And Dumbledore left the office, leaving Harry to his very confused thoughts.
Nobody at Hogwarts now knew the truth of what had happened the night that Sirius, Buckbeak, and Pettigrew had vanished except Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Professor Dumbledore. As the end of term approached, Harry heard many different theories about what had really happened, but none of them came close to the truth.
Malfoy was furious about Buckbeak. He was convinced that Hagrid had found a way of smuggling the hippogriff to safety, and seemed outraged that he and his father had been outwitted by a gamekeeper. Percy Weasley, meanwhile, had much to say on the subject of Sirius’s escape.
“If I manage to get into the Ministry, I’ll have a lot of proposals to make about Magical Law Enforcement!” he told the only person who would listen—his girlfriend, Penelope.
Though the weather was perfect, though the atmosphere was so cheerful, though he knew they had achieved the near impossible in helping Sirius to freedom, Harry had never approached the end of a school year in worse spirits.
He certainly wasn’t the only one who was sorry to see Professor Lupin go. The whole of Harry’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class was miserable about his resignation.
“Wonder what they’ll give us next year?” said Seamus Finnigan gloomily.
“Maybe a vampire,” suggested Dean Thomas hopefully.
It wasn’t only Professor Lupin’s departure that was weighing on Harry’s mind. He couldn’t help thinking a lot about Professor Trelawney’s prediction. He kept wondering where Pettigrew was now, whether he had sought sanctuary with Voldemort yet. But the thing that was lowering Harry’s spirits most of all was the prospect of returning to the Dursleys. For maybe half an hour, a glorious half hour, he had believed he would be living with Sirius from now on… his parents’ best friend… It would have been the next best thing to having his own father back. And while no news of Sirius was definitely good news, because it meant he had successfully gone into hiding, Harry couldn’t help feeling miserable when he thought of the home he might have had, and the fact that it was now impossible.
The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had passed every subject. Harry was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore might have stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape’s behavior toward Harry over the past week had been quite alarming. Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible that Snape’s dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had. A muscle twitched unpleasantly at the corner of Snape’s thin mouth every time he looked at Harry, and he was constantly flexing his fingers, as though itching to place them around Harry’s throat.
Percy had got his top grade N.E.W.T.s; Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.L.s each. Gryffindor House, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House championship for the third year running. This meant that the end of term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated. Even Harry managed to forget about the journey back to the Dursleys the next day as he ate, drank, talked, and laughed with the rest.
As the Hogwarts Express pulled out of the station the next mornIng, Hermione gave Harry and Ron some surprising news.
“I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I’ve decided to drop Muggle Studies.”
“But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty percent!” said Ron.
“I know,” sighed Hermione, “but I can’t stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I’ve handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal schedule again.”
“I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about it,” said Ron grumpily. “We’re supposed to be your friends.”
“I promised I wouldn’t tell anyone,” said Hermione severely. She looked around at Harry, who was watching Hogwarts disappear from view behind a mountain. Two whole months before he’d see it again…
“Oh, cheer up, Harry!” said Hermione sadly.
“I’m okay,” said Harry quickly. “Just thinking about the holidays.”
“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about them too,” said Ron. “Harry, you’ve got to come and stay with us. I’ll fix it up with Mum and Dad, then I’ll call you. I know how to use a fellytone now—”
“A telephone, Ron,” said Hermione. “Honestly, you should take Muggle Studies next year…”
Ron ignored her.
“It’s the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we’ll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work.”
This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.
“Yeah… I bet the Dursleys’d be pleased to let me come… especially after what I did to Aunt Marge…”