Daughter of a Criminal

The Marauders Map

Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Ann in the hospital wing for the rest of the weekend. She didn't argue or complain, but she wouldn't let Madam Pomfrey throw away the shattered remnants of her Nimbus Two Thousand. She knew she was being stupid, knew that the Nimbus was beyond repair, but Ann couldn't help it; she felt as though she'd lost one of her best friends. She had a stream of visitors, all intent on cheering her up. Ginny, turned up with a 'get well' card she had made herself, which sang 'Get Well!' when you opened it. The Gryffindor team visited again on Sunday morning, this time accompanied by Wood, who told Ann, in a hollow, dead sort of voice, that he didn't blame her in the slightest. Harry, Ron, and Hermione only left Ann's bedside at night. But nothing anyone said or did could make Ann feel any better, because they only knew half of what was troubling her. She hadn't told anyone about the black shaggy dog that weirdly resembled the dog on her necklace, not even Harry, Ron and Hermione, because she knew Harry would be confused, Ron would panic thinking it was the Grim and Hermione would scoff. And then there were the Dementors. Ann felt sick and humiliated every time she thought of them. Everyone said the Dementors were horrible, but no one else collapsed every time they went near one, but it was some comfort that Harry had also collapsed once as well. On top of all that Ann dozed even more fitfully, sinking into dreams full of clammy, rotted hands and petrified pleading, jerking awake only to dwell again on the sound of her mother's voice.
It was a relief to return on Monday to the noise and bustle of the main school, where she was forced to think about other things, even if she had to endure Draco Malfoy's taunting. Malfoy was almost beside himself with glee at Gryffindor's defeat. He had finally taken off his bandages, and celebrated having the full use of both arms again by doing spirited imitations of Ann falling off her broom. Malfoy spent much of their next Potions class doing Dementor imitations across the dungeon; Ron finally cracked, flinging a large, slippery crocodile heart at Malfoy, which hit him in the face and caused Snape to take fifty points from Gryffindor.
'If Snape's taking Defence Against the Dark Arts again, I'm going off sick,' said Ron, as they headed towards Lupin's classroom after lunch.
'Check who's in there, Hermione.' said Ann. Hermione peered around the classroom door. 'It's OK!' Hermoine cheered. Professor Lupin was back at work. It certainly looked as though he had been ill. His old robes were hanging more loosely on him and there were dark shadows beneath his eyes; nevertheless, he smiled at the class as they took their seats, and they burst at once into an explosion of complaints about Snape's behaviour while Lupin had been ill. 'It's not fair, he was only filling in, why should he set us homework?' 'We don't know anything about werewolves â€"' 'â€" two rolls of parchment!'
'Did you tell Professor Snape we haven't covered them yet?' Lupin asked, frowning slightly. The babble broke out again. 'Yes, but he said we were really behind â€"' 'â€" he wouldn't listen â€"' 'â€" two rolls of parchment!' Professor Lupin smiled at the look of indignation on every face.
'Don't worry. I'll speak to Professor Snape. You don't have to do the essay.'
'Oh no,' said Hermione, looking very disappointed. 'I've already finished it!'
'Of course you have,' said Ann, Ron and Harry chuckled. They had a very enjoyable lesson. Professor Lupin had brought along a glass box containing a Hinkypunk, a little one-legged creature who seemed as though he was made of wisps of smoke, rather frail and harmless-looking.
'Lures travellers into bogs,' said Professor Lupin, as they took notes. 'You notice the lantern dangling from his hand? Hops ahead â€" people follow the light â€" then â€"' The Hinkypunk made a horrible squelching noise against the glass. When the bell rang, everyone gathered up their things and headed for the door, Ann amongst them, but â€"
'Wait a moment, Ann,' Lupin called, 'I'd like a word.' Ann doubled back and watched Professor Lupin covering the Hinkypunk's box with a cloth. 'I heard about the match,' said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, 'and I'm sorry about your broomstick. Is there any chance of fixing it?'
'No,' said Ann. 'The tree smashed it to bits.' Lupin sighed.
'They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.'
'Did you hear about the Dementors, too?' said Ann with difficulty. Lupin looked at her quickly.
'Yes, I did. I don't think any of us have seen Professor Dumbledore that angry. They have been growing restless for some time … furious at his refusal to let them inside the grounds … I suppose they were the reason you fell?'
'Yes,' said Ann. She hesitated, 'But Harry's also fainted,' said Ann trying to make herself seem tougher. And then the question she had to ask burst from her before she could stop herself. 'Why? Why do they affect me and Harry like that? Am I just â€"?'
