Chapter 10
Jinx flopped into an empty chair at the Gryffindor table, grabbing a roll straight from Ron’s plate without asking. He barely had time to squawk in protest before she tore a bite out of it and spoke around a mouthful of bread.
“I’m trying out for Ravenclaw’s Quidditch team on Saturday.”
There was a brief moment of stunned silence. Then,
“What?!” Hermione’s voice shot up an octave, eyes wide with horror.
Ron choked on his pumpkin juice. “You, you’re flying?” He coughed, then added in a slightly strangled voice, “With a bat?”
Harry, who had been halfway through a bite of his own food, groaned and dragged a hand down his face. “Who told you what a Beater was?”
Jinx smirked, looking far too pleased with herself. “Your tiny Charms professor also known as my wonderful Head of House.”
“The traitor,” Harry muttered under his breath.
Across the table, Fred and George’s heads snapped up in unison, identical grins spreading across their faces.
“Hold on-” Fred started.
“-You’re trying out as a Beater?” George finished.
Jinx nodded.
The twins turned to each other, their grins somehow widening even further.
“Oh, this is brilliant,” Fred declared.
“Absolutely fantastic,” George agreed.
“You do know that Beaters are supposed to protect their team and not just-” Hermione gestured vaguely, “-cause mayhem, right?”
Jinx shrugged. “Sounds fake.”
Ron made a strangled sound. “Jinx, the whole point is to hit the Bludgers away from your teammates, not to just launch them at people for fun!”
Jinx’s smirk only grew.
Fred and George beamed at her approvingly.
“I like her,” Fred announced.
“She’s got the right instincts,” George agreed. “Reckless, dangerous-”
“-no sense of self-preservation-”
“-and an absolute menace. Perfect Beater material.”
Jinx gave them a sharp-toothed grin, clearly taking this as the highest form of praise.
Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands.
Harry just sighed. “I hope everyone has good insurance.”
The Gryffindors trudged up the many staircases, full from dinner and ready to collapse into their warm beds. The Great Hall had been buzzing with its usual chatter, and for once, everything had felt normal.
That sense of normalcy shattered the moment they reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.
“What the, ?” Ron stopped short, nearly making Harry bump into him.
The Fat Lady’s portrait was gone.
Or rather, it had been shredded. The once-grand painting lay in tatters, claw marks raking through the canvas like a wild beast had torn through it. The golden frame remained, but it now held only the ruined remains of her image.
A horrified murmur spread through the gathered students.
“Where is she?” Hermione whispered, scanning the scene frantically. “The Fat Lady never leaves her post, she can’t leave her post!”
Harry’s stomach twisted uneasily. He was about to step forward when a high-pitched cackle echoed from above.
“Ohhh, what a show that was!”
Peeves the Poltergeist was lounging lazily in the air, spinning in slow circles like he was floating in an invisible hammock. His wicked little grin stretched ear to ear.
“What happened?” Percy demanded, pushing past the younger students. “Peeves, where is she?”
Peeves did a joyful loop in the air. “Ohhh, she ran away, she did! Such a coward, oh, but who wouldn’t be, when faced with him?”
A cold weight settled in Harry’s gut. “Who?”
Peeves gave a theatrical gasp and clutched at his chest. “Oh, you mean you haven’t heard? My, my, the Boy Who Lived is slow on the uptake, isn’t he?”
“Peeves,” Percy snapped, “who attacked The Fat Lady?”
The poltergeist flipped onto his back, arms crossed behind his head, and smirked down at them.
“Why, Sirius Black, of course!”
The name hit the students like a thunderclap. A ripple of fear swept through them, eyes widening in shock, nervous whispers hissing between them.
“Black?” Ron croaked, face paling. “He, he was here?”
“Right there,” Peeves confirmed, pointing lazily at the ruined portrait. “Oh, he was furious! The Fat Lady wouldn’t let him in, no password, no entry, you know the rules! And, ohhhh, did he hate that answer!” Peeves’ smile grew cruel. “So, he slashed at her! Tore right through her canvas, rrrip, rip, rip! What a performance!”
Hermione clutched at Harry’s arm, her grip tight.
Percy turned, his face tight with worry. “We need to find a teacher. Now.”
Before anyone could move, a voice cut through the tension.
“What is all this racket?”
Dumbledore’s tall figure emerged at the top of the staircase, his expression sharp as he took in the destruction before him. Behind him, Professors McGonagall and Snape arrived, their faces grim.
“The students will need to sleep elsewhere tonight,” Dumbledore said after a moment, surveying the frightened crowd. His voice was calm, but his blue eyes burned with an intensity that made even Peeves go quiet.
“Black was here,” McGonagall muttered, her lips thin and pale.
Snape’s gaze flickered to Harry, unreadable and dark.
A deep unease settled over them all.
Sirius Black had been inside Hogwarts. And he had been trying to get into Gryffindor Tower.
The students were herded into the Great Hall in a churning mass of nerves and confusion. They had pushed the house tables aside, and a stern-looking Professor McGonagall handed out thick sleeping bags, constantly glancing toward the doors as though daring Sirius Black to try anything.
