Harry felt happier for the rest of the weekend than he had done all term. He and Ron spent much of Sunday catching up with all their homework again, and although this could hardly be called fun, the last burst of autumn sunshine persisted, so rather than sitting hunched over tables in the common room they took their work outside and lounged in the shade of a large beech tree on the edge of the lake. Hermione, who of course was up to date with all her work, brought more wool outside with her and bewitched her knitting needles so that they flashed and clicked in midair beside her, producing more hats and scarves.
Knowing they were doing something to resist Umbridge and the Ministry and that he was a key part of the rebellion, gave Harry a feeling of immense satisfaction. He kept reliving Saturdays meeting in his mind: all those people, coming to him to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts ... and the looks on their faces as they had heard some of the things he had done ... and Cho praising his performance in the Triwizard Tournament—knowing all those people did not think him a lying weirdo, but someone to be admired, buoyed him up so much that he was still cheerful on Monday morning, despite the imminent prospect of all his least favourite classes.
He and Ron headed downstairs from their dormitory, discussing Angelina's idea that they were to work on a new move called the Sloth Grip Roll during that nights Quidditch practice, and not until they were halfway across the sunlit common room did they notice the addition to the room that had already attracted the attention of a small group of people.
A large sign had been affixed to the Grffindor noticeboard, so large it covered everything else on it—the lists of secondhand spellbooks for sale, the regular reminders of school rules from Argus Filch, the Quidditch team training timetable, the offers to barter certain Chocolate Frog Cards for others, the Weasleys’ latest advertisement for testers, the dates of the Hogsmeade weekends and the lost and found notices. The new sign was printed in large black letters and there was a highly official-looking seal at the bottom beside a neat and curly signature.
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are
henceforth disbanded.
An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined
as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor
(Professor Umbridge).
No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist
without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation,
society, team, group or club that has not been approved by
the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree
Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
Harry and Ron read the notice over the heads of some anxious-looking second-years.
‘Does this mean they're going to shut down the Gobstones Club?’ one of them asked his friend.
‘I reckon you'll be OK with Gobstones,’ Ron said darkly, making the second-year jump. ‘I don't think we're going to be as lucky, though, do you?’ he asked Harry as the second-years hurried away.
Harry was reading the notice through again. The happiness that had filled him since Saturday was gone. His insides were pulsing with rage.
‘This isn't a coincidence,’ he said, his hands forming fists. ‘She knows.’
‘She can't,’ said Ron at once.
‘There were people listening in that pub. And let's face it, we don't know how many of the people who turned up we can trust ... any of them could have run off and told Umbridge ...’
And he had thought they believed him, thought they even admired him ...
‘Zacharias Smith!’ said Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand. ‘Or—I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look, too—’
‘I wonder if Hermione's seen this yet?’ Harry said, looking round at the door to the girls’ dormitories.
‘Let's go and tell her,’ said Ron. He bounded forwards, pulled open the door and set off up the spiral staircase.
He was on the sixth stair when there was a loud, wailing, klaxon-like sound and the steps melted together to make a long, smooth stone slide like a helter-skelter. There was a brief moment when Ron tried to keep running, arms working madly like windmills, then he toppled over backwards and shot down the newly created slide, coming to rest on his back at Harry's feet.
‘Er—I don't think we're allowed in the girls’ dormitories,’ said Harry, pulling Ron to his feet and trying not to laugh.
Two fourth-year girls came zooming gleefully down the stone slide.
‘Oooh. who tried to get upstairs?’ they giggled happily, leaping to their feet and ogling Harry and Ron.
‘Me,’ said Ron, who was still rather dishevelled. ‘I didn't realise that would happen. It's not fair!’ he added to Harry, as the girls headed off for the portrait hole, still giggling madly. ‘Hermione's allowed in our dormitory, how come we're not allowed —?’
‘Well, it's an old-fashioned rule,’ said Hermione, who had just slid neatly on to a rug in front of them and was now getting to her feet, ‘but it says in Hogwarts: A History, that the founders thought boys were less trustworthy than girls. Anyway, why were you trying to get in there?’
‘To see you—look at this!’ said Ron, dragging her over to the noticeboard.
Hermione's eyes slid rapidly down the notice. Her expression became stony.
‘Someone must have blabbed to her!’ Ron said angrily.
‘They can't have done,’ said Hermione in a low voice.
‘You're so naive,’ said Ron, ‘you think just because you're all honourable and trustworthy —’
‘No, they can't have done, because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed,’ said Hermione grimly. ‘Believe me, if anyone's run off and told Umbridge, we'll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it.’
‘What'll happen to them?’ said Ron eagerly.
‘Well, put it this way,’ said Hermione, ‘it'll make Eloise Midgeon's acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let's get down to breakfast and see what the others think ... I wonder whether this has been put up in all the houses?’
It was immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge's sign had not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There was a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurried up and down their tables conferring on what they had read. Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely taken their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny descended upon them.
‘Did you see it?’
‘D'you reckon she knows?’
‘What are we going to do?’
They were all looking at Harry. He glanced around to make sure there were no teachers near them.
‘We're going to do it anyway, of course,’ he said quietly.
‘Knew you'd say that,’ said George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
‘The prefects as well?’ said Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione.
‘Of course,’ said Hermione coolly.
‘Here come Ernie and Hannah Abbott,’ said Ron, looking over his shoulder. ‘And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith ... and no one looks very spotty.’
Hermione looked alarmed.
‘Never mind spots, the idiots can't come over here now, it'll look really suspicious—sit down!’ she mouthed to Ernie and Hannah, gesturing frantically to them to rejoin the Hufflepuff table. ‘Later! We'll—talk—to—you—later!’
‘I'll tell Michael,’ said Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off her bench, ‘the fool, honestly ...’
She hurried off towards the Ravenclaw table; Harry watched her go. Cho was sitting not far away, talking to the curly-haired friend she had brought along to the Hog's Head. Would Umbridge's notice scare her off meeting them again?
But the full repercussions of the sign were not felt until they were leaving the Great Hall for History of Magic.
‘Harry! Ron!’
It was Angelina and she was hurrying towards them looking perfectly desperate.
‘It's OK,’ said Harry quietly, when she was near enough to hear him. ‘We're still going to—’
‘You realise she's including Quidditch in this?’ Angelina said over him. ‘We have to go and ask permission to re-form the Gryffindor team!’
‘What?’ said Harry.
‘No way,’ said Ron, appalled.
‘You read the sign, it mentions teams too! So listen, Harry ... I am saying this for the last time ... please, please don't lose your temper with Umbridge again or she might not let us play any more!’
‘OK, OK,’ said Harry, for Angelina looked as though she was on the verge of tears. ‘Don't worry, I'll behave myself ...’
‘Bet Umbridge is in History of Magic,’ said Ron grimly, as they set off for Binns's lesson. ‘She hasn't inspected Binns yet ... bet you anything she's there ...’
But he was wrong; the only teacher present when they entered was Professor Binns, floating an inch or so above his chair as usual and preparing to continue his monotonous drone on giant wars. Harry did not even attempt to follow what he was saying today; he doodled idly on his parchment ignoring Hermione's frequent glares and nudges, until a particularly painful poke in the ribs made him look up angrily.
‘What?’
She pointed at the window. Harry looked round. Hedwig was perched on the narrow window ledge, gazing through the thick glass at him, a letter tied to her leg. Harry could not understand it; they had just had breakfast, why on earth hadn't she delivered the letter then, as usual? Many of his classmates were pointing out Hedwig to each other, too.
‘Oh, I've always loved that owl, she's so beautiful,’ Harry heard Lavender sigh to Parvati.
He glanced round at Professor Binns who continued to read his notes, serenely unaware that the class's attention was even less focused upon him than usual. Harry slipped quietly off his chair, crouched down and hurried along the row to the window, where he slid the catch and opened it very slowly.
He had expected Hedwig to hold out her leg so that he could remove the letter and then fly off to the Owlery, but the moment the window was open wide enough she hopped inside, hooting dolefully. He closed the window with an anxious glance at Professor Binns, crouched low again and sped back to his seat with Hedwig on his shoulder. He regained his seat, transferred Hedwig to his lap and made to remove the letter tied to her leg.
Only then did he realise that Hedwig's feathers were oddly ruffled; some were bent the wrong way, and she was holding one of her wings at an odd angle.
‘She's hurt!’ Harry whispered, bending his head low over her. Hermione and Ron leaned in closer; Hermione even put down her quill. ‘Look—there's something wrong with her wing—’
Hedwig was quivering; when Harry made to touch the wing she gave a little jump, all her feathers on end as though she was inflating herself, and gazed at him reproachfully.
‘Professor Binns,’ said Harry loudly, and everyone in the class turned to look at him. ‘I'm not feeling well.’
Professor Binns raised his eyes from his notes, looking amazed, as always, to find the room in front of him full of people.
