to Sophie, the more Malfoy lingered in his mind. How defiant he was-- how stubbornly determined to prove Harry wrong. In honesty, Harry dearly wished he had pushed him out of the astronomy tower window! Nothing could possily console Harry other than to kill him with his own bare hands. Or perhaps beat him at Quidditch. Yes . . . that would be just as good . . . Even better. . .