“Please put your quills down and pass your scrolls forward.” Professor
Severus Snape said icily as he moved to the front of the classroom, his
dark eyes growing sharp as he gazed across his class, “That means you Longbottom,”
he snapped, causing Neville to quiver and drop his quill. Gulping, he shakily
handed his parchment to the person in front of him.
Harry Potter chewed on the end of his eagle feather quill expectantly,
wondering when Snape was going to let them out. He shivered. The potions
dungeon was damper and colder than usual, due to the rainy weather.
Snape glanced quickly over the scrolls.
He frowned at the red inked ones, due to their Gryffindor authors, and
smiled at the green inked ones, being Slytherian. Then he stopped. He shuffled
back to another paper, and seemed to compare the two. His face soured.
Harry raised an eyebrow tentatively. That must be my scroll, he thought.
“Mister Potter, I did not know that it was in your habit to cheat so openly.”
Snape stared loathingly across the room at Harry’s dumbfounded expression.
“I- I didn’t sir” Harry managed to squeakily stammer out. Snape had sunk
to a new low, to presume that Harry would cheat.
“Then why,” he began in a dangerously soft voice, “is your essay the same,
word for word as Mr. Malfoy’s?!” He ended shouting. He obviously did not
take into account that Draco sat six tables up from Harry. Draco, meanwhile,
was enjoying this immensely. He snickered and nudged Crabbe and Goyle who
sat beside him.
“I don’t know sir. Are you sure it’s mine?” Harry said in a clear, steady
voice, surprising himself.
“Are you calling me a liar Mr. Potter?” Snape’s mouth thinned. He looked
dangerous.
“No sir. With any due respect, I refuse to cheat. My father didn’t, I don’t
believe.”
Snape looked poisonous, and shot Harry a look of pure, loathing venom.“
It has your name on it.” he held up the scroll, between two fingers, like
one holds a piece of moldy meat. It did indeed have Harry’s name on it
in a neat, slanty writing unknown to Harry, who although famous for his
magical power was not the best with a quill.
“Sir?”
“What Potter?” Snape said in a tired voice, in the way one speaks to three-year
olds about their schoolwork.
“It’s not my handwriting.” Harry replied through clenched teeth.
“Oh?” Snape looked suspicious.
Harry scrawled out his name on a scrap of parchment in a series of loops
and scribbles, like he usually did, and passed it up to Snape. By this
time, the entire class was staring at Harry and Snape.
“I see,” was all that Snape said in a gaunt voice when he compared the
two papers, “I will speak to Professor McGonagall about this matter. Class
dismissed!”
“Man, I really thought you were going to get it that time” Ron Weasley
breathed when he caught up to Harry in the mad rush of students between
classes.
Harry mumbled something about Malfoy that Ron didn’t care to hear repeated
Hermione caught up to them at the top of the dungeon’s staircase. She glared
at any and every Slytherian passing her on the stairs, all of whom were
snickering. Harry didn’t notice her arrival. He seemed to be thinking about
something; his jaw was clenched, and he stared ahead fiercely. Ron and
Hermione started a nervously quiet conversation about Arithmancy while
Harry walked slower and slower, sinking deeper and deeper into his thoughts.
Finally he seemed to reach a conclusion, and came back to the surface.
Hermione tapped Ron on the shoulder with her wand, making him sneeze. He
shot a slight glare at her.
“Bless you.” said Harry turning around, “Hermione! I didn’t see you.” Harry
looked surprised.
Hermione shrugged it off, “You were stewing about something, and I really
didn’t want to bother you.”
“Oh. It’s nothing, really. I was just thinking.”
“About. . . .?” Ron prompted, waving his arms expectantly
“I told you, it’s nothing, okay!” Harry snapped.
Ron’s eyes widened, and be backed away, nearly falling down the stone stairs.
“Sorry,” Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his face, “ I’ve just been
a little stressed lately, you know with finals coming up early
and all.”
Ron looked quizzical for an instant, until Harry winked at him. Then he
smiled, “Yeah, and do you remember how McGonagall and Flitwick said that
they would be doubling their tests and combining classes?” he continued.
Harry bit his lip and tried to suppress the snorts at the shocked expression
that spread across Hermione’s face, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Just
because I was sick for a couple of days doesn’t mean that I don’t want
to keep up with my schoolwork. I mean . . . “ she trailed off, seeing Ron
begin to laugh outright. When he caught sight of the stony glare she gave
him, he only laughed harder. She pummeled him, and shoved him down the
stairs, right into Professor Snape.