‘Not feeling well?’ he repeated hazily.
‘Not at all well,’ said Harry firmly, getting to his feet with Hedwig concealed behind his back. ‘I think I need to go to the hospital wing.’
‘Yes,’ said Professor Binns, clearly very much wrong-footed. ‘Yes ... yes, hospital wing ... well, off you go, then, Perkins ...’
Once outside the room, Harry returned Hedwig to his shoulder and hurried off up the corridor, pausing to think only when he was out of sight of Binns's door. His first choice of somebody to cure Hedwig would have been Hagrid, of course, but as he had no idea where Hagrid was his only remaining option was to find Professor Grubbly-Plank and hope she would help.
He peered out of a window at the blustery, overcast grounds. There was no sign of her anywhere near Hagrid's cabin; if she was not teaching, she was probably in the staff room. He set off downstairs, Hedwig hooting feebly as she swayed on his shoulder.
Two stone gargoyles flanked the staff-room door. As Harry approached, one of them croaked, ‘You should be in class, Sonny Jim.’
‘This is urgent,’ said Harry curtly.
‘Ooooh, urgent, is it?’ said the other gargoyle in a high-pitched voice. ‘Well, that's put us in our place, hasn't it?’
Harry knocked. He heard footsteps, then the door opened and he found himself face to face with Professor McGonagall.
‘You haven't been given another detention!’ she said at once, her square spectacles flashing alarmingly.
‘No, Professor!’ said Harry hastily.
‘Well then, why are you out of class?’
‘It's urgent, apparently,’ said the second gargoyle snidely.
‘I'm looking for Professor Grubbly-Plank,’ Harry explained. ‘It's my owl, she's injured.’
‘Injured owl, did you say?’
Professor Grubbly-Plank appeared at Professor McGonagall's shoulder, smoking a pipe and holding a copy of the Daily Prophet.
‘Yes,’ said Harry, lifting Hedwig carefully off his shoulder, ‘she turned up after the other post owls and her wing's all funny, look—’
Professor Grubbly-Plank stuck her pipe firmly between her teeth and took Hedwig from Harry while Professor McGonagall watched.
‘Hmm,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank, her pipe waggling slightly as she talked. ‘Looks like something's attacked her. Can't think what would have done it, though. Thestrals will sometimes go for birds, of course, but Hagrid's got the Hogwarts Thestrals well-trained not to touch owls.’
Harry neither knew nor cared what Thestrals were; he just wanted to know that Hedwig was going to be all right. Professor McGonagall, however, looked sharply at Harry and said, ‘Do you know how far this owl's travelled, Potter?’
‘Er,’ said Harry. ‘From London, I think.’
He met her eyes briefly and knew, by the way her eyebrows had joined in the middle, that she understood ‘London’ to mean ‘number twelve, Grimmauld Place'.
Professor Grubbly-Plank pulled a monocle out of the inside of her robes and screwed it into her eye, to examine Hedwig's wing closely. ‘I should be able to sort this out if you leave her with me, Potter,’ she said, ‘she shouldn't be flying long distances for a few days, in any case.’
‘Er—right—thanks,’ said Harry, just as the bell rang for break.
‘No problem,’ said Professor Grubbly-Plank gruffly, turning back into the staff room.
‘Just a moment, Wilhelmina!’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘Potter's letter!’
‘Oh yeah!’ said Harry, who had momentarily forgotten the scroll tied to Hedwig's leg. Professor Grubbly-Plank handed it over and then disappeared into the staff room carrying Hedwig, who was staring at Harry as though unable to believe he would give her away like this. Feeling slightly guilty, he turned to go, but Professor McGonagall called him back.
‘Potter!’
‘Yes, Professor?’
She glanced up and down the corridor; there were students coming from both directions.
‘Bear in mind,’ she said quickly and quietly, her eyes on the scroll in his hand, ‘that channels of communication in and out of Hogwarts may be being watched, won't you?’
‘I—’ said Harry, but the flood of students rolling along the corridor was almost upon him. Professor McGonagall gave him a curt nod and retreated into the staff room, leaving Harry to be swept out into the courtyard with the crowd. He spotted Ron and Hermione already standing in a sheltered corner, their cloak collars turned up against the wind. Harry slit open the scroll as he hurried towards them and found five words in Sirius's handwriting:
Today, same time, same place.
‘Is Hedwig OK?’ asked Hermione anxiously, the moment he was within earshot.
‘Where did you take her?’ asked Ron.
‘To Grubbly-Plank,’ said Harry. ‘And I met McGonagall ... listen ...’
And he told them what Professor McGonagall had said. To his surprise, neither of the others looked shocked. On the contrary, they exchanged significant looks.
‘What?’ said Harry, looking from Ron to Hermione and back again.
‘Well, I was just saying to Ron ... what if someone had tried to intercept Hedwig? I mean, she's never been hurt on a flight before, has she?’
‘Who's the letter from, anyway?’ asked Ron, taking the note from Harry.
‘Snuffles,’ said Harry quietly.
‘"Same time, same place?” Does he mean the fire in the common room?’
‘Obviously,’ said Hermione, also reading the note. She looked uneasy. ‘I just hope nobody else has read this ...’
‘But it was still sealed and everything,’ said Harry, trying to convince himself as much as her. ‘And nobody would understand what it meant if they didn't know where we'd spoken to him before, would they?’
‘I don't know,’ said Hermione anxiously, hitching her bag back over her shoulder as the bell rang again, ‘it wouldn't be exactly difficult to re-seal the scroll by magic ... and if anyone's watching the Floo Network ... but I don't really see how we can warn him not to come without that being intercepted, too!’
They trudged down the stone steps to the dungeons for Potions, all three of them, lost in thought, but as they reached the bottom of the steps they were recalled to themselves by the voice of Draco Malfoy, who was standing just outside Snape's classroom door, waving around an official-looking piece of parchment and talking much louder than was necessary so that they could hear every word.
‘Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, I went to ask her first thing this morning. Well, it was pretty much automatic, I mean, she knows my father really well, he's always popping in and out of the Ministry ... it'll be interesting to see whether Gryffindor are allowed to keep playing, won't it?’
‘Don't rise,’ Hermione whispered imploringly to Harry and Ron, who were both watching Malfoy, faces set and fists clenched. ‘It's what he wants.’
‘I mean,’ said Malfoy, raising his voice a little more, his grey eyes glittering malevolently in Harry and Ron's direction, ‘if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, I don't think they've got much chance ... from what my father says, they've been looking for an excuse to sack Arthur Weasley for years ... and as for Potter ... my father says it's a matter of time before the Ministry has him carted off to St. Mungo's ... apparently they've got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic.’
Malfoy made a grotesque face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle gave their usual grunts of laughter; Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee.
Something collided hard with Harry's shoulder, knocking him sideways. A split second later he realised that Neville had just charged past him, heading straight for Malfoy.
‘Neville, no!’
Harry leapt forward and seized the back of Neville's robes; Neville struggled frantically, his fists flailing, trying desperately to get at Malfoy who looked, for a moment, extremely shocked.
‘Help me!’ Harry flung at Ron, managing to get an arm around Neville's neck and dragging him backwards, away from the Slytherins. Crabbe and Goyle were flexing their arms as they stepped in front of Malfoy, ready for the fight. Ron seized Neville's arms, and together he and Harry succeeded in dragging Neville back into the Gryffindor line. Nevilles face was scarlet; the pressure Harry was exerting on his throat rendered him quite incomprehensible, but odd words spluttered from his mouth.
‘Not ... funny ... don't ... Mungo's ... show ... him ...’
The dungeon door opened. Snape appeared there. His black eyes swept up the Gryffindor line to the point where Harry and Ron were wrestling with Neville.
‘Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom?’ Snape said in his cold, sneering voice. ‘Ten points from Gryffindor. Release Longbottom, Potter, or it will be detention. Inside, all of you.’
Harry let go of Neville, who stood panting and glaring at him.
‘I had to stop you,’ Harry gasped, picking up his bag. ‘Crabbe and Goyle would've torn you apart.’
Neville said nothing; he merely snatched up his own bag and stalked off into the dungeon.
‘What in the name of Merlin,’ said Ron slowly, as they followed Neville, ‘was that about?’
Harry did not answer. He knew exactly why the subject of people who were in St. Mungo's because of magical damage to their brains was highly distressing to Neville, but he had sworn to Dumbledore that he would not tell anyone Neville's secret. Even Neville did not know Harry knew.
Harry, Ron and Hermione took their usual seats at the back of the class, pulled out parchment, quills and their copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.The class around them was whispering about what Neville had just done, but when Snape closed the dungeon door with an echoing bang, everybody immediately fell silent.
‘You will notice,’ said Snape, in his low, sneering voice, ‘that we have a guest with us today.’
