Harry Potter and the Grim Truth

In no time at all, Defence Against the Dark Arts had become a commonly favourite class. It hadn't been a concern that Professor Lupin's robes were patched and frayed, for you'd be too interested in the lesson to pay it any mind.

After boggarts, they studied red caps, little goblin-esque creatures that lurked anytime there was bloodshed-- like in the dungeons of castles and potholes of deserted battlefields. From then, they went to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked quite like scaly monkeys with webbed hands just waiting to strangle unknowing wanderers in their ponds.

Harry only wished that his other core classes were as interesting. Of course, the elective classes he hadn't dropped had been just as engaging as the first time he'd gone, but he had been getting a bit overwhelmed by all the homework he had to keep up with, and all the notes, and all the textbooks he had to keep in his bag; He had grown a bit more used to the nauseating feeling of headaches, but something he didn't think he'd ever grow used to was Divination.

Trying to decipher shapes and symbols that made less sense than unfamiliar runes, and trying to ignore the way that Trelawney looked at him as if already mourning him. Few of his classmates, including Parvati, had taken to using a hushed voice when speaking to him, as though doing the same as Trelawney.

Then there was Care for Magical Creatures, which had become incredibly dull since the first lesson. Hagrid had seemingly lost his confidence-- they were spending lesson after lesson learning how to care for flobberworms, and although what they were supposed to be learning about, it wasn't what anyone wanted to be learning.

"Why are we still taking care of these things? Why would anyone even have them?" Padma wondered after atleast an hour of trying to get the horribly boring little things to eat shredded lettuce. It puffed up a little every time she poked it with her nail. She found it quite disgusting, but Luna found them very funny.

When October began, things only got more intolerable. The Quidditch season had been approaching, and Etta, the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, had been determined to get the Quidditch Cup, and set up a meeting Thursday afternoon.

Quidditch had a team of seven people-- three Chasers, two Beaters, a Keeper, and a Seeker. The Chasers are supposed to score goals by putting the Quaffle (a red football-sized ball) through one of the hoops at each end of the field. The Beaters were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers (two heavy balls that tried to attack the players, and a hit to the head by one was certainly not pleasant). The Keeper defended the goal posts from the opposing team's Chasers, and the Seeker's job was to catch the Golden Snitch-- a ball the size of a walnut that gave the Seeker's team a hundred and fifty points. Harry had learned the hard way that being a Seeker was as important as it was troublesome. Fortunately for him, as often as he forgot how the other players were meant to play, he knew quite well his own role in a game.

Etta was a tall, burly-looking seventeen-year-old, yet only in her fifth year. There was a familiar determination in her voice while she spoke to the team in the Ravenclaw common room.

"Alright, you all. This is Penny and Ed's last year at Hogwarts, and this will be as much a chance as any to make this the best seventh year they'll ever have! Quidditch wise, I mean," she said, motioning to Penelope Clearwater and Edward O'Farrely; Penelope was a Chaser, and Edward was one of the Beaters.

"I know that Slytherin's won the Quidditch cup eight or so years in a row-- not counting last year-- and Ravenclaw hasn't won in nearly... fifteen... or so years, but this is our year. We may not have the best luck, or the best brooms, but you know what we have?" Etta asked, cheerful as ever. "We've got the best team in the school. We've got three of the best Chasers I've ever seen in my life,"

She pointed at Penelope, Danial Green, and Steve Malerr.

"Two Beaters as quick as a Snitch on the field,"

She pointed at Roger Davies and Edward.

"The Seeker who's never-ever failed us before!"

She ruffled Harry's hair with a bright smile.

"And we've got me, an amazing Keeper. And this year? It's gonna be our year. Wood isn't going to stop that, Flint isn't going to stop that, and that Hufflepuff, Diggory, whatever his name is-- he sure as hell isn't going to either."

"Our year!" cheered Penelope.

"For Ed and Penny!" Steve said, clapping happily.