“Everyone, remain calm,” Dumbledore’s voice rang out over the unsettled murmurs. He stood at the front of the room, his presence commanding but reassuring. “You are perfectly safe. Your professors and I will be conducting a thorough search of the castle, and no harm will come to you this night.”
There was a ripple of hushed whispers.
“Black was inside the castle,” Ron muttered as he flopped onto his sleeping bag. “He could be anywhere.”
“Shh!” Hermione hushed him, her expression pinched. “Dumbledore is handling it. We just have to stay here and-” She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing suspiciously at Jinx, who was hunched over near a cluster of Ravenclaw students, fiddling with something.
Harry, already exhausted, sighed. “Jinx. What are you doing?”
Jinx grinned at him over her shoulder. “Science.”
That was never a good answer.
Before anyone could stop her, a long, wet noise echoed through the hall.
Pppppppbbbt!
Another followed it. And another. And another.
Within seconds, the Great Hall was filled with a chorus of impressively varied fart sounds, ranging from short, squeaky toots to truly horrifying rumbles. Students shrieked and scrambled out of their sleeping bags in horror, their heads whipping around in confusion.
“WHO DID THAT?!”
“IT WASN’T ME!”
“OH GROSS!”
Across the hall, Malfoy and his goons stood frozen in horrified disbelief as another particularly long and shameful noise emerged from somewhere within Crabbe’s sleeping bag. His face went beet red.
Even McGonagall looked momentarily startled, her lips pressing together so tightly they nearly disappeared.
Jinx, looking far too pleased with herself, plopped onto her sleeping bag and leaned back on her elbows. “Muggle fart machines,” she explained to no one in particular. “Brilliant things. You hide them, wait, and boom, chaos.”
Fred and George, who had been inspecting their own mysteriously rumbling sleeping bags, turned toward her with identical expressions of pure admiration.
“Jinx,” Fred said solemnly.
“You are an artist,” George finished, his voice filled with reverence.
Dumbledore, to everyone’s shock, let out a quiet chuckle before clearing his throat and schooling his expression back into neutrality. “Now, now, let us all settle in. It seems we are in no immediate danger, unless one considers an overabundance of flatulence a threat.”
The hall dissolved into laughter. Even the most terrified students seemed to breathe a little easier, their fear momentarily replaced by amusement.
Jinx just grinned and stretched out on her sleeping bag.
Mission accomplished.
As the last of the students settled into an uneasy sleep, the Great Hall gradually quieted, save for the occasional rustling of blankets and soft murmurs. The enchanted torches flickered low, casting long shadows over the sleeping forms of Hogwarts’ students.
Jinx lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her fingers idly drumming against the edge of her pillow. Beside her, Harry was just as awake, shifting restlessly in his sleeping bag. Their whispered conversation had dwindled into companionable silence, neither quite willing to close their eyes just yet.
That was when they heard it.
A low murmur of voices.
Jinx subtly tilted her head, her sharp hearing catching the distinct tone of Severus Snape’s voice from the entrance of the hall.
“-utterly foolish to assume he had no help,” Snape was saying, his voice quiet but intense. “The castle is locked down. The wards are intact. And yet Black managed to get inside undetected. You cannot seriously believe he did it alone.”
Harry stiffened beside her, and she knew he was listening too.
There was a pause before Dumbledore’s calm, measured voice replied, “There is no evidence to suggest an accomplice within Hogwarts, Severus. The students are safe, and Black has not been found within the castle. The matter will be investigated thoroughly, but panic will do us no favors.”
Snape made a sharp noise of frustration. “You are too trusting.”
“And you are too quick to see shadows where there are none.”
Harry clenched his jaw at the dismissive tone, and Jinx felt an odd flash of vindication on Snape’s behalf. The man clearly knew something wasn’t right, but Dumbledore was brushing him off as though he were merely being paranoid.
“This was not a simple mistake, Headmaster,” Snape continued, voice tight with controlled anger. “Sirius Black is dangerous. He will not stop until he gets what he wants. And what he wants is Potter.”
Harry exhaled sharply, while Jinx shot him a look that said, Oh, lovely. Another person trying to kill you.
Dumbledore sighed. “I am well aware of the situation, Severus. But unless you have proof-”
“The fact that he was here should be proof enough,” Snape snapped. “He knew where to go, he knew when to strike, and he knew the Fat Lady would deny him entrance. This was planned.”
A pause. Then, in a voice far too calm for the situation, Dumbledore said, “We will discuss this further in my office. For now, the children are safe. That is what matters.”
Their footsteps faded as they moved away, leaving Harry and Jinx in the quiet darkness once more.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then Jinx rolled onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow. “Sooo,” she whispered. “You’ve got an escaped convict out for your blood, your Headmaster is useless, and Sevvy.”
Harry groaned, rubbing his face. “Welcome to my life.”
Jinx smirked. “I don’t think I like it.”
Harry huffed a quiet laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He turned onto his back, staring at the high ceiling, the weight of everything pressing heavy on his chest. Sirius Black was in the castle. Someone had helped him.
And the Headmaster wasn't going to do anything about it.