Suffocating In Darkness

Chapter 10

Where was Dumbledore, and what was he doing? I caught sight of the Headmaster only twice over the next few weeks. He rarely appeared at meals anymore, and I was sure Hermione was right in thinking that he was leaving the school for days at a time. Had Dumbledore forgotten the lessons he was supposed to be giving us? Dumbledore had said that the lessons were leading to something to do with the prophecy; I had felt bolstered, comforted, and now I felt slightly abandoned.

Halfway through October came our first trip of the term to Hogsmeade. I had wondered whether these trips would still be allowed, given the increasingly tight security measures around the school, but was pleased to know that they were going ahead; it was always good to get out of the castle grounds for a few hours.

Harry was becoming increasingly more obsessed with that Half- Blood Prince book he had. He also showed me some of the spells that the Prince himself had written.

Harry had already attempted a few of the Prince's self-invented spells. There had been a hex that caused toenails to grow alarmingly fast (he had tried this on Crabbe in the corridor, with very entertaining results); a jinx that glued the tongue to the roof of the mouth (which he had twice used, to general applause, on an unsuspecting Argus Filch); and, perhaps most useful of all, Muffliato, a spell that filled the ears of anyone nearby with an unidentifiable buzzing, so that lengthy conversations could be held in class with out being overheard.

The only person who did not find these charms amusing was Hermione, who maintained a rigidly disapproving expression throughout and refused to talk at all if Harry had used the Muffliato spell on anyone in the vicinity.

I had gotten dressed quickly in one of Fred's old sweaters, comfy jeans, soft boots, a beret, gloves and a scarf. Hermione kept telling me that it would be extremely cold.

"... and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!" Ron grinned, helping himself to sausages. The boys were telling us about how Harry used a spell and woke all the boys up.

Hermione had not cracked a smile during this anecdote, and now turned an expression of wintry disapproval upon Harry.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?" she asked.

Harry frowned at her.

"Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?"

"Was it?"

"Well... yeah, it was, but so what?"

"So you just decided to try out an unknown, handwritten incantation and see what would happen?"

"Why does it matter if it's handwritten?" said Harry, preferring not to answer the rest of the question.

"Because it's probably not Ministry of Magic approved," said Hermione. "And also," she added, as we rolled our eyes, "because I'm starting to think this Prince character was a bit dodgy."

We all shouted her down at once.

"It was a laugh!" said Oliver, upending a ketchup bottle over his breakfast. "Just a laugh, Hermione, that's all!"

"Dangling people upside down by the ankle?" said Hermione. "Who puts their time and energy into making up spells like that?"

"Fred and George," said Ron, shrugging, "it's their kind of thing. And, er--"

"My dad," said Harry.

"What?" We said together.

"My dad used this spell," said Harry. "I--Lupin told me."