Ron, Y/n and Hermione watched Harry nervously all through dinner, not daring to talk about what they'd overheard, because Percy was sitting close by them. When they went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits.
Harry, who didn't want Fred and George asking him whether he'd reached Hogsmeade or not, sneaked quietly up to the empty dormitory leaving Ron, Y/n and Hermione behind in the common room.
"We should give him a moment first then check up on him." Y/n said looking up to the dormitory steps.
"Poor Harry..." Hermione said worried about their friend.
"I knew Black was mental...but to betray his best mate." Ron muttered.
Harry headed straight for his bedside cabinet. He pushed his books aside and quickly found what he was looking for, the leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of his mother and father. He sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around him, and started turning the pages, searching, until ... He stopped on a picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry had inherited standing up in all directions. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there... that must be him. Their best man. Harry had never given him a thought before.
If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. His face wasn't sunken and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter. Had he already been working for Voldemort when this picture had been taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years in Azkaban, twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?
But the Dementors don't affect him, Harry thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face. He doesn't have to hear Harry's Mum screaming if they get too close...
Harry slammed the album shut, reached over and stuffed it back into his cabinet, took off his robe and glasses and got into bed, making sure the hangings were hiding him from view.
The dormitory door opened.
"Harry?" said Ron's voice uncertainly.
"Are you awake?" Y/n tried to ask but Harry lay still, pretending to be asleep.
Ron looked at Y/n who shook his head and the two left.
Harry rolled over on his back, his eyes wide open.
A hatred such as he had never known before was coursing through Harry like poison. He could see Black laughing at him through the darkness, as though somebody had pasted the picture from the album over his eyes. He watched, as though somebody was playing him a piece of film, Sirius Black blasting Peter Pettigrew into a thousand pieces. He could hear (though having no idea what Black's voice might sound like) a low, excited mutter. "It has happened, My Lord. . . the Potters have made me their Secret-Keeper" and then came another voice, laughing shrilly, the same laugh that Harry heard inside his head whenever the Dementors drew near...
"Did you speak to him?" Hermione asked Y/n and Ron as they returned to the common room.
Ron just shook his head.
"He is either asleep or does not want to talk tonight." Y/n said as he sat down in the chair next to Hermione's. "Something we shall have to respect."
"We can't just do nothing." Ron sitting down on the last available chair.
"Of course not Ron." Hermione said.
"For now we should try to make this an enjoyable holiday for Harry. Try to take his mind off this news." Y/n said to the two.
"I agree." Hermione nodded.
"There is something else we need to worry about too..." Y/n pointed out
.
It was the late in the morning when Y/n heard Ron say. "Harry, you...you look terrible."
Y/n looked up to see Harry who hadn't gotten to sleep until daybreak. The common room was completely empty except for Ron, who was eating a Peppermint Toad and massaging his stomach while Y/n and Hermione, had spread their homework over three tables.
"Where is everyone?" said Harry.
"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime, I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."
Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks and Noctis were spread out in front of the fire like two large ginger and black rugs.
"You really don't look well, you know." Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.
"I'm fine." said Harry.
"Harry, listen." said Hermione, exchanging a look with Y/n. "You must be really upset about what we heard yesterday. But the thing is, you mustn't go doing anything stupid."
"Like what?" said Harry.
"Like trying to go after Black." said Y/n sharply.
Harry could tell they had rehearsed this conversation while he had been asleep. He didn't say anything.
"You won't, will you, Harry?" said Hermione.
"Because Black's not worth dying for." said Ron now.
Harry looked at them. They didn't seem to understand at all. "D'you know what I see and hear every time a Dementor gets too near me?"
Y/n grimaced remembering what Harry had said in their conversation with Lupin but Ron and Hermione shook their heads, looking apprehensive.
"I can hear my mum screaming and pleading with Voldemort. And if you'd heard your mum screaming like that, just about to be killed, you wouldn't forget it in a hurry. And if you found out someone who was supposed to be a friend of hers betrayed her and sent Voldemort after her..."
