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chapter viii

(prisoner of azkaban)

ariana face-plants

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PROFESSOR DUMBLEDORE SENT ALL OF the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where they were joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, who all looked extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the Hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added to Percy, who was looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore paused, about to the leave the Hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing ..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables flew to the edges of the Hall and stood themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," said Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him. The Hall immediately began to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouted Percy. 'Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron said to Harry and Hermione; they seized three sleeping bags and dragged them into a corner. Ariana was across the room with Dean and Seamus, who she seemed to be spending a lot of time with.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispered anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," said Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," said Hermione, as they climbed fully dressed into their sleeping bags and propped themselves on their elbows to talk. "The one night we weren't in the Tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," said Ron. "Didn't realise it was Hallowe'en. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione shuddered.

All around them, people were asking each other the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," said a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," said a Hufflepuff fifth-year.

"He could've flown in," suggested Dean. Ariana chose to ignore the other accusations, that she had been the one to sneak Sirius Black into the castle.

"Honestly, am I the only person who's ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" said Hermione crossly to Harry and Ron.

"Probably," said Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than walls, you know," said Hermione. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still filled the Hall, Ariana felt as though she was sleeping outdoors in a light wind.

Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. Around three in the morning, when many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Ariana watched him looking around for Percy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Ariana, who quickly pretended to be asleep as Dumbledore's footsteps drew nearer.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" asked Percy in a whisper.

"No. All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her."

Ariana heard the door of the Hall creak open again, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape. Ariana kept quite still, listening hard. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there, either."

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched..."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.

Ariana raised her head very slightly off his arms to free her other ear.

"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."

Ariana opened her eyes a fraction and squinted up to where they stood; Dumbledore's back was to her, but she could see Percy's face, rapt with attention, and Snape's profile, which looked angry.

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before – ah – the start of term?" said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to block Percy out of the conversation.

"I do, Severus," said Dumbledore, and there was something like warning in his voice. "It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed and enrolled-"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle, student or teacher would have helped Black enter it," said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn't reply.

"I must go down to the Dementors," said Dumbledore. "I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" said Percy.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore coldly. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster."

Percy looked slightly abashed. Dumbledore left the Hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the Headmaster with an expression of deep resentment on his face, then he, too, left.

Harry glanced sideways at Ron and Hermione. Both of them had their eyes open, too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder; Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Herbology class telling anyone who'd listen that Black could turn into a flowering shrub.

The Fat Lady's ripped canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony. Nobody was very happy about this. Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.

"He's barking mad," said Seamus angrily to Percy. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," said Percy. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Sir Cadogan, however, was the least of Ariana's worries. She was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with him, while many students had taken to avoiding her like the plague. Even Ron was acting skittish around her, and that was the main reason she spent most of her time with Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Parvati and Neville.

To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned her and Harry into her office, with such a sombre expression on her face Ariana thought someone must have died.

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter, Black," she said, in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black-"

"I know he's after us," said Harry wearily. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

Ariana shrugged. "It wasn't hard to figure out. I mean, you put me in a different year group."

Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at them for a moment or two, then said,

"I see! Well, in that case, Potter, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practising Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the pitch with only your team members, it's very exposed, Potter-"

"We've got our first match on Saturday!" said Harry, outraged. "I've got to train, Professor!"

Professor McGonagall considered him intently. Ariana knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects; it had been she, after all, who'd suggested Harry as Seeker in the first place. He waited, holding his breath.

"Hmm ...' Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch pitch, just visible through the rain. "Well ... goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last ... but all the same, Potter ... I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."

As well as dealing with her crazy father, she was also struggling with her mother's side. Her dreams were getting worse and worse each night, the one thing they had in common was that taunting voice, begging her to betray the gods. Every morning she went for a run around the grounds, sometimes having to kill a stray monster coming out if the Forbidden Forest.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

The day before the match, the winds reached howling point and the rain fell harder than ever. It was so dark inside the corridors and classrooms that extra torches and lanterns were lit. The Slytherin team were looking very smug indeed, and none more so than Malfoy, as they had wormed there way out of the game.

"Ah, if only my arm was feeling a bit better!" he sighed, as the gale outside pounded the windows.

As the class entered the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, they noticed Snape was sitting at the teacher's desk. Exchanging looks with Dean, they took their seats.

Snape started to talk about how disorganised Professor Lupin was, and how he was a rubbish teacher. The class was quick to defend their favourite teacher.

The door was pulled open. 'Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I-" Harry started, only to realise it was Snape who looked up at him from the teacher's desk.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry didn't move.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" he said.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

But Harry stayed where he was. "What's wrong with him?"

Snape's black eyes glittered.

"Nothing life-threatening," he said, looking as though he wished it was. "Five more points from Gryffindor, and if I have to ask you to sit down again, it will be fifty."

Harry walked slowly to his seat and sat down. Snape looked around at the class.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far-"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas and Grindylows," said Hermione quickly, "and we're just about to start-"

"Be quiet," said Snape coldly. "I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organisation."