He gestured towards the dim corner of the dungeon and Harry saw Professor Umbridge sitting there, clipboard on her knee. He glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione, his eyebrows raised. Snape and Umbridge, the two teachers he hated most. It was hard to decide which one he wanted to triumph over the other.
‘We are continuing with our Strengthening Solution today. You will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson; it correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend—instructions—’ he waved his wand again ‘—on the board. Carry on.’
Professor Umbridge spent the first half hour of the lesson making notes in her corner. Harry was very interested in hearing her question Snape; so interested, that he was becoming careless with his potion again.
‘Salamander blood, Harry!’ Hermione moaned, grabbing his wrist to prevent him adding the wrong ingredient for the third time, ‘not pomegranate juice!’
‘Right,’ said Harry vaguely, putting down the bottle and continuing to watch the corner. Umbridge had just got to her feet. ‘Ha,’ he said softly, as she strode between two lines of desks towards Snape, who was bending over Dean Thomas's cauldron.
‘Well, the class seem fairly advanced for their level,’ she said briskly to Snape's back. ‘Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.’
Snape straightened up slowly and turned to look at her.
‘Now ... how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?’ she asked, her quill poised over her clipboard.
‘Fourteen years,’ Snape replied. His expression was unfathomable. Harry, watching him closely, added a few drops to his potion; it hissed menacingly and turned from turquoise to orange.
‘You applied first for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?’ Professor Umbridge asked Snape.
‘Yes,’ said Snape quietly.
‘But you were unsuccessful?’
Snape's lip curled.
‘Obviously.’
Professor Umbridge scribbled on her clipboard.
‘And you have applied regularly for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?’
‘Yes,’ said Snape quietly, barely moving his lips. He looked very angry.
‘Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?’ asked Umbridge.
‘I suggest you ask him,’ said Snape jerkily.
‘Oh, I shall,’ said Professor Umbridge, with a sweet smile.
‘I suppose this is relevant?’ Snape asked, his black eyes narrowed.
‘Oh yes,’ said Professor Umbridge, ‘yes, the Ministry wants a thorough understanding of teachers'—er—backgrounds.’
She turned away, walked over to Pansy Parkinson and began questioning her about the lessons. Snape looked round at Harry and their eyes met for a second. Harry hastily dropped his gaze to his potion, which was now congealing foully and giving off a. strong smell of burned rubber.
‘No marks again, then, Potter,’ said Snape maliciously, emptying Harry's cauldron with a wave of his wand. ‘You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?’
‘Yes,’ said Harry furiously. Snape had already given them homework and he had Quidditch practice this evening; this would mean another couple of sleepless nights. It did not seem possible that he had awoken that morning feeling very happy. All he felt now was a fervent desire for this day to end.
‘Maybe I'll skive off Divination,’ he said glumly, as they stood in the courtyard after lunch, the wind whipping at the hems of robes and brims of hats. ‘I'll pretend to be ill and do Snape's essay instead, then I won't have to stay up half the night.’
‘You can't skive off Divination,’ said Hermione severely.
‘Hark who's talking, you walked out of Divination, you hate Trelawney!’ said Ron indignantly.
‘I don't hate her,’ said Hermione loftily. ‘I just think she's an absolutely appalling teacher and a real old fraud. But Harry's already missed History of Magic and I don't think he ought to miss anything else today!’
There was too much truth in this to ignore, so half an hour later Harry took his seat in the hot, overperfumed atmosphere of the Divination classroom, feeling angry at everybody. Professor Trelawney was yet again handing out copies of The Dream Oracle.Harry thought he'd surely be much better employed doing Snape's punishment essay than sitting here trying to find meaning in a lot of made-up dreams.
It seemed, however, that he was not the only person in Divination who was in a temper. Professor Trelawney slammed a copy of the Oracle down on the table between Harry and Ron and swept away, her lips pursed; she threw the next copy of the Oracle at Seamus and Dean, narrowly avoiding Seamus's head, and thrust the final one into Neville's chest with such force that he slipped off his pouffe.
‘Well, carry on!’ said Professor Trelawney loudly, her voice high-pitched and somewhat hysterical, ‘you know what to do! Or am I such a sub-standard teacher that you have never learned how to open a book?’
The class stared perplexedly at her, then at each other. Harry, however, thought he knew what was the matter. As Professor Trelawney flounced back to the high-backed teachers chair, her magnified eyes full of angry tears, he leaned his head closer to Ron's and muttered, ‘I think she's got the results of her inspection back.’
‘Professor?’ said Parvati Patil in a hushed voice (she and Lavender had always rather admired Professor Trelawney). ‘Professor, is there anything—er—wrong?’
‘Wrong!’ cried Professor Trelawney in a voice throbbing with emotion. ‘Certainly not! I have been insulted, certainly ... insinuations have been made against me ... unfounded accusations levelled ... but no, there is nothing wrong, certainly not!’
She took a great shuddering breath and looked away from Parvati, angry tears spilling from under her glasses.
‘I say nothing,’ she choked, ‘of sixteen years of devoted service ... it has passed, apparently, unnoticed ... but I shall not be insulted, no, I shall not!’
‘But, Professor, who's insulting you?’ asked Parvati timidly.
‘The Establishment!’ said Professor Trelawney, in a deep, dramatic, wavering voice. ‘Yes, those with eyes too clouded by the mundane to See as I See, to Know as I Know ... of course, we Seers have always been feared, always persecuted ... it is—alas—our fate.’
She gulped, dabbed at her wet cheeks with the end of her shawl, then she pulled a small embroidered handkerchief from her sleeve, and blew her nose very hard with a sound like Peeves blowing a raspberry.
Ron sniggered. Lavender shot him a disgusted look.
‘Professor,’ said Parvati, ‘do you mean ... is it something Professor Umbridge—?’
‘Do not speak to me about that woman!’ cried Professor Trelawney leaping to her feet, her beads rattling and her spectacles flashing. ‘Kindly continue with your work!’
And she spent the rest of the lesson striding among them, tears still leaking from behind her glasses, muttering what sounded like threats under her breath.
‘... may well choose to leave ... the indignity of it ... on probation ... we shall see ... how she dares ...’
‘You and Umbridge have got something in common,’ Harry told Hermione quietly when they met again in Defence Against the Dark Arts. ‘She obviously reckons Trelawney's an old fraud, too ... looks like she's put her on probation.’
Umbridge entered the room as he spoke, wearing her black velvet bow and an expression of great smugness.
‘Good afternoon, class.’
‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,’ they chanted dully.
‘Wands away, please.’
But there was no answering flurry of movement this time; nobody had bothered to take out their wands.
‘Please turn to page thirty-four of Defensive Magical Theory and read the third chapter, entitled “The Case for Non-Offensive Responses to Magical Attack". There will be—’
‘—no need to talk,’ Harry, Ron and Hermione said together, under their breaths.
‘No Quidditch practice,’ said Angelina in hollow tones when Harry, Ron and Hermione entered the common room after dinner that night.
‘But I kept my temper!’ said Harry, horrified. ‘I didn't say anything to her, Angelina, I swear, I—’
‘I know, I know, said Angelina miserably. ‘She just said she needed a bit of time to consider.’
‘Consider what?’ said Ron angrily. ‘She's given the Slytherins permission, why not us?’
But Harry could imagine how much Umbridge was enjoying holding the threat of no Gryffindor Quidditch team over their heads and could easily understand why she would not want to relinquish that weapon over them too soon.
‘Well,’ said Hermione, ‘look on the bright side—at least now you'll have time to do Snape's essay!’
‘That's a bright side, is it?’ snapped Harry, while Ron stared incredulously at Hermione. ‘No Quidditch practice, and extra Potions?’
Harry slumped down into a chair, dragged his Potions essay reluctantly from his bag and set to work. It was very hard to concentrate; even though he knew Sirius was not due in the fire until much later, he could not help glancing into the flames every few minutes just in case. There was also an incredible amount of noise in the room: Fred and George appeared finally to have perfected one type of Skiving Snackbox, which they were taking turns to demonstrate to a cheering and whooping crowd.
First, Fred would take a bite out of the orange end of a chew, at which he would vomit spectacularly into a bucket they had placed in front of them. Then he would force down the purple end of the chew, at which the vomiting would immediately cease. Lee Jordan, who was assisting the demonstration, was lazily Vanishing the vomit at regular intervals with the same Vanishing Spell Snape kept using on Harry's potions.
What with the regular sounds of retching, cheering and the sound of Fred and George taking advance orders from the crowd, Harry was finding it exceptionally difficult to focus on the correct method for Strengthening Solution. Hermione was not helping matters; the cheers and the sound of vomit hitting the bottom of Fred and George's bucket were punctuated by her loud and disapproving sniffs, which Harry found, if anything, more distracting.
‘Just go and stop them, then!’ he said irritably, after crossing out the wrong weight of powdered griffin claw for the fourth time.