Determined to make it a good Quidditch year, Harry's schedule was filled to the very max with three evenings a week of training. The weather had only been getting colder and colder, but unfortunately for Harry, the team hadn't been deterred by it.

He returned to the Ravenclaw common room one evening after practice, thinking about the nice bath he'd take, surprised to find the room buzzing loudly and excitedly.

"What's up with everyone?" He asked, collapsing in the spot on the couch beside Padma, Luna, and Lisa, who had been trying to do their homework.

"First Hogsmeade weekend. Halloween day." Padma answered, and she yawned. "I hate Divination homework," she added, scratching her cheek with her quill tiredly.

"I'm sure you'll be able to go next time, Harry." Luna said, looking at Harry's face. Apparently, only she had noticed his frown.

"Oh, yeah," Padma nodded, unaware of the splotch of ink now on her face. "They'll catch Black in no time. I bet you they're hot on his tracks."

"Yeah, and nothing's gonna happen in Hogsmeade anyway,” Lisa said. “Black escaped Azkaban, he's not stupid. I doubt he'd go for where the people are. It’s common knowledge that if you’re running from the law, you’re not gonna go where they're gonna be-- and, like, again, he escaped Azkaban, so if he’s got smarts, he’s probably got a bit of sense--"

Harry couldn't help but yawn while he agreed. He wasn’t paying total attention to whatever she was saying, but it sounded right. He really wanted to take a hot bath and head straight to bed, but he had an abundance of homework that needed to be done.

"You can copy some of mine, if you like. I've got tons done already." Lisa insisted, but he declined.

"As much as I hate doing homework, I signed up for this."

It was a silently frustrating couple of minutes before Hermione stormed into the common room, holding Crookshanks.

"What's wrong, Mione?" Harry asked, rolling up his Charms homework.

"Ronald thinks that Crookshanks 'has it out' for his stupid rat! It's alright Crookshanks, I know you're an angel," She said, cooing.

"He's never said anything about Hydrus, even though he’s clearly got it out for him," said Harry confusedly, and she nodded at him.

Padma suddenly faked a laugh. "Yes, hello Hermione, nice to see you too-- no, I don't happen to know how you got into our common room? Which now has a password? Which you shouldn't know?"

"Well, it wasn't very hard-- Harry, hold Crookshanks for a moment-- since I overheard a first year struggling to say it. What kind of password is 'essentialism?'" Hermione answered, taking a couple rolls of parchment out her bag. "You don't mind if I do my homework here, do you?"

"I mean, 'course not. Don't get why you'd want to do your homework, it's all real boring, but you're welcome to." Lisa answered, drifting to sleep, propping her legs up across Padma's lap.

“You know there’s a table right there, right?” Padma scoffed.

“Yes, but a table isn’t nearly as sturdy as your super amazing legs,” said Lisa in a very high pitched voice. “Like, how come you walk so much and never get tired? It’s so cool, right, Luna?”

Luna nodded, and Padma had gone so red she seemed to have forgotten that she was angry.

The next day, after a particularly long Arithmancy lesson, Harry decided he'd bring it up with Professor McGonagall after class. Professor Flitwick was his head of House, but McGonagall was Deputy Headmistress. And Harry had spent very long doing things for the school... certainly she'd have some compassion for him, even if slight?

When he had gotten to the Transfiguration with Padma, there was a disturbance in the line to the classroom. Lavender Brown seemed to be crying-- Parvati had her arm around her and was explaining something to two of their housemates, the three of them looking very serious.

“What’s happening?” said Hermione from behind them. She was joined by Draco and Ron, who were glaring at eachother as if something had happened.

“Yeah, what’s happening?” said Padma, and she shook Parvati’s shoulder. “Parv, what’s the matter with her?”

“She got a letter from home this morning,” said Parvati delicately. “It’s her bunny, Binky-- he was killed by a fox.”

None of them said anything except for Hermione. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Lavender.”

“I- I should’ve - known!” Lavender sobbed. She was normally pretty, but she currently looked quite the opposite, holding her tear-streaked face. “Y- y- you know wh- w- what day it i-is?”

