"Johnny, a quick word?" Dumbledore asked Johnny once all the students were settled in the Great Hall with a sleeping bag and pillow. Johnny nodded, following Dumbledore outside of the door.

"Hold out your hand," Johnny obliged. Dumbledore dropped a green badge in his hand reading 'Student Headmaster.'

"What's ta Student Headmaster?" Johnny asked, staring at Dumbledore.

"A Student Headmaster or Headmistress, is basically higher than Head Boy or Head Girl," Dumbledore explained. "Student Headmasters are allowed to take House points away from other students in houses as a penalty for rule-breaking, you may give detentions as a form of punishment."

"But why me, sir?" Johnny asked. "Why not someone who's braver? Like Harry?"

"Because Johnny," said Dumbledore. "Do you remember what I said to Mr. Longbottom at the end of your First Year?"

"Something along the lines of it takes a good deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, even more to stand up to your friends."

"Right you are, Johnny," Dumbledore patted his shoulder. "But you showed more courage than standing up to enemies or your friends, you stood up to your family, no matter how terrified you were in that moment."

Johnny nodded weakly, looking down at the shiny badge that stared up at him, gleaming in the moonlight.

"You're going on patrol with your mother tonight," Dumbledore informed him, making Johnny's head snap up. Dumbledore noticed the frightened look on his face and quickly calmed him. "It will be fine, other teachers will be close by."

Evelyn walked out of the Great Hall and smiled weakly at Johnny. She looked pale, just like Johnny.

"How're you, my little Student Headmaster," Evelyn managed to joke as they set off through the first floor, climbing the stairs to the second.

"I-I'm terrified," Johnny mumbled. "Do you believe what they say?"

"What who say?" Evelyn asked, trying to avoid the question, but Johnny knew.

"Don't avoid the question," Johnny said bluntly, aiming the light from his wand down a dark hallway.

"The papers?" Evelyn asked for confirmation. "I-I don't know. I want to believe that he man I love is innocent, and he will return, but all the evidence is pointing that your father did it."

"M-Mum," Johnny's voice broke, causing Evelyn to stop and face him, her eyes filled with concern as she hugged her son tightly. "H-he terrifies me, M-Mum, after reading what h-he did to those Mu-Muggles, a-and Peter Pettigrew, t-then the whole situation with the B-Boggart, h-he was going to kill her, mum, he was going to kill H-Hermione."

"And you wouldn't let that happen," Evelyn reassured him, running a hand through his hair, before pulling back to cup his cheek. "Everyone in this damn castle knows you wouldn't let anything attack Hermione."

Johnny nodded, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Evelyn and Johnny swept the second floor once more, before heading back down to the Great Hall just in time to catch Dumbledore, with Percy striding towards him.

"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 Grindelwald 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."

"The second floor is all clear," Evelyn informed Dumbledore patted Johnny on the shoulder.

The of the hall creak open, and more footsteps.

"Headmaster?" It was Snape.. "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 Grindelwald to linger."

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

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

"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.

"What're you implying, Professor?" Johnny asked, speaking up for the first time in front of the others.

"It seems -- almost impossible -- that your father could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns --"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Grindelwald 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. Johnny, you've had a long, hard night, and I'm afraid your mental health might have taken a hit, so please, go rest next to Ms. Granger, and just know I'm very proud of all you accomplished tonight."

Johnny nodded, breathing heavily as his mother kissed his cheek, Snape nodded in his direction, and Dumbledore patted his shoulder.

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, Evelyn following close behind with a glare on her face.

Johnny got into his sleeping bag that was next to Hermione's. Johnny glanced sideways at Harry, Ron and Hermione. All three of them had their eyes open too, reflecting the starry ceiling.

"What was all that about?" Ron mouthed.

The school talked of nothing but Jakob Grindelwald 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 gray 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 a complete lunatic," said Seamus angrily to Johnny at breakfast after word travelled around he was the new Student Headmaster. "Can't we get anyone else?"

"None of the other pictures wanted the job," Johnny explained, almost falling asleep in his cereal. "Frightened of what happened to the Fat Lady. Sir Cadogan was the only one brave enough to volunteer."

Johnny and Harry was now being closely watched. Teachers found excuses to walk along corridors with them, and Percy (acting on his mother's orders) was tailing them everywhere like an extremely pompous guard dog. To cap it all, Professor McGonagall summoned Harry and Johnny into her office, with such a somber expression on her face Johnny thought someone must have died.