"Harry, I understand why you feel this way, I really do. But there is nothing you can do." Y/n told him.
"The Dementors will catch Black and he'll go back to Azkaban and ...and serve him right!" Hermione added.
"You heard what Fudge said. Black isn't affected by Azkaban like normal people are. It's not a punishment for him like it is for the others."
"So what are you saying?" said Ron, looking very tense. "You want to....to kill Black or something?"
Y/n watched Harry's face.
"Don't be silly," said Hermione in a panicky voice. "Harry doesn't want to kill anyone, do you, Harry?"
"Malfoy knows," Harry said abruptly. "Remember what he said to me in Potions? 'If it was me, I'd hunt him down myself... I'd want revenge.'"
"You're going to take Malfoy's advice instead of ours?" said Ron furiously. "Listen... you know what Pettigrew's mother got back after Black had finished with him? Dad told me, the Order of Merlin, First Class, and Pettigrew's finger in a box. That was the biggest bit of him they could find. Black's a madman, Harry, and he's dangerous..."
"Malfoy's dad must have told him." said Harry, ignoring Ron. "He was right in Voldemort's inner circle..."
"Say You Know Who, will you?" interjected Ron angrily.
"...so obviously, the Malfoys knew Black was working for Voldemort."
"and Malfoy'd love to see you blown into about a million pieces, like Pettigrew! Get a grip. Malfoy's just hoping you'll get yourself killed before he has to play you at Quidditch." Ron told him now.
"Harry, please." said Hermione, her eyes now shining with tears. "Please be sensible. Black did a terrible, terrible thing, but d...don't put yourself in danger, it's what Black wants..."
"Harry, you would be playing right into Black's hands if you went looking for him. Your mother and father would never want you to get hurt, would they? They would never want you to go looking for Black!" Y/n tried to reason with him.
"I'll never know what they'd have wanted, because thanks to Black, I've never spoken to them," said Harry shortly.
There was a silence in which Y/n just rubbed his eyes with frustration and Crookshanks stretched luxuriously flexing his claws. Ron's pocket quivered.
"Look." said Ron, obviously casting around for a change of subject. "It's the holidays! It's nearly Christmas! Let's...let's go down and see Hagrid. We haven't visited him for ages!"
"No!" said Hermione quickly. "Harry isn't supposed to leave the castle, Ron..."
"Yeah, let's go." said Harry, sitting up, "and I can ask him how come he never mentioned Black when he told me all about my parents!"
Further discussion of Sirius Black plainly wasn't what Ron had had in mind. "Or we could have a game of chess." he said hastily, "or Gobstones. Percy left a set..."
"No, let's visit Hagrid." said Harry firmly.
So they got their cloaks from their dormitories and set off through the portrait hole.
"Stand and fight, you yellow-bellied mongrels!" They heard Sir Cadogan cry as they walked forwards down through the empty castle and out through the oak front doors.
They made their way slowly down the lawn, making a shallow trench in the glittering, powdery snow, their socks and the hems of their cloaks soaked and freezing. The Forbidden Forest looked as though it had been enchanted, each tree smattered with silver, and Hagrid's cabin looked like an iced cake.
Ron knocked, but there was no answer.
"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.
Ron had his ear to the door. "There's a weird noise." he said. "Listen...is that Fang?"
Y/n and Hermione put their ears to the door too. From inside the cabin came a series of low, throbbing moans.
"Think we'd better go and get someone?" said Ron nervously.
"Hagrid!" called Harry, thumping the door. "Hagrid, are you in there?"
There was a sound of heavy footsteps, then the door creaked open. Hagrid stood there with his eyes red and swollen, tears splashing down the front of his leather vest.
"You've heard?" he bellowed, and he flung himself onto Harry's neck.
Hagrid being at least twice the size of a normal man, this was no laughing matter. Harry, about to collapse under Hagrid's weight, was rescued by Ron, Y/n and Hermione, who each seized Hagrid under an arm and heaved him back into the cabin. Hagrid allowed himself to be steered into a chair and slumped over the table, sobbing uncontrollably, his face glazed with tears that dripped down into his tangled beard.
