Harry Potter and the Hall of Echoes [COMPLETED]

Chapter 15

'That's the thing,' said Hopkins eagerly. 'How do you become the best wizards' school? What even is a "best school"? Drink it, please,' he added, lifting up the goblet. 'It won't harm you.'

With a note of reluctance, Hermione drank the potion Hopkins had given her. Nothing much seemed to happen.

'Over the past twenty years or so,' said Hopkins, 'while other schools have stuck to their traditions, Dartford has pushed the boundaries of what is possible. The Muggle world, I admit, can no longer be ignored — and so I've learned a great deal from their most powerful discipline.'

Hopkins seemed to be waiting for Harry and Hermione to ask him what this 'discipline' was, but when neither of them did so, he went on.

'I am referring, of course, to science,' he explained simply. 'The principles of observation, measurement and experiment used in scientific analysis; the patience to iterate, to innovate; the emphasis on real-world problem-solving.'

Hermione, Harry noticed, was avoiding Hopkins' gaze — she kept looking off to the side, towards the bench with Muggle electronics.

'Dartford students all appreciate that science is just another kind of wizardry,' he told them. 'And that its applications, combined with magic, are virtually boundless. You've seen evidence of this ideal in the little "Finder" you carry around — a device that was invented by not me, but my son.'

It was at this moment that Hermione let out a loud shriek: Harry noticed an odd, green glow had begun to emanate from her feet.

'When I am gone,' said Hopkins, 'when I am laid to rest, my Echo will be a mere caretaker of this place. It is Blake who will truly be able to carry out my vision — it's him that will take Dartford to the top.'

As Hermione stood up, trying anxiously to shake the glow from off her feet, Harry caught a glance of something on the bench — something orange. It was a tiny frog, with an odd set of markings around the top of its head: these markings vaguely resembled a head of flaming, red hair...

Harry could see in the corner of his eye a look of warning from Hermione, and all of a sudden he realised what was going on.

'Why the Echoes?' Harry asked quickly, trying to keep his eyes off the frog on the bench. 'How come your "plan" involves making copies of us?'

Hopkins smiled. 'Excellent question,' he said. 'But the answer, I think, is straightforward enough. The reason, Harry, is because you are the Boy Who Lived; you are the one who conquered the Dark Lord.'

Harry looked again at the frog: it was now hopping very quietly towards the odd-looking controller.

'What I mean,' Hopkins said, 'is that you are famous. More than famous. And when everyone finds out that Harry Potter has moved to Dartford College, well... where will parents want to send their children? Now, hang on just a moment, let me find just go find another goblet — Harry, I want to get your Moulding started —'

'Wait!' said Hermione, as Hopkins stood up.

Hopkins gave her a strange look. 'Yes?'

'I — er... um...'

Hermione was wearing an anxious expression, and Harry knew the reason why: if Hopkins turned around, he would definitely see the orange frog, and —

'Ron,' said Hermione suddenly. 'I — I know where he is. Where he escaped to.' And she then bowed her head in resignation.

'You do?' said Hopkins eagerly.

'Hermione,' Harry said. 'What are you doing —'

'I'm sorry, Harry,' whispered Hermione. 'Hopkins is going to find him anyway. Let's face it. It's just better if — aaah!'