Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

“I’m trying to decide what curse to use on Malloy, sir,” said Harry fiercely.

Snape stared at him.

“Put that wand away at once,” he said curtly. “Ten points from Gryff—”

Snape looked towards the giant hour-glasses on the walls and gave a sneering smile.

“Ah. I see there are no longer any points left in the Gryffindor hour-glass to take away. In that case, Potter, we will simply have to—”

“Add some more?”

Professor McGonagall had just stumped up the stone steps into the castle; she was carrying a tartan carpetbag in one hand and leaning heavily on a walking stick with her other, but otherwise looked quite well.

“Professor McGonagall!” said Snape, striding forwards. “Out of St. Mungo’s, I see!”

“Yes, Professor Snape,” said Professor McGonagall, shrugging off her travelling cloak, “I’m quite as good as new. You two—Crabbe—Goyle—”

She beckoned them forwards imperiously and they came, shuffling their large feet and looking awkward.

“Here,” said Professor McGonagall, thrusting her carpetbag into Crabbe’s chest and her cloak into Goyle’s; “take these up to my office for me.”

They turned and stumped away up the marble staircase.

“Right then,” said Professor McGonagall, looking up at the hourglasses on the wall. “Well, I think Potter and his friends ought to have fifty points apiece for alerting the world to the return of You-Know-Who! What say you, Professor Snape?”

“What?” snapped Snape, though Harry knew he had heard perfectly well. “Oh—well—I suppose…”

“So that’s fifty each for Potter, the two Weasleys, Longbottom and Miss Granger,” said Professor McGanagall, and a shower of rubies fell down into the bottom bulb of Gryffindor’s hour-glass as she spoke. “Oh—and fifty for Miss Lovegood, I suppose,” she added, and a number of sapphires fell into Ravenclaw’s glass. “Now, you wanted to take ten from Mr. Potter, I think, Professor Snape—so there we are…”

A few rubies retreated into the upper bulb, leaving a respectable amount below nevertheless.

“Well, Potter, Malfoy—I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this,” Professor McGonagall continued briskly.

Harry did not need telling twice—he thrust his wand back inside his robes and headed straight for the front doors without another glance at Snape and Malfoy.

The hot sun hit him with a blast as he walked across the lawns towards Hagrid’s cabin. Students lying around on the grass sunbathing, talking, reading the SundayProphet and eating sweets, looked up at him as he passed; some called out to him, or else waved, clearly eager to show that they, like the Prophet, had decided he was something of a hero. Harry said nothing to any of them. He had no idea how much they knew of what had happened three days ago, but he had so far avoided being questioned and preferred to keep it that way.

He thought at first when he knocked on Hagrid’s cabin door that he was out, but then Fang came charging around the corner and almost bowled him over with the enthusiasm of his welcome. Hagrid, it transpired, was picking runner beans in his back garden.

“All righ’, Harry!” he said, beaming, when Harry approached the fence. “Come in, come in, we’ll have a cup o’ dandelion juice…”

“How’s things?” Hagrid asked him, as they settled down at his wooden table with a glass apiece of iced juice. “Yeh—er—feelin’ all righ’, are yeh?”

Harry knew from the look of concern on Hagrid’s face that he was not referring to Harry’s physical well-being.

“I’m fine,” Harry said quickly, because he could not bear to discuss the thing that he knew was in Hagrid’s mind. “So, where’re you been?”

“Bin hidin’ out in the mountains,” said Hagrid. “Up in a cave, like Sirius did when he…”

Hagrid broke off, cleared his throat gruffly, looked at Harry, and took a long draught of juice.

“Anyway, back now,” he said feebly.

“You—you look better,” said Harry, who was determined to keep the conversation moving away from Sirius.

“Wha’?” said Hagrid, raising a massive hand and feeling his face. “Oh—oh yeah. Well, Grawpy’s loads better behaved now, loads. Seemed right pleased ter see me when I got back, ter tell yeh the truth. He’s a good lad, really… I’ve bin thinkin’ abou’ tryin’ ter find him a lady friend, actually…”

Harry would normally have tried to persuade Hagrid out of this idea at once; the prospect of a second giant taking up residence in the Forest, possibly even wilder and more brutal than Grawp, was positively alarming, but somehow Harry could not muster the energy necessary to argue the point. He was starting to wish he was alone again, and with the idea of hastening his departure he took several large gulps of his dandelion juice, half-emptying his glass.

“Ev’ryone knows yeh’ve bin tellin’ the truth now, Harry,” said Hagrid softly and unexpectedly. He was watching Harry closely. “Tha’s gotta be better, hasn’ it?”

Harry shrugged.

“Look…” Hagrid leaned towards him across the table, “I knew Sirius longer ’n yeh did… he died in battle, an’ tha’s the way he’d’ve wanted ter go—”

“He didn’t want to go at all!” said Harry angrily.