“Er, yes, it’s--”

“The si- sixteenth of- of- o- of October!" Lavender could hardly speak, whimpering through sniffles and gasps, “‘Tha- that thing you’re dreading, it will happen on the- th- the sixteenth of October!’ R- r- remember? She was- she was right-- she was right!”

The whole class had gathered around now. Hermione hesitated, humming, and bit her lip. “Er- y- you were dreading Binky being killed by fox? That’s... oddly... specific.”

“W-well,” Lavender sniffled, looking up with streaming eyes. “No- not by a- a fox. But I was- obviously dreading him-- d- d-dying, wasn’t I?”

“Oh,” Hermione gasped lightly. She didn’t look very sympathetic, pausing again. “Was Binky an old bunny?”

“NO!” Lavender shrieked. She was looking very harassed that Hermione even asked. “H- h- he was only a b- a- baby!”

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender’s shoulders, gesturing at Hermione to stop.

“But why would you dread him dying?”

Harry was sure it was starting to get a bit out of hand.

“I mean, logically, he didn’t even die today. You only got the news today--” Lavender wailed loudly, going red in the face. “-- and she can’t have been dreading learning about Binky dying. You dreaded his death-- learning about it isn’t the same--”

"Mione, I think that’s enough," Harry said loudly, and she looked at him and frowned. "What? Mione, he was her pet."

"I know, Harry, I’m just saying--"

"I know what you’re saying, but--"

"Don’t mind Hermione, Lavender," said Ron, and he patted her shoulder. "Hermione doesn’t think a whole ton of other people’s pets. I bet Binky was great."

Her face went even redder as she nodded, still sniffling. 

The door opened at that moment, which was very lucky, Harry thought-- gave him a chance to not argue with Hermione, and also gave him a bit of time to stop pretending it really mattered to him-- Binky was hardly his own concern, but Hermione was being rude about it. And he had other things to think about-- particularly, what he was going to say to Professor McGonagall.

Yet, when the bell rung at the end of class, he still didn’t know what to say. To his surprise, however, she had brought up the topic on her own.

“One moment, please!” she called as the class gathered their things. “Remember to hand in Hogsmeade permission forms before Halloween. No form, no visiting the village-- so don’t forget!”

Neville raised his hand.

“Professor, I, er, think I’ve lost--”

“I already have yours, Longbottom,” said Professor McGonagall coolly. “Your grandmother imagined it may be best to have it sent directly. Well, that’s all. You may leave.”

Harry gathered up his things as slowly as he could and waited for the rest of the class to leave, then headed for Professor McGonagall’s desk.

"Professor," he called out. She looked up at him but didn't say a word.

"My aunt and uncle forgot to sign my form... with all that happened," he continued, slightly wishing he took more time to think about it. She looked over her square spectacles to look him in the eyes and still said nothing.

"and I was wondering-- er- is there any chance I could still go?"

Professor McGonagall looked down and sighed, shuffling papers.

"I'm afraid not, Potter," she said. "Surely you weren’t paying that little attention. No form, no visiting the village. That's the rule."

"Yes, I- I heard, but, Professor, my aunt and uncle, they're... really unaware of magic, and they don't understand Hogwarts and... Hogsmeade... I mean, if you said I could go--"

"But I don't say so, Potter," Professor McGonagall said, piling the papers neatly into a drawer. "The form clearly states that the parent or guardian must give permission." She turned to look at him with what was unmistakably pity. He recognised it very well, and it seemed to burn a hole in his stomach, coming from her. "I'm sorry, Potter, but no is my final word. Now, go on along-- I don't need you in my class while I'm not here."

There was nothing more he could do.

"There's always the feast," Ron assured him when he said what’d happened.

"I- I'll stay back with you, Harry." Hermione said hesitantly. “Hogsmeade will still be there next year.”

"Thanks," said Harry dully, "but you can go. I’ll probably just stay in bed too."

What good was anything on Halloween, even Hogsmeade? His headache was driving him mad, and the constant remembrance of the Dementors being just outside reminded him nearly every day of his parents. The parents he hadn’t been with in over ten years, since Halloween.