"Hagrid, what is it?" said Hermione aghast.
Y/n spotted an official-looking letter lying open on the table. "Is this the cause of your distress Hagrid?" He asked.
Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter toward Y/n, who picked it up and read aloud.
"Dear Mr. Hagrid,
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a Hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident."
"Well, that's okay then, Hagrid!" said Ron, clapping Hagrid on the shoulder. But Hagrid continued to sob, and waved one of his gigantic hands, inviting Y/n to read on and so he did.
"However, we must register our concern about the Hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself and your Hippogriff at the Committee's offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the Hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated.
Yours in fellowship..."
There followed a list of the school governors.
"Oh." said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad Hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off."
"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" choked Hagrid, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. "They've got it in fer interestin' creatures!"
A sudden sound from the corner of Hagrid's cabin made Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione whip around. Buckbeak the Hippogriff was lying in the corner, chomping on something that was oozing blood all over the floor.
"I couldn' leave him tied up out there in the snow!" choked Hagrid. "All on his own! At Christmas."
"You are to kind for this world Hagrid..." Y/n said to him.
"You'll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid." said Hermione, sitting down and laying a hand on Hagrid's massive forearm. "I'm sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe."
"Won' make no diff'rence!" sobbed Hagrid. "Them Disposal devils, they're all in Lucius Malfoy's pocket! Scared o' him! Ad if I lose the case, Buckbeak..."
Hagrid drew his finger swiftly across his throat, then gave a great wail and lurched forward, his face in his arms.
"What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?" said Harry.
"He's done more'n enough fer me already." groaned Hagrid. "Got enough on his plate what with keepin' them Dementors outta the castle, an' Sirius Black lurkin' around."
Ron, Y/n and Hermione looked quickly at Harry, as though expecting him to start berating Hagrid for not telling him the truth about Black. But Harry couldn't bring himself to do it, not now that he saw Hagrid so miserable and scared.
"Listen, Hagrid," Harry said. "You can't give up. Hermione's right, You just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses..."
"I would gladly defend Buckbeak." Y/n offered.
"I'm sure I've read about a case of Hippogriff-baiting." said Hermione thoughtfully. "Where the Hippogriff got off. I'll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened."
Hagrid howled still more loudly. Y/n and Hermione looked at Ron to help them.
"Er...shall I make a cup of tea?" said Ron.
Harry just stared at him.
"It's what my mum does whenever someone's upset." Ron muttered, shrugging.
At last, after many more assurances of help, with a steaming mug of tea in front of him, Hagrid blew his nose on a handkerchief the size of a tablecloth and said, "Yer right. I can' afford to go ter pieces. Gotta pull meself together..."
Fang the boarhound came timidly out from under the table and laid his head on Hagrid's knee.
"I've not bin meself lately." said Hagrid, stroking Fang with one hand and mopping his face with the other. "Worried abou' Buckbeak, an' no one likin' me classes --"
"We do like them!" lied Hermione at once.
"Yeah, they're great!" said Ron, crossing his fingers under the table. "Er...how are the flobberworms?"
"Dead," said Hagrid gloomily. "Too much lettuce. "
"Oh no!" said Ron, his lip twitching.
"An' them Dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an' all." said Hagrid, with a sudden shudder. "Gotta walk past 'em ev'ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. 'S like bein' back in Azkaban..."
Y/n lurched in his seat slightly at the mention of Azkaban and it didn't go unnoticed by Hermione.
Hagrid fell silent, gulping his tea. Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione watched him breathlessly. They had never heard Hagrid talk about his brief spell in Azkaban before. After a pause, Hermione looked at Y/n from the corner of her eye and asked timidly. "Is it awful in there, Hagrid?"
"Yeh've no idea." said Hagrid quietly. "Never bin anywhere like it. Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind... the day I got expelled from Hogwarts... day me dad died... day I had ter let Norbert go... "
His eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the baby dragon Hagrid had once won in a game of cards.