“Miss Granger, I do not approve of the use of violence. Ten points from
Gryffindor”
He strolled on, tight-lipped and pale.
Ron crept back up the stairs, dusting himself off. “He touched me. I’ve
been poisoned. Aack!”
This made the group break up into another fit of raucous laughter that
lasted all the way to the Great Hall for dinner.
After the usual feast for dinner, the trio shuffled slowly towards the
Gryffindor common room. Neville Longbottom ran up to them, panting, “Thank
goodness you’re going to the tower. I’ve forgotten the password . . . again”
he gasped out. They told him, and he left hurriedly. He had probably forgotten
something else again.
Suddenly, a clicky-crunching noise accompanied by a low roaring hiss made
the three of them stop. Harry strained his ears and heard a clacking noise
echoing from the corridor ahead of them.
Ron’s eyes widened, “That sounds a lot like Aragog, and you know how much
I hate spiders.” He shuddered as he thought of the experience in the Forbidden
Forest he had with Harry.
“Um,” Hermione started, “I don’t know who or what Aragog is, but whatever
is making that noise sounds big and unfriendly. If it hears us, we’re probably
in trouble. I have a feeling that we should leave now.”
Ron nodded, and scurried around a corner, peering out with his brown eyes
wide in terror. Harry shook his head and listened as Hermione went off
to comfort the trembling boy. He clutched his wand hard and crept forward,
curious. The noise seemed to be far to rhythmic to be Aragog. He hunched
down and tiptoed towards the noise, wishing desperately that he had his
invisibility cloak.
He rounded the corner to see none other than Fred and George Weasley, Ron’s
elder twin brothers. They were the ultimate troublemakers, rivaling Harry’s
father and his friend, Sirius Black, who were the biggest class clowns
in their day. They seemed to be building some type of contraption. George
was wearing a large black helmet, and held a torch, which was shooting
multicolored sparks. He appeared to be welding with a bewitched torch.
Fred was handing him metal bits. Harry’s jaw dropped, and so did his wand,
with a clatter.
Fred looked up and, seeing Harry, kicked George. He yelled over the hiss
of the torch, “GEORGE! DINNER’S DONE!”
George shut off the torch and took off the helmet. Seeing Harry he smiled,
“Hey Mister P”
Harry rolled his eyes at the tall boy, wearing a blue sweater, emblazoned
with a yellow “G” so he could be recognized as different from his brother.
Because their mother sent them a new sweater every Christmas, sometimes
they chose to wear the same letter or switch letters, just to confuse their
friends, family and teachers.
“Would you help us carry this thing into our hiding place behind the fireplace
tapestry?” Fred asked, hefting the torch.
“We’re kind of trying to keep it a secret from McGonagall, for obvious
reasons” George said, tucking the helmet under his arm.
“And Percy” Fred added
“And Percy” George agreed.
“What on earth is it?” Harry asked, approaching the mass of gears and levers,
which he peered at, amazed.
“It’s a rocket or fireworks launcher. We just can’t get enough lift with
the Filibusters on their own. So, with a little magic and gunpowder . .
.” Fred trailed off to allow George the conclusion.
“KA-BAM!!” George finished dramatically, waving his arms.
“But why is it out here?” Harry tilted his head to get a better view of
the huge machine.
“Because we can’t fit it in the common room,” Fred waved to the portrait
hole.
“There’s too many chairs. Thank goodness we discovered a secret passage
leading to behind the fireplace tapestry.” George sighed dramatically.
“How did you find that out?” Harry raised an eyebrow, looking at the twins
questioningly.
“We let a salamander loose in the fireplace, and it just crawled behind
the fireproof tapestry. It was really hard waiting for people to go to
bed so we could put the fire out to investigate it.” Fred stated very matter-of-factly
“Oh.”
“Harry?” Hermione queried from around the corner, “Are you okay? Who are
you talking to?”
“It’s alright. Only Fred and George.”
Harry heard Ron growl angrily, “Don’t go scaring us with your noises.”
He grumbled.
“Ooh, was our widdle bwuther scardey-waredy of liddle old us?” George asked
sweetly, batting his eyes.
“Shut up” Ron said, stalking around the corner. He marched up to the picture
of the fat lady and announced haughtily, “Feather claw!”