‘I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong,’ said Hermione through gritted teeth. ‘They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way and it doesn't look as though they are.’
She, Harry and Ron watched George projectile-vomit into the bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew and straighten up, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause.
‘You know, I don't get why Fred and George only got three OWLs each,’ said Harry, watching as Fred, George and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. ‘They really know their stuff.’
‘Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's of no real use to anyone,’ said Hermione disparagingly.
‘No real use?’ said Ron in a strained voice. ‘Hermione, they've made about twenty-six Galleons already.’
It was a long while before the crowd around the Weasley twins dispersed, then Fred, Lee and George sat up counting their takings even longer, so it was well past midnight when Harry, Ron and Hermione finally had the common room to themselves. At long last, Fred had closed the doorway to the boys’ dormitories behind him, rattling his box of Galleons ostentatiously so that Hermione scowled. Harry, who was making very little progress with his Potions essay, decided to give it up for the night. As he put his books away, Ron, who was dozing lightly in an armchair, gave a muffled grunt, awoke, and looked blearily into the fire.
‘Sirius!’ he said.
Harry whipped round. Sirius's untidy dark head was sitting in the fire again.
‘Hi,’ he said, grinning.
‘Hi,’ chorused Harry, Ron and Hermione, all three kneeling down on the hearthrug. Crookshanks purred loudly and approached the fire, trying, despite the heat, to put his face close to Sirius's.
‘How're things?’ said Sirius.
‘Not that good,’ said Harry, as Hermione pulled Crookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers. ‘The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams—’
‘Or secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups?’ Said Sirius.
There was a short pause.
‘How did you know about that?’ Harry demanded.
‘You want to choose your meeting places more carefully,’ said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. ‘The Hog's Head, I ask you.’
‘Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!’ said Hermione defensively. ‘That's always packed with people—’
‘Which means you'd have been harder to overhear,’ said Sirius. ‘You've got a lot to learn, Hermione.’
‘Who overheard us?’ Harry demanded.
‘Mundungus, of course,’ said Sirius, and when they all looked puzzled he laughed. ‘He was the witch under the veil.’
‘That was Mundungus?’ Harry said, stunned. ‘What was he doing in the Hog's Head?’
‘What do you think he was doing?’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘Keeping an eye on you, of course.’
‘I'm still being followed?’ asked Harry angrily.
‘Yeah, you are,’ said Sirius, ‘and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organise an illegal defence group.’
But he looked neither angry nor worried. On the contrary, he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.
‘Why was Dung hiding from us?’ asked Ron, sounding disappointed. ‘We'd've liked to've seen him.’
‘He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago,’ said Sirius, ‘and that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately ... anyway ... first of all, Ron—I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother.’
‘Oh yeah?’ said Ron, sounding apprehensive.
‘She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also’ (Sirius's eyes turned to the other two) ‘advises Harry and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight.’
‘On duty doing what?’ said Ron quickly.
‘Never you mind, just stuff for the Order,’ said Sirius. ‘So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to.’
There was another pause in which Crookshanks, mewing, attempted to paw Sirius's head, and Ron fiddled with a hole in the hearthrug.
‘So, you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the Defence group?’ he muttered finally.