"He's the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape looked more menacing than ever.

"You are easily satisfied. Lupin is hardly over-taxing you – I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss-"

Ariana watched him flick through the textbook, to the very back chapter, which he must know they hadn't covered.

"– werewolves," said Snape.

"But, sir," said Hermione, seemingly unable to restrain herself, "we're not supposed to do werewolves yet, we're due to start Hinkypunks-"

"Miss Granger," said Snape, in a voice of deadly calm, "I was under the impression that I was taking this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." He glanced around again. "All of you! Now!"

With many bitter sidelong looks and some sullen muttering, the class opened their books.

"Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence; everyone except Hermione, whose hand, as it so often did, had shot straight into the air.

"Anyone?" Snape said, ignoring Hermione. His twisted smile was back. "Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn't even taught you the basic distinction between-"

"We told you," said Ariana suddenly, "we haven't got as far as werewolves yet, we're still on-"

"Silence!' snarled Snape. "Well, well, well, I never thought I'd meet a third-year class who wouldn't even recognise a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are..."

"Please, sir," said Hermione, whose hand was still in the air, "the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf-"

"That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger," said Snape coolly. "Five more points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Hermione went very red, put down her hand and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. It was a mark of how much the class loathed Snape that they were all glaring at him, because every one of them had called Hermione a know-it-all at least once, and Ron, who told Hermione she was a know-it-all at least twice a week, said loudly, "You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?"

The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Ron slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Weasley," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Ron's. "And if I ever hear you criticise the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed." No one made a sound throughout the rest of the lesson. They sat and made notes on werewolves from the textbook, while Snape prowled up and down the rows of desks, examining the work they had been doing with Professor Lupin.

"Very poorly explained ... that is incorrect, the Kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia ... Professor Lupin gave this eight out of ten? I wouldn't have given it three... Is that even English?" he asked when he passed Ariana.

It was not, in fact English. It was Greek. Ariana had spent the whole year writing in Greek and using a spell to convert it from one language to another.

When the bell rang at last, Snape held them back.

£You will each write an essay, to be handed in to me, on the ways you recognise and kill werewolves. I want two rolls of parchment on the subject, and I want them by Monday morning. It is time somebody took this class in hand. Weasley, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Ariana, Harry and Hermione left the room with the rest of the class, who waited until they were well out of earshot, then burst into a furious tirade about Snape.

"Snape's never been like this with any of our other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, even if he did want the job," Harry said to Hermione.

"Why's he got it in for Lupin? D'you think this is all because of the Boggart?"

"I don't know," said Hermione pensively. "But I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon..."

Ron caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage. "D'you know what that dick is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic"' He was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't Black have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us!"

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

Ariana woke with a start. She just had a dream where a horse and eagle were fighting on the beach. The eagle turned into Thalia, and the horse transformed into a dark-haired, green eyed boy.

"This will happen little hero," the voice had taunted, before she had fallen through the ground.

Ariana fumbled for her alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing herselg, she rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now she was awake, to ignore the sounds of the thunder rumbling overhead, the pounding of the wind against the castle walls and the distant creaking of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. In a few hours Harry would be out on the Quidditch pitch, battling through that gale.

Finally, she gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, and walked quietly out of the dormitory. As Ariana opened the door, something brushed against her leg. She looked down to see Crookshanks trot down the stairs, probably to go find a mouse or a rat to eat.

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Ariana knew better than to think the match would be cancelled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles such as thunderstorms. Nevertheless, she was starting to feel very apprehensive. It didn't seem very safe for anyone, but especially Harry, who was so much smaller then any of the others. He could easily be blown of his broom.

She curled up on an armchair as a pair of footsteps padded into the common room. She looked up to see Harry walking down the stairs.

"Can't sleep?" she asked him.

He shook his head.

They whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stop Crookshanks sneaking up the boys' staircase again. At long last Harry thought it must be time for breakfast, so they headed through the portrait hole together.

"Stand and fight, you mangy cur!" yelled Sir Cadogan.

"Oh, shut up," Harry yawned.

Ariana groaned. "It's too early for this shit."

Harry revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time Ariana had started on toast, the rest of the team had turned up.

"It's going to be a tough one," said Wood, who wasn't eating anything.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, "we don't mind a bit of rain." But it was considerably more than a bit of rain. Such was the popularity of Quidditch that the whole school turned out to watch the match as usual, but they ran down the lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.

Just before he entered the changing room, Harry saw Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle laughing and pointing at him from under an enormous umbrella on their way to the stadium. The team changed into their scarlet robes and waited for Wood's usual pre-match pep talk, but it didn't come. He tried to speak several times, made an odd gulping noise, then shook his head hopelessly and beckoned them to follow him. The wind was so strong that they staggered sideways as they walked out onto the pitch. If the crowd was cheering they couldn't hear it over the fresh rolls of thunder. Rain was splattering over Harry's glasses. How on earth was Harry going to see the Snitch in this?