'It has nothing to do with weakness,' said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Ann's mind. 'The Dementors affect you and Harry worse than the others because there are horrors in your pasts that the others don't have.' A ray of wintry sunlight fell across the classroom, illuminating Lupin's grey hairs and the lines on his young face. 'Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can't see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself â€" soulless and evil. You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. It's enough to make anyone fall off their broom. But you, Ann I don't know what you saw but y-
'It was my mom, I saw someone, do the Crucio curse on her,' said Ann
'Ahh yes,' Lupin said looking thoughtful as though he was remembering something painful
'Professor, I'm not-it's just the did the curse on her so much she died from insanity, I'm surprised I survived the encounter,' said Ann
'You have nothing to feel ashamed of Ann, though I wonder who-' said Lupin.
'My uncle Mason, it was his sister after all,' said Ann
'Masons still-well still you have no reason to be ashamed,' said Lupin. There was a moment's silence; then â€"
'Why did they have to come to the match?' said Ann bitterly.
'They're getting hungry,' said Lupin coolly, shutting his briefcase with a snap. 'Dumbledore won't let them into the school, so their supply of human prey has dried up … I don't think they could resist the large crowd around the Quidditch pitch. All that excitement … emotions running high … it was their idea of a feast.'
'Azkaban must be terrible,' Ann muttered. Lupin nodded grimly.
'The fortress is set on a tiny island, way out to sea, but they don't need walls and water to keep the prisoners in, not when they're all trapped inside their own heads, incapable of a single cheerful thought. Most of them go mad within weeks.'
'I know Mason told me about it, but what worries me is that Sirius Bla- my dad escaped from them,' Ann said slowly. 'He got away …' Lupin's briefcase slipped from the desk; he had to stoop quickly to catch it.
'Yes,' he said, straightening up. 'Black must have found a way to fight them. I wouldn't have believed it possible … Dementors are supposed to drain a wizard of his powers if he is left with them too long …'
'You made that Dementor on the train back off,' said Ann suddenly.
'There are â€" certain defences one can use,' said Lupin. 'But there was only one Dementor on the train. The more there are, the more difficult it becomes to resist.'
'What defences?' said Ann at once. 'Can you teach me and Harry?'
'I don't pretend to be an expert at fighting Dementors, Annâ€" quite the contrary …'
'But if the Dementors come to another Quidditch match, me and Harry need to be able to fight them â€"' Lupin looked into Ann's determined face, hesitated, then said,
'Well … all right. I'll try and help. But it'll have to wait until next term, I'm afraid. I have a lot to do before the holidays. I chose a very inconvenient time to fall ill.' What with the promise of Anti-Dementor lessons from Lupin, as Ann had told Harry who agreed to join her whole heartedly. The thought that she might never have to hear her mother being tortured to death again, and the fact that Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their Quidditch match at the end of November, Ann's mood took a definite upturn despite her dad still being on the loose. Gryffindor were not out of the running after all, although they could not afford to lose another match. Wood became repossessed of his manic energy, and worked his team as hard as ever in the chilly haze of rain that persisted into December. Ann saw no hint of a Dementor within the grounds. Dumbledore's anger seemed to be keeping them at their stations at the entrances. Two weeks before the end of term, the sky lightened suddenly to a dazzling, opaline white and the muddy grounds were revealed one morning covered in glittering frost. Inside the castle, there was a buzz of Christmas in the air. Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, had already decorated his classroom with shimmering lights that turned out to be real, fluttering fairies. The students were all happily discussing their plans for the holidays. Ann, Ron and Hermione had decided to remain at Hogwarts, and though Ann said it was cause her uncle was busy with work, and Ron said it was because he couldn't stand two weeks with Percy, and Hermione insisted she needed to use the library, Harry wasn't fooled; they were doing it to keep him company, and he was very grateful. To everyone's delight except Ann and Harry's, there was to be another Hogsmeade trip on the very last weekend of term.
'We can do all our Christmas shopping there!' said Hermione. 'Mum and Dad would really love those Toothflossing Stringmints from Honeydukes!' Resigned to the fact that they would be the only third-years staying behind again, Ann borrowed a copy of Which Broomstick from Wood, and decided to spend the day reading up on the different makes. She had been riding one of the school brooms at team practice, an ancient Shooting Star, which was very slow and jerky; she definitely needed a new broom of her own. On the Saturday morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Harry and Ann bid goodbye to Ron and Hermione, who were wrapped in cloaks and scarves, then turned up the marble staircase talking about ways to keep themselves busy, and headed back towards Gryffindor Tower. Snow had started to fall outside the windows, and the castle was very still and quiet beside their talking.