‘Me? Certainly not!’ said Sirius, looking surprised. ‘I think it's an excellent idea!’
‘You do?’ said Harry, his heart lifting.
‘Of course I do!’ said Sirius. ‘D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?’
‘But—last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks—’
‘Last year, all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘This year, we know there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!’
‘And if we do get expelled?’ Hermione asked, a quizzical look on her face.
‘Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!’ said Harry, staring at her.
‘I know it was. I just wondered what Sirius thought,’ she said, shrugging.
‘Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,’ said Sirius.
‘Hear, hear,’ said Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
‘So,’ said Sirius, ‘how are you organising this group? Where are you meeting?’
‘Well, that's a bit of a problem now,’ said Harry. ‘Dunno where we're going to be able to go.’
‘How about the Shrieking Shack?’ suggested Sirius.
‘Hey, that's an idea!’ said Ron excitedly, but Hermione made a sceptical noise and all three of them looked at her, Sirius's head turning in the flames.
‘Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school,’ said Hermione, ‘and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee—’
‘Fair point,’ said Sirius, looking slightly crestfallen. ‘Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere. There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practise jinxes in there.’
‘Fred and George told me it's blocked,’ said Harry, shaking his head. ‘Caved in or something.’
‘Oh ...’ said Sirius, frowning. ‘Well, I'll have a think and get back to—’
He broke off. His face was suddenly tense, alarmed. He turned sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.
‘Sirius?’ said Harry anxiously.
But he had vanished. Harry gaped at the flames for a moment, then turned to look at Ron and Hermione.
‘Why did he—?’
Hermione gave a horrified gasp and leapt to her feet, still staring at the fire.
A hand had appeared amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings.
The three of them ran for it. At the door of the boys’ dormitory Harry looked back. Umbridge's hand was still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knew exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and was determined to seize it.
剩下的周末时光里，哈利感到了整个学期以来前所未有的愉悦。他和罗恩又花了周日的大部分时间赶他们的作业，当然这不能称得上有趣。但因秋日阳光灿烂，他们不再围着桌子，而是把各自的功课扔在一边，在湖边大树的影子下闲逛起来。而决意按时做完所有功课的荷米恩，带了更多的毛线，对自己的织针施加了魔法，于是它们便在半空中中反射出耀眼的阳光，“滴答”作响地织出更多的帽子和桌巾。
在知道了他们正在采取行动抵抗昂布瑞吉和魔法部，而昂布瑞吉又是叛乱的一个关键人物的时候，哈利感到了极大的满足。他在脑中回想着每星期六的会面：所有这些到他这里学习黑魔法防卫术的人、他们听过他的所为后的神态、秋在 Triwizard 巡回赛中对他的表现的啧啧称赞——知道了这些人不再把他当成一个说谎的无赖，有些人甚至很崇拜他，他感到如此振奋，以至这种快乐的情绪延续到了星期一的早上——尽管这天没什么他喜欢的课程。 他和罗恩下了宿舍楼，讨论着安吉丽娜关于在夜间练习中练习一种叫Sloth Grip Roll的新动作的主意。当他们经过阳光普照的休息室时，他们注意到室中多出来的物品已经吸引了一小群人在观看。
格兰芬多的布告栏粘贴着一个巨大的告示，它覆盖了在布告栏上的所有其他东西 ——二手符咒书的售货清单、由Argus Filch张贴的学校常规提醒、魁地奇队的训练时间表、某种巧克力蛙卡交换启事、Weasleys最新的测试广告、去霍格莫德村的周末日期以及各种寻物启事。新的告示是用巨大的黑色字母书写的，在它的底部有一个官方印章，旁边是整齐的花体签名落款：
霍格瓦彻魔法学校令
所有学生组织、社团、团体、dubs即日起解散。
学生组织、社团、团体、俱乐部指3人或以上的学生例会。
重新建立必须通过高级检查官（昂布瑞吉教授）的批准。
未得到高级检查官认可和批准的任何社团、团体、俱乐部都不允许存在。
任何建立、参加未经高级检查官批准的组织、社团、群体、俱乐部的学生将被开除。
上述文件依据24号教育法令
签名：多洛瑞斯·昂布瑞吉，高级检查官
哈利和罗恩站在一群忧心忡忡的二年级学生后面，越过他们的脑袋，读着这张通知。
“这是否意味着他们将关闭Gobstones俱乐部？”其中一人问他的朋友。
“我估计你的Gobstones会没事，”罗恩阴沉沉地说，吓得这名二年级学生跳起来，“而我们就没那么幸运了，你说呢？”当二年级学生匆忙离去后，他问哈利。
哈利正在再次阅读这则告示，自星期六以来便充盈他全身的愉悦已消逝得无影无踪。他体内充满了愤怒。
“这绝非巧合”他说，他把手握成拳状，“她知道。”
“她不可能知道” 罗恩立刻答道。
“会有人在那酒店偷听，让我们面对这一点，我们不知道多少出现在我们眼前的人是值得信任的。他们中的任何人都可能跑去向昂布瑞吉告密。”
而他竟以为他们信任他，甚至认为他们崇拜着他。
“Zacharias Smith！” 罗恩立刻说道，并用拳猛击一下自己的手掌，“或者，我认为Michael Corner 也叛变了！” “我想知道荷米恩看到了这告示没有？” 哈利说，一边扫视那扇通向女生宿舍的门。 “让我们去告诉她吧。” 罗恩说。他向前跃进，打开了门，走上螺旋梯。 当他到了第六级阶梯时，一种高声的、哀号似的、听起来像高音喇叭的声音和阶梯融合在一起，形成了一道像平滑的石梯。罗恩试图逃跑，他的手疯狂的舞动着，就像一架风车。然后他被新形成的石梯击中，后背着地摔倒在哈利的脚下。
“恩，我不认为我们被允许进入女生宿舍” 哈利说着，把罗恩从他脚上扶起来，试图忍住不大笑出声。 两个四年级的女生笑着从石梯上走来。
“噢，谁想上楼去？”她们开心得吃吃直笑，蹦蹦跳跳的笑看着哈利和罗恩。
“是我。” 灰头土脸的罗恩说，“我不知道会发生那种事。这不公平！”当女孩们疯笑着从肖像画洞口离开时，他对哈利补充道：“荷米恩被允许进入我们的宿舍，为什么我们不能……？” “这是一条老规矩”，她优雅地滑下石梯，跳到他们面前的地毯上，不费吹灰之力。“在霍格沃兹而言，这是一个历史问题，创立者认为男生相对女生而言较为不值得信赖。不管怎样，你为什么要去那儿？”
“来找你，看看这个！” 罗恩不由分说地把她拖曳到告示板前。 荷米恩的眼睛快速地在告示上扫视，她的表情变得凝重起来。