"I bet I could forge your aunt's signature," said Lisa hopefully. “What is she, a house-wife? They’ve all got that loopy, diagonal cursive, it’ll be so easy.”

"He's already told Professor McGonagall it hasn't been signed, weren't you listening?" Draco said. "And his aunt's a Muggle, I don't know if you can forge a signature like that. They don't use quills."

"Oh, really? I had no clue,” said Lisa sarcastically. “Not like I spent my life thinking I was a No-maj, totally not. Not like I’ve got pens, or anything."

“What if we obliviated her?” suggested Luna. “She’d have no clue.”

“We are not wiping her memory,” said Ron at once, looking at her sceptically. “What the bloody hell are you thinking about?”

“Nothing,” Luna shrugged, giggling. “Just an idea.”

"We'll bring you back tons of chocolate." Padma promised. “I hear Hogsmeade’s got the good stuff. You know, creme-filled, and with toffee and caramel.”

"I'll get you better clothes too." said Draco with a scrunched up nose. His face didn’t go pink like it used to, but it was still hilarious, and for a split moment, it made Harry feel better.

"You don't know my measurements." he grinned.

"I don’t need to,” Draco responded, looking as though he were already scheming. “The charms may not be easy, but they're doable for the right price. I might have to get them by owl-order..."

"It feels weird, seeing you two get along so well," said Ron. "thought you hated eachother in first year. Had that little Wizard's Duel and everything--"

"Yes, I don't like you either, Weasel," hummed Draco. Ron looked at him as though offended.

Come Halloween morning, Harry didn't feel like getting out of bed, feeling increasingly depressed, but forced himself up anyway.

"It's like Padma said-- we'll bring you and Hermione lots of sweets from Hogsmeade," said Ron, and Padma nodded.

"Tons," assured Lisa.

"We'll be fine. You three go on ahead. I bet Malfoy and Luna have already left because you're taking so long." Hermione said, shooing them away.

When everyone going to Hogsmeade had left, the two of them made their way up the marble staircase.

"Where do you want to go?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know." Harry answered. All the corridors begun to look the same.

She sighed. "I don't either. What if we went to see Quinn? Give me a chance to finally meet him."

“I think the first years have classes today.”

“You think?”

“Yes, I think. We had classes.”

“Things could’ve changed since then.”

“Okay, then, we can go look for Quinn. You can on and lead the way, since you apparently know where he is.”

Hermione scoffed, but stepped past him nonetheless. They turned around to go back to the grand staircase, but after turning a corner, they had been face-to-face with Filch.

"What are you two doing?" He snarled suspiciously.

Hermione shrugged, "Nothing."

"Nothing!" spat Filch angrily. "A likely story! Sneaking around, aren't you! Why aren't you two in Hogsmeade buying Stink Pellets and Belch Powder and Whizzing Worms like the rest of your nasty little friends?"

It was Harry's turn to shrug. He hadn't any idea what any of those were anyway.

"Well get back to your common rooms where you belong!"

Harry and Hermione nodded, going back the direction of the marble staircase. But they didn't separate and go for their common rooms- they went for the dungeons.

They descended a staircase and begun to walk down a corridor, when a voice echoed through the air.

"Harry? Hermione?"

Both of them did a sharp turn to see who had spoken-- Professor Lupin had been looking around his office door. Harry could just barely see a bit of red hair from behind him.

"What are you two doing?" He asked, sounding very different from Filch. "Where are the rest of your friends?"

"Hogsmeade," said Hermione simply.

"Ah," said Lupin knowingly. "Well, won't you two come in? I've just taken a delivery of grindylow for our next lesson."

"What's a grindylow?" asked Harry as they entered Lupin's office. A very large tank of water stood in the corner, holding a sickly green creature with sharp little horns which had its face pressed against the glass, pulling faces and stretching its spindly fingers. Quinn was stood before it, trying his best to mimic it. He was having a bit of a hard time, however, and it looked more like he was trying- and struggling- to control his own hands.