The picture swung open, allowing Ron and Hermione through. George shook
his head and finger at the retreating red-headed freckly boy.
“Tsk, tsk. That boy’s going to be no good when he grows up.”
“And neither will you” said a familiar voice behind them
“Percy!” George jumped, and then spun around smiling at the tall, thin
and aggravating redheaded boy who stood, arms crossed behind them. Percy
was the eldest Weasley child at Hogwarts currently. He took his position
as Head Boy very seriously, much to the chagrin of his siblings, who teased
and tormented him to no end about it. Fred and George considered him a
disgrace to the family.
“Percy!” George said excitedly, slapping his brother on the back. Percy
winced, then scowled darkly at his brother. George grinned and continued,“
Well, we haven’t seen you for a while. Not since . . . “ He paused, to
think for a moment. “Hm. Must’ve been that last time you kissed Penelope.
Wow, that was a winner. Right Fred?” Fred nodded , snickering, as Percy
turned crimson.
“What exactly happened, you snoops?”
“Well, you were kissing for. . . . um. . . . .” George paused for effect.
“ Five minutes and forty-three seconds” Fred finished, smiling.
“YOU LITTLE CREEPS!” Percy raged.
After he regained his composure, Percy turned back to the twins and their
machine. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.
“Nothing Perce, just a little bit of art.” George grinned disarmingly
“Sure. Get rid of it in 5 minutes, or I’ll be personally sure that Mum
knows about the torch I see you’ve bewitched. You know what she did to
Dad after the car incident.”
“Aww, but we’ve been working months on this.” Fred groaned, slumping, while
George tried to stuff the magically glowing torch under his sweater.
“You have 5 minutes to deal with it in whatever way gets it out of this
hallway. I’m also taking five points from Gryffindor for doing magic in
the hallways.” Percy brushed his way to the portrait, and climbed inside
after announcing the password.
Fred sang to the retreating boy’s back in a high-pitched girlish falsetto,
clasping his hands together, “Percy, oh Percy, when shall we see you again
Percy? That was lovely Percy”
George snorted and then turned back to the problem at hand, “How are we
supposed to do this?” he moaned over their predicament.
“I’ve got an idea.” Harry interjected, “ You mustn’t tell anybody about
this. Only seven people know that it exists currently, and if you spill
the beans, I’ll tell McGonagall about your trips to Hogsmeade.”
“Yeah, what?” Fred looked skeptical.
“I’ve got an invisibility cloak.”
“No way.” George said, his eyes widening
“Really. I’ll be back in a flash.” Harry dashed inside, and up the stairs
to his dorm room. He searched through his suitcase at a record speed, and
found the silvery cloak.
Leaping down the stairs two at a time, he made it back out in a little
under a minute. Fred and George were hopping up and down excitedly. “Hurry!”
Fred whispered urgently, pointing to the Marauder’s Map, “Snape and McGonagall
are coming down the hall!”
“Here goes nothing.” Suppressing a slight sense of dread, Harry threw the
cape over the machinery, hoping that it would fit. To his amazement and
relief, it did.
The three of them shoved the machine to the corner of the dead end hallway,
and went into the common room, tolerably calmly. They sank into the chairs
with a sigh of relief. “Mission accomplished” George smiled weakly at Harry.
Fred on the other hand was curious. “Where did you get it? I’ve never seen
one before. Wow! Incredible!! That would be so useful. I wish we had something
like that.”
“I got it from Dumbledore. It used to be my dad’s”
“Your dad’s? You are so lucky.”
“What, to not have parents?” Harry said sardonically
“I’m sorry about your parents, you know that. I mean, to have the cloak.”
“I know,” Harry said, yawning, “Well, this has been an exciting day, and
I’m tired, so I’ll see you two in the morning.” He blinked tiredly and
trudged upstairs to his shared dorm room, rubbing his eyes, where he collapsed
on the bed, his mind empty of all thoughts except those of sleep. He fell
into an extremely deep, dreamless slumber almost as soon as his head reached
the pillow.
Unfortunately, morning came far too soon for Harry’s liking. A sharp tapping
came at his window a little before dawn. He yawned and promptly fell out
of bed while trying to reach the frantic bird at his window. It was Hedwig,
his snowy white owl.