“一定有人向她告密！” 罗恩愤愤不平地说道。 “他们不可能这么做，” 荷米恩低声说道 。
“你太天真了，” 罗恩说“因为你诚实可信，你就这样认为吗？” “不，他们不会这样做的，因为我对那张有我们签名的羊皮纸下了诅咒，” 荷米恩镇静地说道，“相信我，如果他们中的任何人跑去向昂布瑞吉告密，我们会清楚的知道他们是谁，他们也必定会对此感到由衷的后悔。” “他们会怎样？” 罗恩以渴望的声调说道。 “如果这样，” 荷米恩说，“这会让Eloise Midgeon的粉刺看起来像一对可爱斑点。来吧，让我们享用我们的早餐并看看其他人怎么想的。我想知道这张通知是否张贴在所有房间里。”
一走进大厅，他们就知道不光只是格兰芬多塔贴有昂布瑞吉氏的告示了。强烈的情绪和异常的躁动在门厅里蔓延，人们围着桌子围着桌子议论着他们读到的东西。哈利、罗恩 和荷米恩 刚一入座，奈威、Dean、弗来德、乔治 和 金妮 便径直向他们走来。 “你看到那告示了吗？”
“你们猜她知道了吗？”
“我们该怎么办呢？”
他们都注视着哈利，他向周围扫视了一周，确认附近没有老师。
“不管怎样，我们当然还是要那么做的。”他低声说道。
“就知道你会那么说！” 乔治兴奋地在哈利臂上重重一击。 “级长呢？” 弗来德问道，探询性的看向罗恩和荷米恩· “当然。” 荷米恩沉着地说。
“Ernie和Hannah Abbott在这儿，” 罗恩越过他的肩膀张望着，“这里是Ravenclaw blokes和Smith，没有人看起来是有污点的。”
荷米恩一脸警视：
“别去关心那些斑点，那些白痴现在还不会出现在这儿，这种举动让你看起来很可疑，坐下！”她对Ernie和Hannah比口形，疯狂地向他们作手势让他们重新坐到Hufflepuff桌。“稍后！我们—稍后——再—谈！”
“一直等到告诉Michael，” 金妮不耐烦地说，她在长凳上摇摆着，“那些笨蛋，彻头彻尾的笨蛋。” 她快速走向Ravenclaw那一桌；哈利看着她远去。秋坐得并不远，她正跟一个跟她一起去过猪头酒吧的卷发朋友说话。昂布拉吉是否注意到她又吓得不敢再跟他们会面了呢？
直到他们离开大厅，去上魔法史课，通知激起的巨大反应仍未平息。
“哈利！ 罗恩。”
是安吉丽娜，她带着绝望的表情，不顾一切的向他们冲过来。
“好的，”当她走近到足以听见他的声音时，哈利悄声说道，“我们仍然试图……”
“你难道不知道她的告示包括在魁地奇内吗？” 安吉丽娜打断了他，“我们必须申请得到许可，以重组格兰芬多队。 “什么？”哈利说。
“没门！”罗恩一脸惊骇。
“你们阅读了告示，它也提及了团队！因此，听我说，哈利，我说最后一次，请不要再跟昂布瑞吉大动肝火了，否则的话，她可能再也不让我们玩魁地奇了！”
“好吧好吧，”看见安吉丽娜的眼泪已经在眼眶里打转，哈利只好先答应下来，“别担心，我会自制的。”
“我打赌昂布瑞吉会出现在魔法史教室。”在他们去上宾斯教授的课的途中，罗恩冷冷地说，“她还没有检查宾斯教授呢。我打赌她在那里，赌什么都行。”
可他错了，当他们进入教室时，出现在他们眼前的只有唯一一位老师——宾斯教授，像平时一样飘浮在椅子上方一英尺的地方，正准备继续讲授单调而又长篇累牍的巨人战争。哈利今天甚至不想尝试着跟随他的讲课思路。他闲散地在他的羊皮纸上涂鸦，不去理睬荷米恩对他的频频怒视和推搡，直到肋骨上一次明显的刺痛惹恼了他，他才抬起头。
“什么？”
她指向窗，哈利环视四周，发现海维正栖息在窗子狭窄的边缘上，透过厚厚的玻璃窗凝视着他，它腿上绑着一封信。哈利真搞不明白它，他们刚刚一起用过早餐，究竟为什么它不像往常一样在那时递送这封信呢？他的许多同学也都认出了它。
“噢，我一直很喜欢那只猫头鹰，她是那么的漂亮” 哈利听到Lavender 对Parvati这样叹道。
他瞥了一眼还在继续朗读笔记的宾斯教授，教授仿佛丝毫没有察觉到班级里对他的注意力比往常更少了。哈利悄悄地离开他自己的座位，蜷缩着身子，飞快地穿过教室里的排排座位来到窗边，他滑动着窗钩，缓缓打开它。
他希望海维伸出它的脚，那么他就可以拿走信，然后让它飞回猫头鹰屋。但那个时候窗子已经开得足够宽，因此海维希望可以飞进去，于是它寂寞地叫了起来。他忙关上窗，不安地向教授瞥了一眼，再次蜷缩着身子，把海维放在肩膀上，快速返回到自己的座位，又把它转移到自己膝上，解下绑在它腿上的信件。
直到那时他才突然发现海维的羽毛奇怪地卷曲着；有些倒了，它的一只翅膀耷拉着。
“它受伤了！”哈利低声说，一边弯下头靠近它。荷米恩和罗恩倾斜着身子以便靠得更近；荷米恩甚至放下了她的羽毛笔。“看，它的翅膀的这里有些不妥。”
海维颤抖着，当哈利碰触她的翅膀时，它忍不住轻跳了起来。海维所有羽毛都竖了起来，它责备地看着他。
“宾斯教授，” 哈利大声说，教室里的所有人都转过来看向他，“我感到有点不舒服。” 宾斯教授把他的视线从笔记上移开，惊讶地看着哈利，却像往常一样，只发现满屋子的人。
“感到不舒服？”他模糊地重复道。
“浑身都不舒服，” 哈利把海维藏在背后，坚定地迈开步子，“我认为我需要飞速赶到医院去。” “是的，” 宾斯教授说，明显的有些手足无措，“是的，是的，飞速赶到医院，好的，你可以走了，那么，Perkins。”
一出教室，哈利就把海维重新放到肩上，匆忙地在廊上行走，直到离开宾斯教授的视力可及之处才停下来思考。他心目中治疗海维的首选当然是哈格力，但由于他现在并不知道哈格力在哪儿，于是他唯一剩余的选择就是向Grubbly-Plank教授寻求帮助。
他从窗内窥视窗外那阴郁多风的土地，靠近哈格力的小屋无论如何都不会有她的告示；如果她现在不在授课，她可能会在教研室。他走下楼，海维在他肩上虚弱地摇摆着，不时发出柔弱的哀号。
在教研室大门两侧分别嵌着一只石兽装饰。当哈利靠近大门，其中一个石兽用嘶哑的嗓音说道：“你现在应该在课堂上，小家伙。”
“这事很紧急。” 哈利说得很简略。
“噢，急事，是吗？”另一只石兽用尖锐的声调说道，“好吧，这倒让我们做起本职工作来了，不是吗？”
哈利敲了敲门，他听到脚步声，门开了，他与麦格教授面面相觑。
“你没有被判处又一次禁闭吧！”她立刻说道，她的方形眼镜闪耀着警示的光芒。
“没有，教授！” 哈利急忙为自己辩白。
“好的，那么，你为什么不在自己的课堂上呢？”
“显而易见的，是因为有急事，”第二只石兽用他的丑恶嘴脸说道。
“我在寻找Grubbly-Plank教授，” 哈利解释道，“这是我的猫头鹰，它受伤了。” “受伤的猫头鹰，是吗？”
Grubbly-Plank教授一手持着烟管，一手持着一份预言家日报，出现在麦格教授的肩上。
“是的。” 哈利小心翼翼地把肩膀上的海维轻轻举起来，“它出现在其他的投递猫头鹰后面，它的羽翼变得很古怪，看。” Grubbly-Plank教授用牙齿紧紧咬住烟管，然后在麦格教授的注视下从哈利手中拿走海维。
“恩，” Grubbly-Plank说，她的烟管在她说话时来回地摆动着，“它好象被某种东西袭击了。真难以想象什么东西会把它伤成这样。当然的，Thestrals会时常猎取鸟儿，但是哈格力已经好好地训练过霍格沃兹的Thestrals，让它们不再去招惹猫头鹰了。”
哈利不想知道也不关心什么是Thestrals，他只想知道海维能否复原。可麦格教授却用敏锐的目光看着哈利，问道：“你知道这只猫头鹰飞了多远的路吗，波特？”
“恩，”哈利说，“大概有到伦敦那么远，我想。”
他飞快地瞥了她一眼，当他看到她双眉紧缩，就知道她已经明了“伦敦”实际上意味着“Grimmauld Place，十二号。”
Grubbly-Plank教授从她的长袍中掏出一片单片眼镜，把它塞进自己的眼睛里，近距离检查海维的翅膀。“如果你把它交给我的话我可以很快让它复原，”她说，“她这几天无论如何不能飞得太远。”
“恩，好的，谢谢你。” 哈利说，正在此时，休息铃响了。 “没问题，” Grubbly-Plank教授粗声说，随即返回了教研室。
“等一下，Wilhelmina！”麦格教授匆匆喊道：“波特的信！”
“噢，是的！” 哈利说，他差点忘了海维腿上的纸卷。Grubbly-Plank把信移交给哈利，然后就带着海维在教研室中消失了。海维消失前一直紧盯着哈利，似乎不敢相信他会这样抛下它。哈利感到有点心虚，他正想离开，却被麦格教授叫了回来。
“波特！”
“是的，教授？”
她上下扫视着门廊，两个方向都有学生走出来。
“记住，”她看着他手中的纸卷快速地低声说道，“那个霍格沃兹与外界的联络渠道将会被看护得好好的，你会这样做吗？”
“我……” 哈利正想作答，但是走廊上的学生们已蜂拥而至。麦格教授向他点了点头，撤回了教研室。留下哈利被熙攘的人群席卷入院中。他发现罗恩和荷米恩早已站在安全的角落，他们的外衣领子在风中翻飞。哈利一边跑向他们，一边打开纸卷，发现纸卷上有五个词——是天狼星的笔迹：今天，老时间，老地方。 “海维还好吧？” 荷米恩忧虑地问道，此刻他才回过了神。 “你把它带去哪儿了？” 罗恩问
“Grubbly-Plank教授那儿，”哈利说，“我还见到了麦格，听着。”
他把麦格所说的话转告给他们。出乎他的意料之外，他们并不感到震惊。相反的，他们交换着意味深长的眼神。
“什么？” 哈利说，把眼神从罗恩身上转到荷米恩身上又再转回来。 “好，我刚刚只是在跟罗恩说话。如果有人试图在中途阻截海维，那会怎么样？我是说，它还从未在以前的飞行途中受过伤，不是吗？”
“无论怎样，那是谁的信？” 罗恩问，从哈利手中拿过纸条。 “用鼻音讲。”哈利轻声提醒道。
“‘老时间，老地方’？他说的是教研室的炉火中吗？”