"Fascinating," said Hermione, tapping the glass with her finger. Quinn jumped when he noticed her. When he turned around to look at Lupin, he spotted Harry and a very large smile appeared on his face.

“Harry!”

Quinn lunged at him and caught him in a hug. He looked much better than he did the first day-- a bit less pale, and he looked less dazed.

"Oh, you two already know eachother." Lupin smiled.

“Ooh,” Quinn let go of Harry and quickly dashed over to Lupin. “Tell him about the- ger- gri- g-grine--”

“Grindylow,” said Lupin slowly, and Quinn nodded. "Yeah, that thing."

Lupin then looked up to face Harry and Hermione. "He's a water demon. We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, not after the kappas-- the trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle."

The grindylow bared its teeth before burying itself in a tangle of weeds.

"Tea?" Lupin then asked, looking around for his kettle. "I was just thinking of making some. Quinn doesn’t like it very much, but I imagine you two might."

"I think we could do with a bit of tea." Harry agreed, looking at Hermione. She nodded.

Lupin tapped the kettle with his wand and it released a blast of steam from the spout.

"Go on and sit down," Lupin said, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid-- I daresay you've both had enough of tea leaves?"

Hermione and Harry looked at eachother, before looking up at Lupin; His eyes were twinkling.

"How do you know that?" Hermione asked.

"Professor McGonagall told me," said Lupin, passing her and Harry a mug of tea. He summoned a mug for Quinn, which looked to be filled with fruit punch. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No," said Harry, "Draco and Mione both say Divination's a lot of guesswork, and I've got more things to worry about anyway."

He thought of the dog he saw in Magnolia Crescent. It wasn't a Grim, or so he told himself. It couldn't have been a Grim. But it could've. Or maybe it was like what Hermione said; Grims were the cause of death. He wasn't dead anyway.

It seemed some of Harry's thoughts showed on his face, because Lupin asked, "Is something worrying you, Harry?"

"No," Harry lied. Hermione was looking at him, as if asking the same question. He drank some tea, and turned to look at the grindylow brandishing a fist at him. When he looked away from it, the first thing he saw was Quinn looking at him with a frown.

"Yes," he admitted suddenly, dropping the mug on Lupin's desk. He did have a question he still meant to ask. "You know, the day we fought the boggart..."

"Yes," Lupin said slowly, and Hermione nodded.

“Why didn’t you let me fight it?”

Lupin raised his eyebrows wonderingly, and he looked shocked. "I thought that would be quite obvious. I assumed if you had met the boggart, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort. I’ve heard of your meetings with him... and while I don’t think he’d be your biggest fear, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Harry stared, and the only noise was Quinn sipping from his mug. He didn’t think it was an impossible answer-- it was one that made much more sense, he figured, but he was very surprised Lupin had said Voldemort’s name. The only person he’d ever seen say it aloud- aside from himself- was Professor Dumbledore.

"I was wrong, of course, but I suppose it is good either way that he didn’t. I imagine many of your peers have that very fear, and it be best for everyone's sake if they were not given an idea..."

“I thought of the dementors,” said Harry. “I’ve... I-I don’t know. I’ve tried to think of other things, but I can’t. It’s like, knowing they’re even here just gives me... a headache.”

Lupin’s frown got deeper, and he looked very thoughtful. “I’m impressed.” He smiled at the surprise on Harry’s face. “Fearing a dementor most-- that suggests that what you fear most of all is- well, fear. Very wise, Harry. But with the headaches...”

“The dementors are horrible,” said Quinn lowly, and he had begun to look very dazed again. “Madam Pomfrey says the headaches are normal, but she also said they don’t last really long. But they don’t go away. Mum thinks it’s because of my condition.”

“Condition?” Hermione repeated.

Quinn squinted at her, then looked at Harry, then back at her. He looked very sceptical as he asked, “Who are you?”

“Er,” Hermione faltered. “I’m--”

She was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Oh. Come in," called Lupin.