“Morning, Hedwig” he mumbled as the owl affectionately nibbled on his nose,
reminding him that he needed his glasses. He fumbled at the table by his
bed and pushed them on once he discovered their location. Knowing that
he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, he stumbled down the stairs to
the Gryffindor common room to find Fred and George Weasley sitting in the
armchairs looking incredibly awake for that time of the morning.
“What a jolly good morning Harry!” George said cheerfully to the boy coming
down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and trying to flatten his hair.
“Mgrph” was all Harry said.
“We’ve got to move the launcher before anyone gets up. That’s why I got
Hedwig to wake you up so early.” Fred looked pleased with himself.
“Thanks, but really, you didn’t have to do that just for me”
“Come on. You do want your cloak back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, yeah.” Harry yawned and began moving towards the door.
They managed to get the contraption to a nearby marble statue, which George
promptly tapped with his wand, saying “Dispellisolvius”. The rock
divided to reveal a large hole. Grunting and heaving, the three boys shoved
the nearly solid block of metal into the gaping hole. Fred tapped a piece
of the rock, saying “Solititivius” to cause it to become whole again.
Harry climbed the stairs back up to his dorm room, to find Ron sitting
up in bed curiously. “What was that all about?”
“Your brothers needed me to help them move their thing.” Harry said, stuffing
his cloak into his chest, and magically locking it, as he usually did.
“The launcher?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s going to be pretty neat once it’s finished. I wonder how they’re
going to get it home.” Ron looked puzzled. Finally he shook his head, dismissing
the idea. “Let’s go get breakfast, eh?”
Harry yawned his approval.
When they came downstairs, it was to find Hermione in an armchair who had
obviously fallen asleep reading.
“Hermione! You’re late for class! We’ve got a Potions test today!” Ron
yelled at her from the top of the staircase.
“Huh! What?! Late!? Oh, no!” She looked around startled for a moment until
she realized who it was and what had happened. She glowered at Ron, who
smiled, pleased with his method of awakening her.
“I was wondering when you two were going to get up. We’ve got to get into
the library to study. We really, actually do have a test coming up in Transfiguration”
“I was up at dawn” Harry groaned
“Why?”
“Two words: Fred and George”
“Oh.”
“Let’s leave that alone, shall we? I’m famished.” Ron butt in, his stomach
gurgling.
Harry and Hermione approved of this course of action, and the three of
them oozed their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, much earlier than
any one of them had expected.
Breakfast went out with a bang. Literally. Harry was nearly done scraping
bacon grease off of his plate with a biscuit, when a large explosion caused
the Great Hall to shudder. Students screamed and dove under their chairs.
Harry glanced over to the Slytherian table to see Draco Malfoy, face the
color of sour milk, slide under the table with a look of pure horror on
his face. Harry’s joy at seeing his enemy scared was soon outlived by the
fear of being squashed. Students were racing to the huge double doors.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall’s voice rang out over the student body,
most of whom were shoving towards the door, “STUDENTS! PLEASE RETURN TO
YOUR SEATS IMMEDIATELY,” she shouted through a magically enhanced megaphone,
“THE EXPLOSION IS BEING INVESTIGATED. IT IS GENERAL THOUGHT THAT IT IS
PROBABLY PEEVES. SIT DOWN, AND FINISH YOUR BREAKFAST. THANK YOU.”
Slowly kids trickled back to their seats. As the last few students ambled
through the door, a small glittery figure appeared in the doorway. It was
Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher, who was, perhaps, Hogwarts’
oddest teacher. She nearly never strayed from her smoky tower except to
make either an obscure prediction, or a blatantly obvious statement about
something that had already happened.
Ron and Harry crawled from beneath the Gryffindor table to see her enter
the room. Harry nudged his friend and whispered, “Look, it’s the batty
professor.”
“Wonder what she wants to say to McGonagall” Hermione said, straightening
“No idea” Harry said.
“Good morning Minerva” said Professor Trelawney in her airiest voice, tinged
with sadness, and just the slightest bit of scorn.
“If you say so Sybill” Professor McGonagall replied curtly, sitting down
to finish her toast and marmalade.
Professor Dumbledore appeared in the doorway
and flowed towards the staff table with a concerned look on his face. “It
was Lockhart. He thought he still had a job here, not that he has his memory
restored.”
“What did he do” Snape asked, his pale, thin lips curling into an evilly
amused smile.