“显然的，” 荷米恩说，她也正在阅读纸条，她有点心神不安，“我希望没有其他人读过它。” “但是它到我手里时依旧是密封的，” 哈利像她一样尽量试图让自己信服，“如果他们不知道我们以前跟他在哪见面，那么就没有人会知道它意味着什么，不是吗？” “我不知道，” 荷米恩一脸焦虑，当铃声再次响起来的时候她猛把他的背包拉过肩，“用魔法重新密封纸卷并不是什么难事，我们也并不知道是否有人在监视壁炉网络系统，但是我确实不知道我们怎么才能在信件不被阻截的情况下警告他。” 他们走下石梯去上魔法学课程，三个人都走了神。但当他们走到最后几级台阶时，却被马尔夫的声音从沉思中唤醒。他站在斯内普的教室门外，挥舞着一张官方文件样的羊皮纸，故意提高了声音以便让他们能够清楚的听到每个字。
“是的，昂布瑞吉批准史莱哲林学院的魁地奇球队继续活动，我今天一大早就去向她申请了。这其实是理所当然的，我是说，她跟我的父亲很熟，他经常出入魔法部。看格兰芬多是否能得到批准继续参加球赛是件趣事，不是吗？”
“别生气，” 荷米恩小声向哈利和罗恩哀求道，他们怒视着马尔夫，脸儿通红，拳头紧握，“这正称了他的意。” “我是说，” 马尔夫又把声调提高了一点，他的灰色眼睛里闪烁着恶意，看向哈利和罗恩所在的方向，“如果这个问题跟魔法部的影响有关，我可不认为他们有多少机会。据我父亲所言，他们近年来一直在找理由解雇韦斯利（罗恩的父亲，在魔法部任职）。波特也一样。我父亲说把他送到St Mungo魔法疾病医院去只是个时间问题。很明显，他们对脑袋被魔法搞混的人有特殊的防护措施。”
马尔夫做了个鬼脸，他垂着嘴，眼珠乱转。Crabbe和Goyle和往常一样发出咕哝的笑声，Pansy Parkinson快乐地尖叫起来。
似乎有什么东西在哈利的肩上猛撞了一记，撞得他向一边倒去。马上他就明白刚刚是奈威（哈利在葛来分多的同学，是记性差的迷糊鬼，常惹麻烦）走过他身旁，径直地向马尔夫冲去。
“奈威，不要！”
哈利飞奔向前，抓住了奈威的长袍。奈威疯狂的挣扎，他双拳乱舞，拼命挣扎着试图靠近马尔夫。马尔夫顿时惊骇万分。
“帮我！” 哈利向罗恩求助，他用一只手绕过奈威的脖子，勉力把他拖了回来，远离史莱哲林s学院。Crabbe和Goyle舞动着他们的胳膊，站到马尔夫身前，准备搏斗。罗恩抓住了奈威的手臂，和哈利一起成功地把奈威拖回格兰芬多线内。奈威的脸涨得通红，哈利强加于自己喉咙上的压力致使他变得相当混乱，单个的单词杂乱无章地从他口中蹦出来。
“不要，有趣，别，麻瓜，展示，他。”
魔法学教室的门开了，斯内普出现在那里。他用黑眼睛扫视着格兰芬多交界线，哈利和罗恩正在那里跟奈威扭打成一团。
“打得很起劲啊，波特, Weasley, 隆巴顿？” 斯内普用他冷酷的嗓音轻蔑地嘲弄道。格兰芬多扣十分。波特，放开隆巴顿，不然就罚你禁闭。全部给我进来！“哈利松开奈威，他气喘吁吁，对哈利怒目而视。
“我必须阻止你，” 哈利上气不接下气地说，一边捡起他的书包，“Crabbe 和Goyle会把你撕成两半！”
奈威一言不发； 他只是夺过自己的书包，走入魔法教室。 “以梅林的名义，” 罗恩缓慢地说，跟在奈威后面，“那是为什么？” 哈利没有回答。他清楚知道，奈威为什么会对石墙高中的人们的大脑受到魔法损害这种话题感到痛苦，但是他已经对丹伯多发誓，他将不告诉任何人奈威的秘密，甚至奈威也不知道哈利知道这件事。
哈利、罗恩和荷米恩像以前一样坐在班级靠后的位置上，拿出羊皮纸、羽毛笔和《一千种神奇药草与蕈类》。整个班级都在轻声议论奈威刚刚的举动，但当斯内普教授“砰”地关上室门，一切立刻归于沉寂。
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“你们应该注意到”斯内普用他低沉的声音轻蔑的说，“我们今天有位客人。”
他向地牢阴暗的一角示意，哈里看见昂布瑞奇教授正坐在那儿，她的膝盖上放着一个记事板。他向罗恩和荷米恩旁边瞟了一眼，抬了抬眉毛。斯内普和昂布瑞奇是他最讨厌的两个老师。他很难弄清他更希望谁取得胜利。
“我们今天将继续研究Strengthening Solution。你们会看到你们配的药和上周留下时的一样；如果配的正确，它们应该在周末后酿造成功——说明——”他再一次挥动他的魔杖“——在黑板上。继续干。”
墙角的昂布瑞奇教授把上课的第一个半小时花在做笔记上。哈里极有兴致的听着她向斯内普提问；他的兴致使他又对自己配的药掉以轻心。
“火蜥蜴血,哈里！”荷米恩一边抱怨一边抓住他的手腕，防第三次放错药，“不是石榴汁！”
“知道了”哈里含糊的说，他放下瓶子继续向那个角落看。昂布里奇站了起来。当她走到离正在弯腰看迪安·托马斯的锅炉的斯内普两条桌子远时，“哈，”他轻声说。
“唔，这节课似乎适合于他们水平，”她兴致勃勃的在斯内普背后说“但我仍然怀疑教他们配像Strengthening Solution一类药品是否合适。我认为魔法部会考虑把它从教学大纲中删除。” 斯内普慢慢地直起腰，转过身看着她。 “迄今为止…你在霍格渥茨教过几年书？”她问，她的羽毛笔平放在记事板上。
“十四年，”斯内普回答。他脸上的表情深不可测。哈里一边密切观察，一边加入几滴药；他的药危险的嘶嘶作响，然后由绿松石色变成橘红色。
“就我所知你最初申请的是教黑魔法防御术。”昂布瑞奇教授问斯内普。
“是的，”斯内普平静的回答。
“但是你没有成功？”
“斯内普的嘴唇扭曲了。
“明摆着。”
昂布里奇教授在她的记事板上潦草的记了几笔。
“就我所知自你在这工作起，你每年都在申请这一职位”
“是的”，斯内普平静的说，几乎没有挪动嘴唇。他看上去十分恼怒。
“你知道丹伯多为什么一直拒绝给你这个职位？”昂布里奇问。
“我建议你去问他本人”，斯内普急促的说
“噢，我会的”，昂布瑞奇教授说，脸上露出一个甜甜的微笑。
“我猜这是调查的有关内容？”斯内普问，他的黑眼睛眯了起来。
“噢，是的”昂布瑞奇教授说，“是的，魔法部彻底了解每一名教师的——恩——背景”
她转过脸，走向潘茜·帕金森，然后问她关于课程的问题。
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斯内普向哈利看去，他们对视了几秒后，哈利才慌忙把自己的视线转移到药剂上头，药剂淤结在一起，发出橡胶被烧焦时的那种浓烈而又刺鼻的味道。
“那么，波特，你又不能得分了。”斯内普的言语中充满了敌意。他魔杖一挥，清空了哈利的锅炉。“你给我写一篇文章，介绍这药剂的正确成分，标出你出错的原因及过程，下节课交，知道了吗？”
“是的。”他狂暴的说道。斯内普已经给他们布置过家庭作业，除此之外，他这个晚上还要参加魁地奇训练。这意味着他又得度过许多不眠之夜。现在想来，他早上起床时的满心愉悦是多么让人难以置信啊。现在他打心底里希望着一天能快点结束。
“也许我会缺席占卜课。”他一脸阴郁。午餐后他们站在院子里，任风抽打着他们的长袍和帽边。“我想装病，那么我就可以用上课的时间完成斯内普教授布置的文章。那么我就不必熬夜了。”
“你不能逃课。” 荷米恩神情肃穆。
“听着，你已经退出了占卜课，你恨Trelawney”
“我不恨她，” 荷米恩傲慢地说道，“我只不过认为她是一个完全的骇人听闻的老师和一个彻头彻尾的老骗子。但是哈利已经错过了魔法史，因此我认为他今天不该再缺席任何一堂课了。 太多的事实被忽视了，因此半小时后，哈利坐在了占卜教室闷热而又神秘的气氛中。他对每个人都感到不满。Trelawney教授又开始分发《The Dream Oracle》的资料。哈利确信对他而言，去完成斯内普教授惩罚他写的文章，要比呆坐在这里试图从一大堆虚构的梦中找出意义好得多。
尽管如此，看来他却不是唯一一个在占卜课上火大的人。Trelawney教授猛的把一份资料摔在那张隔在哈利和罗恩中间的桌子上，然后一阵风似的走了，嘴里念念有词；她又把剩余的资料扔给Seamus和Dean，她勉强避开Seamus的头，把最后一本资料猛戳向奈威的胸口，这突如其来的巨大力量使他从他的软垫上滑了下来。
“好，继续！” Trelawney朗声说道，她的声音尖锐非常，并且稍微有点歇斯底里，“你们知道下面该怎么做！难道我的教学素质低下到从来没能让你们学会如何打开课本吗？”
整个班尴尬地看着她，然后面面相觑。可是哈利现在却认为他知道发生了什么事。当她坐回到她高高在上的教师椅时，她那双有预见能力的眼睛充满了愤怒的泪水。他把头倾向罗恩的头，对他耳语道：“我认为她已经拿回了（昂布瑞吉）对她的检查报告。”
“教授？” Parvati Patil轻声说（她和Lavender一向对Trelawney教授崇敬有加），“教授，有什么——恩——不妥吗？”
“不妥！” Trelawney教授喊道，从她的声音中不难听出情绪的波动，“当然没有！我当然是受到了侮辱。那是反对我的暗示，是欲加之罪。但不，这本身没有任何不妥，当然不会有！”
她吸了口气，身子有些发抖。她别过脸去，愤怒的泪水从她的镜片下泄漏出来。
“我什么也没说，”她哽咽了，“十六年来无私的奉献和服务，这都过去了，很显然，被忽视了。但我不该被侮辱啊！不，我不该！”
“但是，教授，谁侮辱了你？” Parvati羞怯地问道。
“Establishment！” Trelawney教授用一种沉痛的抑扬顿挫的戏剧性的声调说道，“是的，那些被乌云遮蔽了双眼的人不能像我一样看清这个世界，不能知道得像我一样多。因此，理所当然的，我们这些预言家便经常生活在恐惧之中，总是受到迫害！这真是……唉！我们的命运啊……”
她哽咽着，用披肩的尾端轻拭她双颊的泪痕，接着她从袖子里掏出一条镶有花边的手帕，用力地擤起鼻涕来，那声音就像皮皮鬼发出的咂舌声。
罗恩吃吃地笑起来，Lavender厌恶地白了他一眼。
“教授，” Parvati说，“你的意思是……这是否跟昂布瑞吉教授……”
“不要在我面前提起那个女人的名字！” Trelawney喊道，气急败坏地跺着脚，她的珠子卡嗒卡嗒的响，她的眼镜反射着光芒。“继续好好做你们的作业！”
她把剩余的时间花在在他们之间大步来回走动中。她的眼泪仍不断的从镜片下面泄漏出来，她的咕哝听起来像隐藏在她呼吸中的凶兆。