"Yeh can' really remember who yeh are after a while. An' yeh can' really see the point o' livin' at all. I used ter hope I'd jus' die in me sleep. When they let me out, it was like bein' born again, ev'rythin' came floodin' back, it was the bes' feelin' in the world. Mind, the Dementors weren't keen on lettin' me go."
"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.
Hagrid snorted. "Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."
Hagrid went quiet for a moment, staring into his tea. Then he said quietly, "Thought o' jus' letting Buckbeak go...tryin' ter make him fly away...but how d'yeh explain ter a Hippogriff it's gotta go inter hidin'? An'...an' I'm scared o' breakin' the law... " He looked up at them, tears leaking down his face again. "I don' ever want ter go back ter Azkaban. "
The trip to Hagrid's, though far from fun, had nevertheless had the effect Ron, Y/n and Hermione had hoped. Though Harry had by no means forgotten about Black, he couldn't brood constantly on revenge if he wanted to help Hagrid win his case against the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures.
He, Ron, Y/n and Hermione went to the library the next day and returned to the empty common room laden with books that might help prepare a defense for Buckbeak. The four of them sat in front of the roaring fire, slowly turning the pages of dusty volumes about famous cases of marauding beasts, speaking occasionally when they ran across something relevant.
"Here's something... there was a case in 1722... but the Hippogriff was convicted, ugh, look what they did to it, that's disgusting..."
"Poor thing." Y/n said sadly looking at it.
"This might help, look, a Manticore savaged someone in 1296, and they let the Manticore off! Oh...no, that was only because everyone was too scared to go near it..."
Meanwhile, in the rest of the castle, the usual magnificent Christmas decorations had been put up, despite the fact that hardly any of the students remained to enjoy them. Thick streamers of holly and mistletoe were strung along the corridors, mysterious lights shone from inside every suit of armor, and the Great Hall was filled with its usual twelve Christmas trees, glittering with golden stars. A powerful and delicious smell of cooking pervaded the corridors, and by Christmas Eve, it had grown so strong that even Scabbers poked his nose out of the shelter of Ron's pocket to sniff hopefully at the air.
On Christmas morning, Y/n was woken by Ron throwing his pillow at him.
"Oy! Presents!"
Y/n groaned and sat up in his bed to see Harry reaching for his glasses and putting them on. Y/n yawned as he saw a small heap of parcels had appeared at the foot of his bed.
Ron was already ripping the paper off his own presents. "Another sweater from Mum...maroon again... see if two got one. "
Y/n looked to see indeed had a present from Mrs. Weasley. She had sent him a silver sweater with the Gryffindor lion knitted on the front, also a dozen home-baked mince pies, some Christmas cake, and a box of nut brittle.
Harry had received similar gifts from Mrs Weasley the only difference being that his sweater was scarlet red. Harry saw a long, thin package lying underneath.
"What's that?" said Ron, looking over, a freshly unwrapped pair of maroon socks in his hand.
"Dunno..." Harry ripped the parcel open and gasped as a magnificent, gleaming broomstick rolled out onto his bedspread.
Ron dropped his socks and jumped off his bed for a closer look. "I don't believe it." he said hoarsely.
It was a Firebolt, identical to the dream broom Harry had gone to see every day in Diagon Alley during his stay there. Its handle glittered as Harry picked it up. He could feel it vibrating and let go, it hung in midair, unsupported, at exactly the right height for him to mount it. His eyes moved from the golden registration number at the top of the handle, right down to the perfectly smooth, streamlined birch twigs that made up the tail.
"Harry who sent it to you?" Y/n asked as he looked at the broom.
"Look and see if there's a card." said Harry.
Ron ripped apart the Firebolt's wrappings. "Nothing! Blimey, who'd spend that much on you?"
"Well." said Harry, feeling stunned. "I'm betting it wasn't the Dursleys."