“Well,” Dumbledore looked like he felt sorry for the bumbling blonde teacher,
“he hadn’t remembered that you cannot Apparate into the castle. He hit
the barrier and was transformed, rather permanently I’m afraid, into this—
“ here he held out his palm to display a small lump of coal.
Ron snickered, and Harry bit into his lip to keep from letting loose the
snigger of laughter he felt was building.
Hermione, on the other hand was horror-struck at the idea, “Poor Gilderoy”
she murmured.
“He was a lazy, stupid git” Ron said, cackling at the thought of the sappy
Defense against the Dark Arts teacher being turned into a lump of carbon.
“Wasn’t!” Hermione protested shrilly.
“Was.” Harry replied, snorting with laughter, “The man couldn’t even catch
pixies.”
Ron howled at this comment, but Harry and Hermione ignored him. Their attention
was fixed on Professor Trelawney. With her owl-like eyes wide, she walked
up to Dumbledore with a sad expression.
“I’m afraid I saw this coming.” She said, downcast, “There was nothing
I could do to stop him. Fate had him marked down, and she does not give
up her quarry easily.”
Professor McGonagall stared at her with a sour expression, “Well, why didn’t
you tell us. We might have been able to help, or at least send an owl,
telling him that he’d be turned into a lump of coal.”
Professor Trelawney shrugged, “Well, if you do not believe in the future,
you may not see much of it Minerva.”
“Is that a threat Sybill?”
“Of course not, Minerva. I have no reason to harm you. Sometimes, however,
the spirits become aggravated at disrespect. I would watch yourself.”
With this, Professor Trelawney turned on her heel and glided out of the
Great Hall, as noiselessly as a swan on a lake.
Harry, Ron and Hermione stared after her with shocked expressions.
“Wow. She’s never been that talkative.” Ron mused
“I wonder what she meant about Professor McGonagall.” Harry said.
“Well,” Hermione said, ever the memorization expert, “Dumbledore did say
that one of her predictions had come true before. Maybe she could be predicting
something else.”
“I doubt it. She did say I was going to die. Look at me now” Harry waved
an arm at himself. Although he was still rather thin for his age, he had
grown quite a bit, and was nearly as tall as Ron.
“True.” Hermione mused. Then, looking at her watch, she shrieked, “Oh,
no! If we don’t hurry, we’ll be late for the History of Magic class. Professor
Binns was going to talk about the diversity of magic around the world today.
He said we were going to have a quiz on Friday.” She gulped down her orange
juice and ran out the door.
Ron bit his lip and smiled. He took out his own watch and looked at it,
“Well, we’ve got another hour and fifteen minutes until the History of
Magic starts. Do you want to play a game of chess?”
“What? But didn’t Hermione say — ?” Harry was puzzled.
“I set her watch forward an hour. Don’t worry she’ll be back soon enough.”
“I bet Fred and George would be proud of you.”
“Probably”
“Lets go”
Hermione finally did catch up to them, while they sat in armchairs in front
of the Gryffindor common room’s fire playing a game of wizard’s chess.
She stormed into the room with a black look on her face, marched up to
Ron, and dumped a glass of water on his head.
He sputtered a bit, but Harry laughed, feeling that he did, in fact, deserve
this fate. The three of them had a slightly odd relationship, but Harry
felt that it was just Ron’s way of flirting, whether it was with Hermione,
or disaster. Although, the two could sometimes walk hand in hand where
Ron was concerned.
Hermione stomped up to her dorm room, and did not reappear until classes
were set to begin again. The moment the bell rang, she reappeared at the
top of the stairs, glowered at Ron for an instant, and then walked to class,
without saying a single word.
Ron looked guilty, and shuffled sullenly to History of Magic. Professor
Binns said nothing about anybody as usual, but began his speech in the
usual monotonous tone he spoke in. Ron fell asleep half way through it.
When Hermione noticed this, she sneaked up behind him, undid his wristwatch,
set it forward an hour, and redid it.
Putting a finger to her mouth as she turned to Harry, she crept back to
her seat. Harry smiled and shook his head at the enterprising girl. Hermione
would go far in life, he could tell.
When the bell rang and Ron woke up, he didn’t notice his watch, until later,
when Hermione came up to him in the hall. “Hi Ron.” She said.
“You aren’t mad at me anymore?”
“Nope. Do you have the time?”