“（现在）有充分的理由可以选择离开了。查验报告中的侮辱，我们都能看到，她怎么敢这么做。”
“你和昂布瑞吉教授很有些共同之处嘛，”在黑魔法防御课上再次见面的时候哈利悄声对荷米恩说，“她显然也认为Trelawney不过是个老骗子，只是她把这观点表达在查验报告上了。”
他说的正起劲的时候，昂布瑞吉教授进来了，她穿着黑天鹅绒礼服，一脸做作的表情。
“午安，同学们。”
“午安，昂布瑞吉教授，”他们含混不清地回应道。
“请把魔杖收进去。”
但这次没有人再在应答的时候慌成一团了。因为没有人愿意花这闲工夫去把魔杖拿出来“请翻开《防御魔法》第34页，朗读第三章节，章节标题是‘在魔法攻击无效的情况下’，这可真是——”
“没说的” 哈利、罗恩和荷米恩异口同声地说。 “不再有魁地奇训练了。” 安吉丽娜沮丧地对晚餐后刚进入休息室的哈利、罗恩和荷米恩说。 “但是我已经够自制了！”哈利惊骇万分，“我什么也没有对她说，安吉丽娜，我发誓，我……”
“我知道，我知道，” 安吉丽娜痛苦地说道，“她只是说她需要一些时间来考虑这事。” “有什么好考虑的？” 罗恩怒火中烧，“史莱哲林的球队已经得到她的许可了，为什么我们不能？” 但是哈利可以想象得到昂布瑞吉该是多么的得意，因为她可以把解散格兰芬多 魁地奇球队的威胁高高地笼罩在他们头上；这样，哈利也就不难明白她不早早解散他们的原因了——因为这会使她过早失去威慑他们的武器。 “恩,” 荷米恩说，“要看到光明的一面，至少现在你有时间去完成斯内普布置的文章了！” “那是光明的一面？真是那样吗？”哈利突然问道。此时罗恩正狐疑的盯着荷米恩：“没有魁地奇训练，却有额外的药剂作业？”
哈利跌坐在一张椅子中，不情愿地把药剂短文从书包里拖曳出来，开始工作。他感到难以集中精神。尽管他知道天狼星要迟些才会出现在火中，但为防万一，他依旧忍不住过几分种就要向火焰瞥上一眼。房中的噪音大得令人难以置信：看来弗来德和乔治已经把Skiving Snackbox改进得相当完善了，他们正轮流进行演示，赢得众人的啧啧称赞。
首先，弗来德会咬住chew的黄色端，此后他会对着事先放在面前的桶大吐特吐。然后他会按下chew的紫色端，此时他便会立刻停止呕吐。Lee Jordan在演示中担当助手，他懒洋洋地定时用魔咒清空呕吐物——就是斯内普在魔法课上清空哈利锅子时所使的魔咒。
定时的呕吐声、人群的喝彩声、弗来德和乔治从人群中传出来的改进设备我命令声。哈利觉得要在这种情况下集中精力对付Strengthening Solution 药剂论文简直难于登天。荷米恩根本就帮不上忙，她只会不时地发出响亮的，饱含不满之情的嗤之以鼻声，打断人群的喝彩和呕吐物掉入弗来德 和乔治面前的木捅发出的声音。这一切，都只让哈利觉得更难以集中精力罢了。
“去阻止他们！”他气急败坏地说，这已经是他第四次弄错griffin爪粉剂的分量了。
“我不能，从技术上讲，他们没有做错任何事，” 荷米恩说，“他们有吃脏东西的权利，我找不到禁止那些白痴购买它们的规定，除非你能证明它在某些方面危险的，而且实际上要比看起来危险得多。” 荷米恩、哈利和罗恩看着乔治，他朝着木桶喷吐，并把剩下的chew一口吞下，然后直起身来，展开双臂，等待掌声。
“你知道吗？我真搞不明白为什么弗来德和乔治只各自得到了三个巫师认证。”哈利不解地看着弗来德、乔治和Lee向热心的人群收取金币，“他们实际上知道自己是块什么料。”
“噢，他们只知道搞些对他人没有任何实用价值的浮华噱头。” 荷米恩一脸轻蔑。 “没有实用价值？”罗恩提高了声音说，“荷米恩，他们已经靠这个赚到了26 Galleon（货币单位）啊。”
围绕在Weasley家双胞胎身旁的人群过了很久才散去。弗来德、 Lee和乔治又坐下来花了更长的时间来计算他们的收入。因此，当公共休息室终于只剩下哈利、罗恩和荷米恩时，已经是午夜了。弗来德走的时候关上了通向男生宿舍的门，愉快的摇晃着他装满Galleon的箱子，引来荷米恩的怒目。哈利的药剂短文进度不大，最终他决定先把它搁在一边，晚些才继续。当哈利扔开书时，在摇椅上打盹的罗恩咕哝一声，醒了，他双眼迷蒙地看向火焰：
“天狼星！”他说。
哈利像受到鞭笞似的猛转过身，见到衣冠凌乱的天狼星又出现在火中。
“嗨。”他咧嘴一笑。
“嗨。” 哈利、罗恩和荷米恩齐声应道，他们在火炉前的地毯上跪了下来。Crookshanks“咕咕”大叫，试图不顾火炉的灼热温度，想把自己的脸贴近天狼星的。
“怎么样？”天狼星问。
“不怎么好。”哈利答道，此时荷米恩正把Crookshanks拉回来以免他烧伤自己。“魔法部强行通过了另一法令，意味着不允许我们再拥有魁地奇球队了。”
“或者说是秘密的‘反黑暗巫师防卫组’吧？”
谁也没有说话。
“你怎么知道？” 哈利询问道。
“你应该更小心地选择聚会场所的。”天狼星说着，笑得更欢了。“我问你，是猪头酒吧吗？”
“但是那比Three Broomsticks要好！” 荷米恩辩解，“那里总是人满为患。” “那就意味着你们不会被偷听吗？”天狼星说，“你还有很多东西要学习，荷米恩。”
“是谁窃听了我们？”哈利问。
“当然是Mundungus，”天狼星说，他看着他们一脸疑惑的样子，笑了起来，“他实际上是个巫师。”
“会是Mundungus？”哈利大吃一惊，“他去猪头酒吧干什么？”
“你认为呢？”天狼星不耐烦地说，“当然是去监视你。”
“我仍然被跟踪着吗？” 哈利生气极了。
“是的，”天狼星说，“但你要是想在这个周末组织一个违法的防卫队其实也无妨，不是吗？”
但他看起来既不生气，也不担心，相反的，他看着哈利的目光中充满了骄傲。
“Dung为什么藏了起来？” 罗恩失望地问道，“我们喜欢看到他。” “他在二十年前就被禁止进入猪头酒吧，”天狼星说，“再说酒吧招待员的记性很好。当Sturgis被逮捕时，我们把Moody那件多余的隐身衣搞丢了，因此Dung后来经常穿成巫师的样子。不管怎样，首先，罗恩，我答应了你的母亲为她捎个信。
“噢，是吗？”罗恩表示理解。
“她说你是否参加了合法的秘密黑魔法防御组织是件无关紧要的事，她说，（但再继续坚持的话）你一定会被开除，那样你的将来就毁了。她还说你会有足够的时间来学习如何保卫你自己，还有，你现在就开始担心这些还为时过早。她也（天狼星的把眼睛转向哈利和荷米恩）建议哈利和荷米恩别再继续这个组织，尽管她认为对他们中的任何一个都无权过问，她只是求他们记得他们是她心中最关心的人。她本想把这一切用写信的方式告诉你们，但是如果送信的猫头鹰被阻截的话，你们就真的有麻烦了。她也不能亲自告诉你们这一切，因为她今天晚上要值班。”
“为什么值班？”罗恩快速问道。
“这与你无关，你只要等待指示就可以了，”天狼星说，“因此把消息告诉给你们的责任便落到了我身上，你们可以向她证实我已把消息全盘告诉了你们，因为我认为她也不那么信任我。”
他们又一次陷入沉默，Crookshanks叫唤着，想把爪子放到天狼星的头上。罗恩无意识地看着火炉前地毯上的那个洞。
“因此，你想让我保证不再加入防御组织？”他最后这样嘀咕道。
“我？当然不！”天狼星一脸惊讶地说，“我认为这是个很不错的主意！”
“真的？” 哈利问，他的心悬了起来。
“当然！”天狼星说，“你认为你的父亲和我是那种只会躺下乖乖地接受像昂布瑞吉那种老女巫的命令的人吗？”
“但是，上学期你告诉我要小心，别再去冒险……”
“去年是因为 霍格沃兹内部有人明显想杀了你，哈利，”天狼星不耐烦地说，“而今年，我们知道是霍格沃兹外部有人想杀了我们所有人，因此我认为学习恰当地保卫自己是个极好的主意。” “但如果我们真被开除了呢？” 荷米恩探询道。 “荷米恩，这整件事都是你的主意啊！”哈利凝视着她。
“是的，我只是想知道天狼星怎么想，”她耸了耸肩。
“我想，相较而言，学会保护自己而被开除要比安然无恙地坐在教室里摸不到一点头绪要强得多。”天狼星说。
“听到了吗？听到了吗！” 哈利和罗恩欣喜若狂。 “所以呢，”天狼星说，“你们要怎么组织这个团体？你们要在哪里会面？”
“是的，目前这确实是个小问题，”哈利说，“我不知道我们能够去哪里。”
“Shrieking Shack怎么样？”天狼星建议道。
“嘿，好主意！” 罗恩兴奋地说道，但荷米恩却发出质疑的声音，引来了其他三人的注目。天狼星在火焰中转过头来。 “恩，天狼星，那是因为当年你在这儿学习的时候只有你们四个在Shrieking Shack会面，” 荷米恩说，“而且你们都可以变形成动物，我还认为如果你们想这么做的话，你们甚至可以挤在一件隐形衣下面躲过众人的耳目。但是我们有28个人，而且我们中没有一个是Animagus，因此我们将需要像帐篷一样大的隐形衣……”
“一语中的，”天狼星说，看起来有些泄气，“恩，我认为你们一定会找到一个好地方的。四楼那面大镜子的后面有一个宽大的秘密通道，你们也许可以在那儿找到足够的空间来练习。”
“弗来德和乔治告诉我那个秘道已经被不能通行了，”哈利摇了摇头，“好像是因为塌陷了什么的。”
“噢，”天狼星双眉紧锁，“好吧，我会想到一个好地方然后回到……”
他突然停止说话，他的脸色变得紧张而又警觉，他转向两侧，观察壁炉的实心砖炉壁。
“天狼星？”哈利一脸焦虑。
但是他突然消失了。哈利对着火焰惊讶得张大了嘴，回过头去看罗恩和荷米恩。
“为什么他……”
荷米恩惊讶地倒吸一口气，跳了起来，双眼紧盯着炉火。
突然有一只手出现在火焰中央，摸索着像是想捉住什么；那是一只很短的手，同样短小的手指上戴满了过时的戒指。
他们三个见到这种情形便立刻奔逃出去。哈利跑到男生宿舍的大门口时，转过身子，看到昂布瑞吉的手仍然在火光中做捉捕的动作，好象她清楚地知道片刻之前天狼星的头发在那里出现过，并正试图抓住它。
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