'Psst â€" Harry, Ann!' The two turned, halfway along the third-floor corridor, to see Fred and George peering out at them from behind a statue of a humpbacked, one-eyed witch.
'What are you doing?' said Harry curiously.
'How come you're not going to Hogsmeade?' Ann asked
'We've come to give you a bit of festive cheer before we go,' said Fred, with a mysterious wink. 'Come in here …' He nodded towards an empty classroom to the left of the one-eyed statue. Harry and Ann followed Fred and George inside. George closed the door quietly and then turned, beaming, to look at Harry and Ann who were both equally confused.
'Early Christmas present for you, two,' he said. Fred pulled something from inside his cloak with a flourish and laid it on one of the desks. It was a large, square, very worn piece of parchment with nothing written on it. Harry and Ann, who was suspecting one of Fred and George's jokes, stared at it.
'What's that supposed to be?' Harry asked
'A piece of parchment,' Ann suggested
'This, Harry, Ann is the secret of our success,' said George, patting the parchment fondly. 'It's a wrench, giving it to you two,' said Fred, 'but we decided last night, your need's are greater than ours.'
'Anyway, we know it off by heart,' said George. 'We bequeath it to you both.
'As long as you can share,' said Fred
'We don't really need it any more.' finished George
'And what do either of us need with a bit of old parchment?' said Harry.
'Yeah I mean it's all old and crumpled,' said Ann
'A bit of old parchment!' said Fred, closing his eyes with a grimace as though Harry and Ann had both mortally offended him. 'Explain, George.'
'Well … when we were in our first year, Harry, Ann â€" young, carefree and innocent â€"' Harry and Ann both snorted. Ann doubted whether Fred and George had ever been innocent. 'â€" well, more innocent than we are now â€" we got into a spot of bother with Filch.'
'We let off a Dungbomb in the corridor and it upset him for some reason â€"'
'So he hauled us off to his office and started threatening us with the usual â€"'
'â€" detention â€"'
'â€" disembowelment â€"'
'â€" and we couldn't help noticing a drawer in one of his filing cabinets marked Confiscated and Highly Dangerous.'
'Don't tell me â€"'said Harry, starting to grin.
'Oh they definitely did,' said Ann rolling her eyes
'Well, what would you've done?' said Fred. 'George caused a diversion by dropping another Dungbomb, I whipped the drawer open and grabbed â€" this.'
'It's not as bad as it sounds, you know,' said George. 'We don't reckon Filch ever found out how to work it. He probably suspected what it was, though, or he wouldn't have confiscated it.'
'And you know how to work it?' Harry asked
'Oh yes,' said Fred, smirking. 'This little beauty's taught us more than all the teachers in this school.'
'You're winding me up,' said Harry,
'Me too,' said Ann, looking at the ragged old bit of parchment.
'Oh, are we?'said George. He took out his wand, touched the parchment lightly and said, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.' And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that George's wand had touched. They joined each other, they criss-crossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed: Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present THE MARAUDER'S MAP. It was a map showing every detail of the Hogwarts castle and grounds. But the truly remarkable thing was the tiny ink dots moving around it, each labelled with a name in minuscule writing. Astounded, Harry and Ann bent over it. A labelled dot in the top left corner showed that Professor Dumbledore was pacing his study; the caretaker's cat, Mrs Norris, was prowling the second floor, and Peeves the poltergeist was currently bouncing around the trophy room. And as Ann and Harry's eyes travelled up and down the familiar corridors, she noticed something else. This map showed a set of passages she had never entered. And many of them seemed to lead â€"
'Right into Hogsmeade,' said Fred, tracing one of them with his finger. 'There are seven in all. Now, Filch knows about these four â€"' he pointed them out, 'â€" but we're sure we're the only ones who know about these. Don't bother with the one behind the mirror on the fourth floor. We used it until last winter, but it's caved in â€" completely blocked. And we don't reckon anyone's ever used this one, because the Whomping Willow's planted right over the entrance. But this one here, this one leads right into the cellar of Honeydukes. We've used it loads of times. And as you might've noticed, the entrance is right outside this room, through that one-eyed old crone's hump.'
'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs,' sighed George, patting the heading of the map. 'We owe them so much.'
'Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers,'said Fred solemnly. 'Right,'said George briskly, 'don't forget to wipe it after you've used it â€"'
'â€" or anyone can read it,' Fred said warningly. 'Just tap it again and say, 'Mischief managed!' And it'll go blank.'
'So, young Harry, young Ann,' said Fred, in an uncanny impersonation of Percy, 'mind you behave yourself.'
'See you in Honeydukes,' said George, winking. They left the room, both smirking in a satisfied sort of way. Harry and Ann stood there, gazing at the miraculous map.
'Well?' Ann asked
'Well what?'
'Let's go to Honeydukes,' said Ann. Harry traced the secret passage to Honeydukes with his finger. Then, quite suddenly, as though following orders, he rolled up the map, stuffed it inside his robes, and hurried to the door of the classroom Ann close behind him. He opened it a couple of inches. There was no one outside. Very carefully, the two edged out of the room and slipped behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. What did they have to do? Harry pulled out the map again and Ann saw, to her astonishment, that two new ink figures had appeared upon it, one labelled 'Harry Potter' and the other 'Anastasia Black'. These figures were standing exactly where the real Harry and Ann were standing, about halfway down the third-floor corridor. Harry and Ann watched carefully. Harry quickly took out his real wand and tapped the statue. Nothing happened. He looked back at the map. The tiniest speech bubble had appeared next to Ann's figure. The word inside said 'Dissendium'. 'Dissendium!' Harry whispered, tapping the stone witch again. At once, the statue's hump opened wide enough to admit a fairly thin person. Harry and Ann glanced quickly up and down the corridor, then tucked the map away again, hoisted himself into the hole headfirst, and pushed himself forwards. Ann slid in after him. She slid a considerable way down what felt like a stone slide, then landed on cold, damp earth. Ann stood up, looking around. It was pitch dark. She held up his wand, muttered,
'Lumos!' and saw that she was in a very narrow, low, earthy passageway with Harry.
'Funny seeing you here,' Harry joked, who also had his wand lit. Harry then raised the map, tapped it with the tip of his wand and muttered, 'Mischief managed!' The map went blank at once. Harry folded it carefully, tucked it inside his robes, then, he set off Ann close behind him. The passage twisted and turned, more like the burrow of a giant rabbit than anything else. Harry and Ann hurried along it, stumbling now and then on the uneven floor, Harry catching Ann once or twice, making both of them go red. It took ages, but Harry and Ann had the thought of Honeydukes to sustain them. After what felt like an hour, the passage began to rise. Panting, the two sped up, Ann's face hot, her feet very cold. Ten minutes later, they came to the foot of some worn, stone steps which rose out of sight above the pair. Careful not to make any noise, Harry and Ann began to climb. A hundred steps, two hundred steps, Ann lost count as he climbed, watching her feet … then, without warning, Harry stopped abruptly.
'What?' Ann whispered
'It's a trap door,'
'Well open it,' said Ann. Very slowly, he pushed the trapdoor open and peered over the edge. He was in a cellar which was full of wooden crates and boxes. Harry climbed out of the trapdoor and helped Ann out before he replaced it â€" it blended so perfectly with the dusty floor that it was impossible to tell it was there. Harry and Ann crept slowly towards the wooden staircase that led upstairs. Now she could definitely hear voices, not to mention the tinkle of a bell and the opening and shutting of a door. Wondering what they ought to do, Ann suddenly heard a door open much closer at hand; somebody was about to come downstairs.
'And get another box of Jelly Slugs, dear, they've nearly cleaned us out â€"'said a woman's voice. A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Harry leapt behind an enormous crate grabbing Ann, and the two waited for the footsteps to pass. They heard the man shifting boxes against the wall opposite. Quickly and silently, Harry and Ann dodged out from their hiding place and climbed the stairs; looking back, Ann saw an enormous backside and a shiny bald head buried in a box. Harry reached the door at the top of the stairs, slipped through it, Ann right behind him, and found himself behind the counter of Honeydukes â€" he grabbed Ann's hand so as not to lose her. Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that no one looked twice at Harry and Ann. They edged amongst them, looking around. There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-looking sweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pink squares of coconut ice, fat, honey-coloured toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel of Every Flavour Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizzbees, the levitating sherbert balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet another wall were 'Special Effects' sweets: Droobles Best Blowing Gum (which filled a room with bluebellcoloured bubbles that refused to pop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tiny black Pepper Imps ('breathe fire for your friends!'), Ice Mice ('hear your teeth chatter and squeak!'), peppermint creams shaped like toads ('hop realistically in the stomach!'), fragile sugar-spun quills and exploding bonbons. Harry and Ann squeezed themselves through a crowd of sixth-years and saw a sign hanging in the furthest corner of the shop ('Unusual Tastes'). Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a tray of blood-flavoured lollipops. Harry and Ann sneaked up behind them.