The door flew open, and in came Snape, carrying a smoking goblet. He stopped at the sight of Harry and Quinn and Hermione.

"Ah, Severus," said Lupin, smiling faintly. "Thank you very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

Snape set down the goblet, his eyes wandering between the twins, Quinn, and Lupin.

"I was just showing the children my grindylow," said Lupin pleasantly, pointing at the tank. "It's going to be our next subject in class."

Snape's mouth twitched. "Fascinating. You should drink that directly, Lupin."

“Yes, yes, I will.”

“I’ve made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued, and Harry spotted him glaring at him in particular. “If you need more.”

“I will tomorrow. Thanks very much, Severus.”

“Not at all,” said Snape, but there was a look in his eye that made Harry uneasy. He backed out of the room, unsmiling and still staring.

“So, who are you?” Quinn asked again, and Hermione finally answered. “Hermione. Er, Granger. But there is... a, er, another name. T- that I have.”

Quinn nodded at her, “What is it?”

She gave an unconvincing smile and took a long sip from her mug. “Harmony,” she said quietly, and then repeated it a little louder, “Harmony.”

“Harmony?” Quinn repeated, looking as if he didn’t believe her. He looked between her and Harry again and held Harry’s sleeve. “Uncle Moony?”

“I heard her, Quinn,” Lupin nodded. He took a long moment, glancing between Harry and Hermione before he asked, “If you are Harmony, Hermione, then what happened to your eyes?”

"I wear contacts," said Hermione shortly. “My eyesight is poor, but good glasses were expensive and my mother-- er, adoptive... she thought it'd help, since she wore glasses, and it made it so there was one less reason to get bullied. Muggle children weren't... fond, of glasses, in primary school.”

It was very silent for a couple minutes.

"If I can say,” Hermione blurted when her mug had been empty, eyeing the goblet suspiciously. “Professor Snape's very interested in the dark arts, sir, and some people reckon he'd do anything to be Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher... I just wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you. You're a very good teacher..."

Lupin hummed, taking another sip from the goblet.

“I see where you may think that, but Snape has done this for me for a while now. See, I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex. I only wish sugar didn’t render it useless.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“I’ve been feeling, let’s say, a bit off-colour,” said Lupin. “This potion is all that helps. I am very lucky to work alongside Professor Snape-- there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it, given my situation.”

Quinn let go of Harry’s sleeve and slipped out of his chair. “I think I have to get to... class. Bye, Uncle Moony- bye, Harry.” He took a second glance at Hermione and hesitantly waved before disappearing down the corridor.

“What is...” started Hermione, and Lupin looked up at her. “What’s his condition?”

“Well,” said Lupin, “we’re not entirely sure. It started when he was born. He had trouble doing some things without help- and not just as a baby. He couldn’t do much without someone doing it with him, as a toddler, as a child.... Some words, he really can’t say, or- he has a hard time making his limbs move how he wants them to. Over time, it’s gotten better, but he still has his... moments. If you asked me, I think being around magic so much has made some bits of it worse... but, Muggle children are... undeniably brutal.”

“Oh, aren't they,” Hermione frowned. Harry stared into his mug.

“How did you find out?” asked Lupin, as he finally drained the goblet. It was still smoking, even though empty.

“Er,” Harry shrugged. He wanted to tell Lupin of Sirius's letters... and by the look on Hermione's face, she had the same idea. But neither of them said it; Harry was amazed when he spoke, “It... she, er, didn't have her contacts on and I figured it meant something. We did a bit of digging, and-- well.”

"Brilliant,” Lupin shook his head, smiling. “You're just like Regulus was- always finding this or that. You know, I recognised you immediately, Harry. Not by your scar-- your eyes. Their colour, of course... exactly like your mother's-‐ Lily's. I knew her quite well, too."

He took a long look at them. 

"I thought you were very alike when I first saw you side-by-side... but I couldn't place why." he paused, smiling. "You both remind me a lot of Lily especially." He took on a reminiscent look. "She was there for me at a time when nobody else was. She was not just a singularly gifted woman, yet uncommonly kind. She saw the beauty in everyone and everything. And perhaps most especially in people who couldn't see it in themselves..."