The Hufflepuffs were approaching from the opposite side of the pitch, wearing canary-yellow robes. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Harry saw Madam Hooch's mouth form the words, 'Mount your brooms.' He pulled his right foot out of the mud with a squelch and swung it over his Nimbus Two Thousand. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant – they were off.

The game seemed never ending because neither of the seekers could see the snitch in the pouring rain. Up in the commentating box, Lee and Ariana were trying their best, but no one could hear what they were saying

With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle; Harry could just see the outline of Wood through the thick rain, gesturing him to the ground. The whole team splashed down into the mud.

They kept playing after a short break, and this time Harry and Diggory were getting somewhere.

But something odd was happening. An eerie silence was falling across the stadium. The wind, though as strong as ever, was forgetting to roar. It was as though someone had turned off the sound, as though Ariana had gone suddenly deaf – what was going on?

And then a horribly familiar wave of cold swept over her, inside her, just as she became aware of something moving on the pitch below ...

Before she'd had time to think, Ariana had taken her eyes off the Snitch and looked around.

At least a hundred Dementors, their hidden faces, were standing below. It was as though freezing water was rising in her chest, cutting at his insides. And then she heard it again ... someone was screaming, screaming inside her head ... a woman ...

"Not Ariana, not Ariana, please not Ariana!"

"I won't kill your child, only enlighten her. She has a part to play in the future."

'Not Ariana, please no, take me, kill me instead-"

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Ariana's brain...

What was she doing? Why was she falling? She needed to help her... she was going to die... she was going to be murdered...

She was falling, falling through the icy mist.

"Not Ariana. Anyone else...please...I made a promise...please."

A warm voice was laughing, the woman was choking, and Ariana knew no more.

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought they were dead for sure."

"But Harry didn't even break his glasses."

Ariana could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. She didn't have a clue where she was, or how she'd got there, or what she'd been doing before she got there. All she knew was that every inch of her was aching as though it had been beaten.

"That was the scariest thing I've ever seen in my life."

Scariest ... the scariest thing ... hooded black figures ... cold ... screaming ...

"Harry!" said Fred "How're you feeling?"

It was as though Ariana's memory was on fast forward. The lightning... the storm...Lee ...and the Dementors ...

"What happened?" Ariana said, sitting up so suddenly they all gasped.

"Harry, you fell off,' said Fred. "Must've been – what – fifty feet? And Ariana, you down the of the stands. Did, like, seven flips."

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking. Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

Dean, who was sitting beside Ariana said, "You sort of bounced all the way down. And got stood on a few times. Other than that, you should be fine."

"But the match," said Harry. "What happened? Are we having a replay?"

No one said anything. The realisation was clear on Harry's face. "We didn't – lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said George. "Just after you fell. He didn't realise what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a re-match. But they won fair and square ... even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Ariana, suddenly realising he wasn't there.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself." Harry put his face to his knees, his hands gripping his hair. Ariana raised her eyebrows at his dramatics. Sure, they lost, but it wasn't that big of a deal, was it? Fred grabbed his shoulder and shook it roughly. "C'mon, Harry, you've never missed the Snitch before."

"There had to be one time you didn't get it," said George.

"It's not over yet," said Fred. 'We lost by a hundred points, right? So, if Hufflepuff lose to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..."

"Hufflepuff will have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George. "But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

"No way, Ravenclaw are too good. But if Slytherin lose against Hufflepuff..."

"It all depends on the points – a margin of a hundred either way-"

Ariana lay there, not saying a word. He whole body ached. Dean told her that Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal her injures with magic. Probably due to her demigod blood.

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave them in peace.

"We'll come and see you later," Fred told him. "Don't beat yourself up, Harry, you're still the best Seeker we've ever had."

Dean squeezed her hand. "I have to go help Seamus with something. I'll be back." He smiled at her before leaving. There was definitely something going on between those two.

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Ron and Hermione moved nearer to their beds.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the pitch as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the Dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium straight away ... he was furious they'd come into the grounds, we heard him-"

"Then he magicked you guys onto a stretcher," said Ron. "And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were..."

His voice faded away, but Ariana hardly noticed. She was thinking about what the Dementors had done to him ... about the screaming voice. It was from that night...the night she so desperately wanted to forget. The real reason why she changed her name from Andromeda to Ariana.

She looked up and saw Ron and Hermione looking at Harry so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

Ron and Hermione looked quickly at each other.

"Er-"

"What?" said Harry, looking from one to the other.

"Well... when you fell off, it got blown away,' said Hermione hesitantly.

"And?"

"And it hit – it hit – oh, Harry – it hit the Whomping Willow." Harry's face fell. The Whomping Willow was a very violent tree which stood alone in the middle of the grounds.

"And?" he said, looking like he was dreading the answer.

"Well, you know the Whomping Willow," said Ron. "It – it doesn't like being hit."

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came round," said Hermione in a very small voice. Slowly, she reached down for a bag at her feet, turned it upside-down and tipped a dozen bits of splintered wood and twig onto the bed, the only remains of Harry's faithful, finally beaten broomstick.