'Urgh, no, neither Harry or Ann won't want one of those, they're for vampires, I expect,' Hermione was saying.
'How about these?'said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Cluster under Hermione's nose. 'Definitely not,' said Harry.
"I would though, this one doesn't know what he's talking about,' said Ann letting go of Harry's hand to his disappointment. Ron nearly dropped the jar.
'Harry! Ann!' squealed Hermione. 'What are you doing here? How â€" how did you â€"?'
'Wow!' said Ron, looking very impressed. 'You've both learned to Apparate!'
'Yes that's right Ron we as-third-years figured out how to perform 7th year level magic,' said Ann through laughs. Ron rolled his eyes.
''Course we haven't,' said Harry. He dropped his voice so that none of the sixth-years could hear him and told them all about the Marauder's Map.
'How come Fred and George never gave it to me!' said Ron, outraged. 'I'm their brother!'
'Guess they prefer their god-sibling,' Ann joked.
'But Harry and Ann aren't going to keep it!' said Hermione, as though the idea was ludicrous. 'He's going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren't you, Harry?'
'Honestly as long as I get to keep coming to Hogsemade Harry can do whatever he wants with the map,' said Ann chuckling.
'Well I'm not turning it into Professor McGonagall' said Harry.
'Are you mad?' said Ron, goggling at Hermione. 'Hand in something that good?'
'If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it!' said Harry
'Yeah, Filch would know Fred and George nicked it!' Ann added
'But what about Sirius Black?' Hermione hissed. 'He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!'
'He can't be getting in through a passage,' said Harry quickly. 'There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And the other three â€" one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one we just came through â€" well â€" it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar â€" so unless he knew it was there â€"' Harry hesitated. Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweet shop door.
BY ORDER OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC Customers are reminded that until further notice, Dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall. Merry Christmas!
'See?' said Ron quietly. 'I'd like to see Sirius Black try and break into Honeydukes with Dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break in, wouldn't they? They live above the shop!'
'Yes, but â€" but â€"' Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. 'Look, Harry and Ann still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade, neither of them have got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'll both be in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet â€" what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?'
'He'd have a job spotting Harry or me in this,' said Ann, nodding through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow.
'Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas, Harry and Ann deserve a break.' said Ron. Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried.
'Are you going to report us?' Harry asked her, grinning.
'If you do put it on the record that you really overthink things,' said Ann smiling at her friend
'Oh â€" of course not â€" but honestly, Harry, Ann â€"'
'Seen the Fizzing Whizzbees, Harry, Ann?' said Ron, grabbing him and Ann and leading them over to their barrel. 'And the Jelly Slugs? And the Acid Pops?' Ann chuckled and said
'Remember when Fred gave you one of those when we were seven â€" it burnt a hole right through your tongue' said Ann
'Yep, I remember Mum walloping him with her broomstick.' Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Pop box. 'Reckon Fred'd take a bit of Cockroach Cluster if I told him they were peanuts?'
'Freds to-he might to be honest,' said Ann. When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of them left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside. Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there were holly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees. Harry and Ann shivered; unlike the other two, they didn't have their cloaks. They headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron and Hermione shouting through their scarves.
'That's the Post Office â€"'
'Zonko's is up there â€"'
'We could go up to the Shrieking Shack â€"'
'Tell you what,' said Ron, his teeth chattering, 'shall we go for a Butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?' Harry and Ann were both more than willing; the wind was fierce and Ann's hands were freezing, so they crossed the road, and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn. It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm and smoky. A curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.
'That's Madam Rosmerta,' said Ron. 'I'll get the drinks, shall I?' he added, going slightly red
'Madam Rosmarta, huh?' teased Ann
'Shut up!' said Ron going red
'Your right I'm sorry,' said Ann very jokingly. Ann, Harry and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying four foaming tankards of hot Butterbeer.
'Happy Christmas!' he said happily, raising his tankard. Ann drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of her from the inside. A sudden breeze ruffled her hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked, Ann looked over as well and gasped. 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 Ann and Harry's heads and forced them off their stools and under the table. Dripping with Butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Ann frowned as Harry clutched his empty tankard and watched the teachers' and Fudge's feet move towards the bar, pause, then turn and walk right towards them. Somewhere above them, Hermione 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 lower branches, Ann saw four sets of chair legs move back from the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighs of the teachers and Minister as they sat down. Next she saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels, and heard a woman's voice.