He trailed off once more, taking on a glazed look.

“And James, he,” Lupin took a moment to laugh. “He had a talent for trouble, shall we say. He was the boldest man I’d ever met-- and he was truly brilliant, deep down. Very... deep down. But it took a lot to make him mean. And then Regulus-- Regulus, Regulus, Regulus. Truthfully, he... was nothing but brilliance. Though he hardly used any of it- he’d spent so long doing what he thought he was supposed to do that he didn’t suffer the consequences until your parents changed his life. Until you two.”

Harry was suddenly reminded of his first year, when he’d found the Mirror of Erised. He was almost tempted to say he’d seen them before-- that he’d seen their parents, and even Hermione and Quinn before he knew it was them... but he struggled to find the words.

“It may be time I get back to work,” said Lupin, and he collected their empty cups. “I’ll see you both at the feast later.”

“Right.” Hermione said lowly. “At the feast.”

"This is all we could get," Ron said, as they all dropped a multicoloured mountain of candy between Harry and Hermione. "All that we could carry. Someone didn't want to help us." He added, eyeing Draco.

"No, no, he did! See, he brought that whole chocolate pile for Harry because he has favourites, and we all know who!" Padma said sarcastically, pointing at a corner of the candy pile, which indeed had all been chocolate. "Oh, wait, no-- you're so secretive, Malfoy, really, I wonder, who, out of us, you would- ever- get candy for! What a mystery!"

Lisa stared at her, wide-eyed and her jaw slack. "It's not that serious." 

"And, if I do have a favourite?" Draco shrugged, picking up a pack of salt water taffy. “I did what I did. So, I got him a load of chocolate. What's to it?”

"Er, Malfoy's obsession aside," started Hermione, popping a piece of bubble gum in her mouth. "Just where did you all even go?"

By the sounds of it, they had gone everywhere. Dervish and Banges, Zonko's Joke Shop, The Three Broomsticks, and many places otherwise.

"I got a bit of butterbeer to-go-- it really warms you up," Lisa said, handing them both bottles filled to the brim with a yellow, fizzing liquid. “I think it works way better when you’re cold, but it’s so good!”

"Did you two get any work done?" asked Padma, snacking on toffee.

"I wish-- we've got tons of homework we need to be doing." Hermione said. "We were with Professor Lupin and Quinn... he made us a cup of tea-- and then Snape came in and..."

She told them all about the goblet. Somewhere along the explanation, Hydrus slithered up to them, dragging along his tail, which had been balled up tightly. How the snake managed to get around Hogwarts unnoticed with his size was unbeknownst to Harry.

"Hydrus, what are you holding?" Harry asked quietly.

"A new toy," Hydrus responded cheerfully, squeezing whatever he had been holding tighter. It gave a weak squeal. From what Harry could see, a rat was trying it’s best to free itself.

"That doesn't answer my question, Hydrus."

"Of course it does."

"Does not."

"Does."

"Doesn’t."

"Floppy! What are you and Hydrus hissing back and forth about?" Draco asked, snapping his fingers before Harry's eyes.

"He won't tell me what he's holding," said Harry. "Says it's a 'new toy,' but then doesn't say what the toy is. For all I know, he’s caught someone’s pet!"

“It’s probably not a good pet if it got caught,” Draco muttered, and Hydrus hissed approvingly, curling around his feet. “Bad pet, bad pet!”

“So it is someone’s pet!”

“No.”

Harry dropped his face to his hands. “You know what, Draco- since you’re apparently so agreeable, Hydrus is your snake now.”

“What? I’m not take care of your snake for you. I can’t--"

"You can-- you just don't want to, which is why I'm telling you're going to."

"Oh, don't be a git--"

"Then don't be a prat!"

