𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ;𝐑.𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

"Do you want to get caught?"

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was standing behind the bar, serving drinks. "That's Madam Rosmerta. I'll get the drinks, shall I?" Ron said, going slightly red.

A small wave of jealousy washed over Rachelle, and she had to remind herself that Madam Rosmerta was much too old for Ron.

Hermione, Rachelle and Harry went to a table in the corner and five minutes later Ron returned with four steaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
"Happy Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

A sudden breeze ruffled their hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked.
Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pub in a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak: Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic.
In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table. Dripping with Butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move towards the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards him.

Rachelle whispered, 'Mobiliarbus!'

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, drifted sideways and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense branches, the four friends watched them pull out chairs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and Minister as they sat down.

Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.
'A small Gillywater –'
'Mine,' said Professor McGonagall's voice.
'Four pints of mulled mead –'
'Ta, Rosmerta,' said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella –'
'Mmm!' said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.
'So you'll be the redcurrant rum, Minister.'
'Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear,' said Fudge's voice. 'Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us ...'
'Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Ron continued sipping at his butterbeer, making Rachelle stare at him. He put it down.

Hermione looked worried that they would stay until the end of the Hogsmeade trip. Harry still needed time to get back to Honeydukes and then the castle.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?' came Madam Rosmerta's voice.
Fudge's thick body twisted in his chair as though he was checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in a quiet voice, 'What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Hallowe'en?'
'I did hear a rumour,' admitted Madam Rosmerta.

'Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?' said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly.
'Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.
'I'm sure of it,' said Fudge shortly.

'You know that the Dementors have searched my pub twice?' said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. 'Scared all my customers away ... it's very bad for business, Minister.'
'Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do,' said Fudge uncomfortably. 'Necessary precaution ... unfortunate, but there you are ... I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore – he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"I should think not,' said Professor McGonagall sharply. 'How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?'
'Hear, hear!' squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet were dangling a foot from the ground.

'All the same,' demurred Fudge, 'they are here to protect you all from something much worse ... we all know what Black's capable of ...'
'Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,' said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. 'Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought ... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead.'