"I bet it was Dumbledore." said Ron, now walking around and around the Firebolt, taking in every glorious inch. "He sent you the Invisibility Cloak anonymously..."
"That belonged to Harry's father though Ron." said Y/n. "Dumbledore was just passing it on to him. He cannot spend hundreds of Galleons on a student. He would be accused of favouritism."
"That's why he wouldn't say it was from him!" said Ron. "That way some git like Malfoy or Atticus can't say it was favoritism. Hey, Harry..." Ron gave a great whoop of laughter ."Malfoy! Wait 'til he sees you on this! He'll be sick as a pig! This is an international standard broom, this is!"
"I can't believe this." Harry muttered, running a hand along the Firebolt, while Ron sank onto Harry's bed, laughing his head off at the thought of Malfoy.
Y/n still looked at the broom with caution." But who..."
"I know," said Ron, controlling himself, "I know who it could've been...Lupin!"
"What?" said Harry, now starting to laugh himself. "Lupin? Listen, if he had this much gold, he'd be able to buy himself some new robes."
"Yeah, but he likes you." said Ron. "And he was away when your Nimbus got smashed, and he might've heard about it and decided to visit Diagon Alley and get this for you --"
"What d'you mean, he was away?" said Harry. "He was ill when I was playing in that match. "
"Well, he wasn't in the hospital wing." said Ron. "I was there, cleaning out the bedpans on that detention I got from Snape in potions."
Harry frowned at Ron. "I can't see Lupin affording something like this."
"What're you laughing about?" Hermione had just come in, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.
"Don't bring him in here!" said Ron, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pajama pocket.
But Hermione wasn't listening. She dropped Crookshanks onto Seamus's empty bed and stared, open-mouthed, at the Firebolt. "Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"
"No idea." said Harry. "There wasn't a card or anything with it."
To his great surprise, Hermione did not appear either excited or intrigued by the news. On the contrary, her face fell, and she bit her lip.
"What's the matter with you?" said Ron.
"I don't know" said Hermione slowly, "but it's a bit odd, isn't it? I mean, this is supposed to be quite a good broom, isn't it?"
Ron sighed exasperatedly. " You sound like Y/n, It's the best broom there is, Hermione." he said.
"So it must've been really expensive..." Hermione began.
"Probably cost more than all the Slytherins' brooms put together." said Ron happily.
"Well...who'd send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even tell him they'd sent it?" said Hermione.
Y/n nodded his head in agreement with her point. "See. It is suspicious."
"Who cares?" said Ron impatiently. "Listen, Harry, can I have a go on it? Can I?"
"I don't think anyone should ride that broom just yet!" said Hermione shrilly.
Harry and Ron looked at her.
"What d'you think Harry's going to do with it...sweep the floor?" said Ron.
But before Hermione could answer, Crookshanks sprang from Seamus's bed, right at Ron's chest.
"GET... HIM...OUT...OF...HERE!" Ron bellowed as Crookshanks's claws ripped his pajamas and Scabbers attempted a wild escape over his shoulder. Ron seized Scabbers by the tail and aimed a misjudged kick at Crookshanks that hit the trunk at the end of Harry's bed, knocking it over and causing Ron to hop up and down, howling with pain.
"Do not kick the cat Ron!" Y/n said annoyed.
Crookshanks's fur suddenly stood on end. A shrill, tinny, whistling was filling the room. The Pocket Sneakoscope had become dislodged from Uncle Vernon's old socks and was whirling and gleaming on the floor.
"I forgot about that!" Harry said, bending down and picking up the Sneakoscope. "I never wear those socks if I can help it..."
The Sneakoscope whirled and whistled in his palm. Crookshanks was hissing and spitting at it.
"You'd better take that cat out of here, Hermione." said Ron furiously, sitting on Harry's bed nursing his toe. "Can't you shut that thing up?" he added to Harry as Hermione strode out of the room, Crookshanks's yellow eyes still fixed maliciously on Ron.
Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back inside the socks and threw it back into his trunk. All that could be heard now were Ron's stifled moans of pain and rage. Scabbers was huddled in Ron's hands. It had been a while since Y/n had seen him out of Ron's pocket, and he was surprised to see that Scabbers, once so fat, was now very skinny, patches of fur seemed to have fallen out too.
"He's not looking too good, is he?" Harry said also looking at Scabbers.
"It's stress!" said Ron. "He'd be fine if that big stupid furball left him alone!"
But Y/n, remembering what the woman at the Magical Menagerie had said about rats living only three years, couldn't help feeling that unless Scabbers had powers he had never revealed, he was reaching the end of his life. And despite Ron's frequent complaints that Scabbers was both boring and useless, he was sure Ron would be very miserable if Scabbers died.
Christmas spirit was definitely thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him. Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers. Y/n and Harry gave up trying to make them talk to each other and Harry devoted himself to examining the Firebolt, which he had brought down to the common room with him. For some reason this seemed to annoy Hermione as well. She didn't say anything, but she kept looking darkly at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat.
Her mood only slightly improved when Y/n returned from a trip to his dormitory with a small parcel in his hand. He sat down in his chair as he handed out the parcel to her.
"Merry Christmas Hermione. It is my hope these will help you with the amount of reading ahead of you." He quietly said to her.
Hermione looked down at the parcel as she began to unwrap it now to find a dozen set of sterling silver Bookmarks, each one encrusted with different tiny gems.
"They're beautiful..." Hermione said looking at them in shock.
"And they are magically enchanted to never move from your page unless you want them too." Y/n told her.
Y/n watched as Hermione turned each one over in her hands and admired them. "Are they alrig.." he asked her but his question was interrupted by Hermione leaning over in her seat and giving him a hug.
"I love them Y/n. Thank you." Hermione said gratefully.
Y/n just sat shocked for a moment before he smiled and returned her hug.
At lunchtime the four went down to the Great Hall, to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again, and that a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, one extremely nervous-looking first year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.
"Merry Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables. . . Sit down, sit down!"
Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione sat down side by side at the end of the table.
"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witches hat topped with a stuffed vulture.
Harry, remembering the Boggart, caught Ron's eye and they both grinned. Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.
"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.
As Y/n was helping himself to some turkey and roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.
"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.
"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster." said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice. "And to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness..."
"Certainly, certainly." said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair."
And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down, her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.
"I dare not, Headmaster! If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky! Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"
Y/n just rolled his eyes with a quiet groan.
"We'll risk it, Sibyll," said Professor McGonagall impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."
Professor Trelawney hesitated, then lowered herself into the empty chair, eyes shut and mouth clenched tight, as though expecting a thunderbolt to hit the table. Professor McGonagall poked a large spoon into the nearest tureen.
"Tripe, Sibyll?"
Professor Trelawney ignored her. Eyes open again, she looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"
"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again." said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."
"But surely you already knew that, Sibyll?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyebrows raised.
Professor Trelawney gave Professor McGonagall a very cold look.
"Certainly I knew, Minerva." she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."
"That explains a great deal," said Professor McGonagall tartly.
Professor Trelawney's voice suddenly became a good deal less misty.
"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him..."
"Imagine that." said Professor McGonagall dryly.
Y/n began to have a look of disappointment upon his face. Of all the teachers he had been though during his time at Hogwarts Lupin was easily his favourite. He hoped that Professor Trelawney was just attempting to show off.
"I doubt." said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end to Professor McGonagall and Professor Trelawney's conversation. "That Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made the potion for him again?"
"Yes, Headmaster." said Snape.
"Good." said Dumbledore. "Then he should be up and about in no time...Derek, have you had any of the chipolatas? They're excellent. "
The first-year boy went furiously red on being addressed directly by Dumbledore, and took the platter of sausages with trembling hands.
Professor Trelawney behaved almost normally until the very end of Christmas dinner, two hours later. Full to bursting with Christmas dinner and still wearing their cracker hats, Harry, Y/n and Ron got up first from the table and she shrieked loudly. "My dears! Which of you left his seat first? Which?"
