An American At Hogwarts: Book Three

Chapter Forty-Six

SLAP!

I frowned, my spoon full of oatmeal frozen halfway on its path to my mouth, as I stared at the newspaper that had just been smacked down on the table in front of me. I glanced at the front page briefly, then turned around to find Jackson hovering over me with a grim expression on his face.

If he'd voluntarily come over to the Gryffindor table, rather than waiting for me to catch his signal from across the room, I knew it was bad.

At least we'd gotten one peaceful day of school yesterday to start our week before whatever new chaos decided to hit the fan today.

I sighed and turned my attention back to the paper, but before I could read anything, Jackson leaned in over my shoulder to whisper in my ear.

"I'm not hanging around the Gryffindor table while you read this," he started. I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn't see it. "When you're done, give me a wave on your way out of the Great Hall if you want to talk."

I scoffed and shot him a look, but he was already walking back to his table. I wanted to protest a little harder, but he actually knew me well enough that he was probably right about what my reaction would be once I'd read whatever this was.

Heart-warming and incredibly annoying at the same time.

I sighed, then turned my attention back to the paper in front of me. The portraits of ten wizards leered back at me, and a bold headline read:

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN - MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS

I clenched my fist at the headline, letting my eyes go back to scanning the pictures of the escapees. I didn't recognize any of their faces, of course, but I did my best to commit them to memory. I'd need to be on high alert now, along with everyone else. The grim worry warred in my chest with the irritation that they continued to blame Sirius. I took a breath, and apparently Jackson wasn't the only friend that knew me well. Angelina leaned in a little on my left, putting our shoulders together without breaking her conversation with George, and Lee gave my arm a little squeeze. I read on.

The Ministry of Magic Announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

I did a double-take at that, since I didn't realize the Prime Minister was in on the magic secret, but at least the general public would be on the lookout for these people, too.

"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person to ever break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."

The only thing keeping me from balling up the paper and hucking it across the room was the pictures on the front page, which I wanted to save for Ana so she could commit them to memory and scan for them whenever we went out. As it was, I had to stop reading the paper at the end of Fudge's quote as a red haze overtook my vision. Of course, rather than acknowledging the Voldemort problem and doing anything productive, they continued to brush it off and blame Sirius.