Ron looked at his watch. His eyes widened for a moment, until he realized
what Hermione had done. He smirked, and switched his watch back. Then he
turned to her, “Truce, okay?” He stuck out his hand.
“Truce.” She took it in her own.
They shook hands, and Harry shook his head.
“Well,” Harry said as they strolled to their common room, “it’s nice to
have all this free time. I’m glad that we don’t have Defense Against the
Dark Arts anymore. It was becoming rather pointless to have the class just
read out of books.”
“I wish we still had it! How are we going to do well on our OWLs or our
NEWTs?” Hermione complained loudly. “I am being forced to read on my own,
without any help! I swear, I will be lucky to pass with decent marks this
year.”
“At least Snape isn’t teaching it. That would be utterly horrible. What
we really need is a Defense Against Snape class. At least that would come
in useful here.” Ron muttered darkly.
“I wonder when we’re going to get a new teacher,” Harry mused, studying
his quill, which was slightly bent from Fred and George trying to inoculate
it with itching powder, “I liked Lupin.”
“Me too” Ron agreed
“How many advertisements has Dumbledore submitted to the Daily Prophet
now?“ Hermione turned to the two boys.
“A lot. That’s all I know.” Harry said.
“Hm.”
They walked up to the portrait hole to find Sir Cadogan, the fat knight
and his pony in the frame. Neville was arguing with him about the password.
“Oh, no. Not him again. It was torture last time.” Hermione slumped
“Great. We don’t have the passwords either. Let’s see if he told anyone
at all.” Harry said as he marched up to the painting.
“Hullo Sir Cadogan” Ron said behind him.
“Greetings young sir. Password?”
“Have you told anybody the password?” Harry asked, eyes narrowed.
“No, of course not! That would allow the enemy to enter! Have you the password
or not?”
“No, we don’t”
“Then away with ye, ye groveling mongrels!”
Hermione scowled and snorted at the short painting in his armor. She was
getting tired of him insulting them for no reason. She pointed her wand
at the painting, and murmured under her breath, “Dicadilapidum”, causing
Sir Cadogan to clutch at his throat.
“Hah!” she smiled wryly at the pudgy knight’s fate. “Do you wish to stop
insulting us?” Harry and Ron stared at her. Nobody had ever done magic
to a painting before.
He merely nodded, because the spell had the effect of loss of speech. She
tapped the painting, nonchalantly muttering “Revocilum”
He collapsed to his knees panting, while Harry gaped and Ron fumbled in
his bag for his own wand, in case Hermione turned on them for some reason.
She waved them away impatiently, “It’s not what you think. I told you,
I’ve been reading a lot on my own because we don’t have a teacher. That
spell is used to keep someone from speaking if you’re being hexed or cursed."
“I get it now. How did you know that you can work magic on the paintings?”
Ron said, putting his wand away.
“You can’t on most of them. Some of the paintings are protected because
they are used for passageways, such as the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan is merely
decorative, so you can perform magic on him.”
“Oh. Where did you learn this” Harry looked puzzled
“In “A History of Hogwarts.” I told you, I’ve been reading a lot on my
own.”
“Well, we’d better go and get McGonagall or somebody to let us into the
tower, since he won’t” Harry shrugged in the direction of the painting.
Sir Cadogan had drawn his sword, and was pointing it at Hermione. “Vile
mistress of Darkness! I shall be avenged!”
“Bug off” was all Ron said when he turned on his heel and walked towards
Professor McGonagall’s office.
“Oy! What’s this?!” They heard his shout from around the corner. Harry
rounded the curve in the hallway to find a brick wall blocking their path.
They were trapped.
“I have a very bad feeling about this.” Hermione drew her wand again while
Harry and Ron took theirs out.
Then the wall started to move. Towards
them. It rumbled, making the tunnel vibrate.
“RUN!!!” Harry yelled over the deafening clamor.
The three of them ran desperately towards the portrait hole where Sir Cadogan
looked very pleased. “I knew it! I knew there would be repercussions for
mucking in magical business."
“Get out of the way!” Hermione bellowed, pointing her wand at the picture
again. Sir Cadogan jumped out of the frame. “Hurry, lock hands” she told
Harry and Ron, who quickly complied as the wall roared towards them. She
shouted a few words, and with a blast of green light, they were sucked
into the painting screaming.
Harry sat up in bed shaking. It had all been a dream. Or had it? Harry
suddenly wanted a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Extremely
badly.