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"Would you stop cutting me off--"

"I'm not cutting you off if you're pausing--"

"Would you both stop?" Luna said, very seriously. "It's been a very nice day and it's going to stay a nice day! Cousin, as much as you don't want to agree, you wouldn't care in the slightest if you had to take care of-- oh, what's his name, Harry?"

"Hydrus."

"Hydrus! You loved snakes when we were younger, you know plenty about them."

Draco took one long glance at Harry and then scoffed. "Fine, I wouldn't mind, but it's your bloody snake one way or another."

"I know that."

"Don't sound so smug about it."

"You first."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Good grief, you two are like children!" Lisa exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Let's just go to the feast so you have a good reason to stop arguing about it!"

The Great Hall had been decorated so thoroughly that it almost made Harry forget why he was annoyed. Hundreds and hundreds of candle-filled pumpkins, live, fluttering bats, and many orange streamers gliding along the stormy ceiling. The food was delicious, and even Lisa and Luna, who’d been stuffed with candy and sweets, couldn't help but get second helpings.

It didn't pass Harry's notice that Snape's eyes were continuously flickering toward Professor Lupin, who had looked cheerful as ever, talking with Professor Flitwick.

The feast ended with the Hogwarts ghosts providing entertainment-- they popped in and out of the walls and tables constantly; The Grey Lady, the Ravenclaw ghost, had been very silent, but it hadn't soured any moods. Her presence made the better part of Ravenclaw table go quiet, as if mesmerised-- reasonably, of course, seeing as she rarely ever showed up outside the Welcoming and End-of-Term feasts.

Once the candy and deserts had disappeared from the tables, Harry, Luna, Padma, and Lisa walked with the rest of the Ravenclaws up the stairs, heading for the Ravenclaw Tower, but when they arrived to the corridor, they realised that it had been jammed with students; There were still more people coming up the stairs, surprisingly. Harry tried his best to look over heads before him, and tried to listen past the people screaming out the password. The door had yet to open. Infact, it looked like the Eagle knocker hadn't even asked for it.

"Quiet!" shouted a voice Harry recognised as Penelope's. "Oh- excuse me-- coming through here-- sorry there, babes-- quiet down! We don't need the whole school hearing our password, alright--" but then she went silent; A chill spread down the corridor. When Penelope spoke again, it was in a sharp voice, much unlike her usual soft tone, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quickly."

Many people's heads turned; The younger students and the ones at the back of the crowd had been standing on their toes.

“What’s happening? What’s happening?” asked Anthony, and he nearly knocked into Lisa trying to peer over the crowd.

Only a moment later, Dumbledore came sweeping towards them-- everyone tried their best to stand back and let him through.

"It's gone!" said a squeaky little voice from the far back.

The Eagle knocker was nowhere to be seen, and the door had been slashed so violently that there were thick chunks of wood on the floor.

Dumbledore took a single look at the door and turned, his eyes sombre, to see Professors McGonagall, Lupin, Snape, and Flitwick hurrying towards him.

"We need to find it," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go tell Mr Filch and all round up the ghosts at once and tell them all to search the highest places in the castle that they can."

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice.

Peeves the Poltergeist appeared, bobbing over the crowd delightedly, like he always did at the sight of wreckage or worry.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" asked Dumbledore calmly, and Peeves's grin faded ever so slightly. The only one he'd never taunt was Dumbledore. Instead, he took on an oily voice no better than his cackle. "Flew far and high, Your Headship, sir. Couldn't see where it was going. A mess, that knocker. Flew into everythin' on the way, up on the sixth floor, sir, heading for the highest place it could. Probably flew out a window and went straight into the sky. Didn't know it could speak anything but riddles and questions ‘til I heard it squawking something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor, poooor thing," he added, with a poorly hidden cackle.

"Did it say who did it?" asked Dumbledore silently.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," said Peeves as if withholding the most important information in the world. "He got very angry when he learned the knocker wasn't doing riddles anymore, you see, roaring about snakes and ratty traitors..." Peeves flipped over and grinned largely at Dumbledore between his own legs. "Nasty-- reaaal nasty temper he's got, that SiriusBlack."