'A small Gillywater â€"'
'Mine,'said Professor McGonagall's voice.
'Four pints of mulled mead â€"'
'Ta, Rosmerta,'said Hagrid.
'A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella â€"'
'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.' Ann watched the glittering heels march away and back again. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably in her throat. Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to her and Harry.
'So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?' came Madam Rosmerta's voice. Ann saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist 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 â€" 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.'
'You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta,' said Fudge gruffly. 'The worst he did isn't widely known.'
'The worst?' said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. 'Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?'
'I certainly do,' said Fudge.
'I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?' But Ann and Harry both had an inkling of what Fudge meant.
'You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta,' murmured Professor McGonagall. 'Do you remember who his best friend was?'
'Naturally,' said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. 'Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them in here â€" ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!' Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him. Ann just gasped this was new information to her as well.
'Precisely,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course â€" exceptionally bright, in fact â€" but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers â€"'
'I dunno,' chuckled Hagrid. 'Fred and George Weasley could give 'em a run fer their money' 'You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!' chimed in Professor Flitwick. 'Inseparable!'
'Of course they were,' said Fudge. 'Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. and Potter was the best man at Black and Marlene's wedding. Then they named Black godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him. I bet it tournaments Anastasia just being the daughter of Black'
'Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.
'Worse even than that, m'dear …' Fudge dropped his voice and proceeded in a sort of low rumble. 'Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm.'
'How does that work?' said Madam Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.
'An immensely complex spell,' he said squeakily, 'involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find â€" unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting-room window!'
'So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?' whispered Madam Rosmerta.
'Naturally,' said Professor McGonagall. 'James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding with his family himself … and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself.'
'He suspected Black?' gasped Madam Rosmerta. 'He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,' said Professor McGonagall darkly. 'Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who.'
'But James Potter insisted on using Black?'
'He did,' said Fudge heavily. 'And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed â€"'
'Black betrayed them?' breathed Madam Rosmerta. 'He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. So he did just that, well Marlene was tortured to death by his cousin Belltrix Lestrange right in front of Anasatia. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His Master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colours as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it â€"'
'Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!' Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.
'Shh!' said Professor McGonagall.
'I met him!' growled Hagrid. 'I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James' house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead … an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James' Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-KnowWho's attack an' come ter see what he could do, left his wife and kid vulnerable, makes sense now. White an'shakin', he was. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!' Hagrid roared. 'Hagrid, please!'said Professor McGonagall. 'Keep your voice down!'
'How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Marlene or Lily an' James even? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him, he can grow up with Annâ€"' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won' need it any more,' he says. 'I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it any more? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him. 'But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friend's son! But when a wizard goes over ter the dark side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em any more …' A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmerta said with some satisfaction,
'But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!'
'Alas, if only we had,'said Fudge bitterly. 'It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew â€" another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt being Marlene's friend, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself.'
'Pettigrew … that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?' said Madam Rosmerta.
'Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,' said Professor McGonagall. 'Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I â€" how I regret that now …' She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.
'There, now, Minerva,' said Fudge kindly, 'Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eye-witnesses â€" Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later â€" told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing.
'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you, and now little Annie has no one!' And then he went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens …' Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, 'Stupid boy … foolish boy … he was always hopeless at duelling … should have left it to the Ministry …'
'I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands â€" I'd've ripped him limb â€" from â€" limb,' Hagrid growled.
'You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid,' said Fudge sharply. 'Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I â€" I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him … a heap of blood-stained robes and a few â€" a few fragments â€"' Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of five noses being blown. 'Well, there you have it, Rosmerta,' said Fudge thickly. 'Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since.' Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh.
'Is it true he's mad, Minister?'
'I wish I could say that he was,' said Fudge slowly. 'I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man â€" cruel … pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark, there's no sense in them … but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored â€" asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the Dementors seemed to be having on him â€" and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door, day and night.'
'But what do you think he's broken out to do?' said Madam Rosmerta. 'Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin You-Know-Who, is he?'
'I daresay that is his â€" er â€" eventual plan,' said Fudge evasively. 'But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say, You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing … but give him back his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quickly he'll rise again …' There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had set down their glass.
'You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the Headmaster, we'd better head back up to the castle,' said Professor McGonagall. One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Ann took the weight of their owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight and Madam Rosmerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers disappeared.
'Harry, Ann?' Ron and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They were both staring at the two, lost for words.