"Dunno," said Ron, looking uneasily at Y/n and Harry.
"I believe it was me." Y/n said.
"I doubt it will make much difference." said Professor McGonagall coldly. "Unless a mad axe man is waiting outside the doors to slaughter the first into the Entrance Hall."
Even Ron laughed. Professor Trelawney looked highly affronted.
"Are you coming?" Y/n said to Hermione.
"No." Hermione muttered. "I want a quick word with Professor McGonagall."
Y/n brow furrowed as wondered what she would want to talk about with Professor McGonagall but decided not to pry.
"Probably trying to see if she can take any more classes." yawned Ron as they make their way into the Entrance Hall, which was completely devoid of mad axe-men.
When they reached the portrait hole they found Sir Cadogan enjoying a Christmas part with a couple of monks, several previous headmasters of Hogwarts and his fat pony. He pushed up his visor toasted them with a flagon of mead.
"Merry...hic...Christmas! Password?"
"Scurvy cur." said Ron.
"And the same to you, sir!" roared Sir Cadogan, as the painting swung forward to admit them.
Harry went straight up to the dormitory, collected his Firebolt and the Broomstick Servicing Kit Hermione had given him for his birthday, brought them downstairs and tried to find something to do with the Firebolt, however, there where no bent twigs to clip, and the handle was so shiny already it seemed pointless to polish it. He and Ron simply sat admiring it from every angle, until the portrait hole opened, and Hermione came in, accompanied by Professor McGonagall.
Though Professor McGonagall was Head of Gryffindor House, They had only seen her in the common room once before, and that had been to make a very grave announcement. Y/n, Harry and Ron stared at her, with Ron an Harry both holding the Firebolt. Hermione walked around them, sat down in a chair next to Y/n, picked up the nearest book and hid her face behind it.
"So that's it, is it?" said Professor McGonagall beadily, walking over to the fireside and staring at the Firebolt. "Miss Granger has just informed me that you have been sent a broomstick, Potter."
Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her book, which was upside-down.
"May I?" said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No." said Harry blankly.
"I see..." said Professor McGonagall. "Well, I'm afraid I will have to take this, Potter."
"W...what?" said Harry, scrambling to his feet. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes." said Professor McGonagall. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down..."
"Strip it down?" repeated Ron, as though Professor McGonagall was mad.
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks." said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx free."
"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "Honestly, Professor..."
"You can't know that, Potter." said Professor McGonagall, quite kindly. "Not until you've flown it, at any rate, and I'm afraid that is out of the question until we are certain that it has not been tampered with. I shall keep you informed."
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel and carried the Firebolt out of the portrait hole, which closed behind her. Harry stood staring after her, the tin of High-Finish Polish still clutched in his hands.
Ron, however, rounded on Hermione. "What did you go running to McGonagall for?"
Hermione threw her book aside. She was still pink in the face, but stood up and faced Ron defiantly.
"Because I thought... and Professor McGonagall agrees with me... that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"
"How on earth would Sirius Black afford to send Harry a broom? He's been in Azkaban for twelve years!" Ron pointed out.
"Actually, it is not impossible Ron." Y/n said getting up from his chair now to stand in-between Harry, Ron and Hermione. "The Black family was once one of the most prominent wizarding families. Black could very easily have a vault filled with gold." Y/n told Harry and Ron.
"Of course you take her side." Ron said angrily.
Y/n just crossed his arms and looked at Ron. "Meaning?"
"You always take Hermione's side." Ron said again now.
"Because she usually is right about these things." Y/n said. "Hermione is just worried for Harry's safety, she did not tell Professor McGonagall to spite you both. None of us knows who sent that broom and with what intention. If having a broom is more important than our friendships than take my Nimbus 2000 until you get your Firebolt back Harry." Y/n offered now.
"It's not the same Y/n." Harry replied and Y/n just scoffed as he sat back down.
"Come on Harry..." Ron said as he turned away from the common room and headed up to their dormitory with Harry following.