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

"We know he's after me ad he's trying to kidnap Johnny," said Harry wearily. "We heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic."

Professor McGonagall seemed very taken aback. She stared at them for a moment or two, then said, "I see! Well, in that case, boys, you'll understand why I don't think it's a good idea for you to be practicing Quidditch in the evenings. Out on the field with only your team members, it's very exposed --"

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

Professor McGonagall considered them intently. Johnny knew she was deeply interested in the Gryffindor team's prospects.

"Hmm..."Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. "Well...goodness knows, I'd like to see us win the Cup at last, no offence Grindelwald...but all the same...I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions."

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 was looking very smug indeed.

Word went around that Slytherin were no long playing Gryffindor in the first match. Flint put blame on Johnny's arm, but really it was so they didn't have to play in the rain. So now Gryffindor were playing Hufflepuff.

Harry and Johnny skidded to a halt outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pulled the door open, and dashed inside.

"Sorry we're late, Professor Lupin. I --"

But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher's desk; it was Snape.

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

As usual, Snape didn't acknowledge his own house was in the wrong too, but Harry didn't move as Johnny sat next to Hermione.

"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 were. "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 Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Johnny 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 overtaxing you -- I would expect first years to be able to deal with Red Caps and Grindylows. Today we shall discuss --"

Johnny 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 am teaching this lesson, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page 394." 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. Johnny would put his hand up, only problem being that he was asleep on his book, no one taking any notice of him.

"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 Parvati 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.

"What's wrong?" Johnny jumped awake very suddenly, having a strange feeling in his stomach. He glanced between Snape and Hermione, then he realised what happened when Ron mouthed it to him.

"You asked us a question and she knows the answer! Why ask if you don't want to be told?" Johnny said, slamming his hands down on the desk, glaring heatedly at Snape. The class knew instantly he'd gone too far. Snape advanced on Johnny slowly, and the room held its breath.

"Detention, Grindelwald," Snape said silkily, his face very close to Johnny's. "And if I ever hear you criticize the way I teach a class again, you will be very sorry indeed."

"What're you going to do?" Johnny snarled. "Blood quill? Maybe the Cruciatus Curse? Or maybe set your old pals on me?"

"That's two detentions, Grindelwald," Snape sneered. "Now sit down before your privileges get revoked."

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..."

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. Grindelwald, stay behind, we need to arrange your detention."

Johnny caught up with them five minutes later, in a towering rage.

"D'you know what that cunt is making me do? I've got to scrub out the bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic!" Johnny was breathing deeply, his fists clenched. "Why couldn't my father have hidden in Snape's office, eh? He could have finished him off for us! It would've been the best thing my father ever done for me anyway."

Johnny woke extremely early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him. Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright -- Peeves the Poltergeist had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.

"What did you do that for?" said Johnny furiously. Peeves puffed out his cheeks, blew hard, and zoomed backward out of the room, cackling.

Johnny fumbled for his alarm clock and looked at it. It was half past four. Cursing Peeves, he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep, but it was very difficult, now that he 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, and the waves of the lake crashing against the window. In a few hours he would be out on the Quidditch field, battling through that gale to see Harry in action. Finally, he gave up any thought of more sleep, got up, dressed, and walked quietly out of the dormitory.

As Johnny opened the door, something brushed against his leg. He bent down just in time to grab Crookshanks by the end of his bushy tail and drag him outside.

"What're you doing in here?" Johnny asked Crookshanks suspiciously. "You better not be shagging my Quorra, because you'll make a fine fucking tea cosy if you do."

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Johnny knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. He always was when watching his cousin.

Johnny whiled away the hours until dawn in front of the fire, getting up every now and then to stretch. Crookshanks lay peacefully sleeping in Johnny's lap, purring as Johnny idly stroked him. At long last Johnny thought it must be time for breakfast, so he headed through the hole alone.

The Great Hall was practically empty when Johnny entered. There was only Dumbledore sat in his chair, calling out a cheery good morning as Johnny sat at the Gryffindor table.

He revived a bit over a large bowl of porridge, and by the time he'd started on toast, the rest of the Gryffindor's 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 toward the Quidditch field, heads bowed against the ferocious wind, umbrellas being whipped out of their hands as they went.

"Lucky the ground was so soft."

"I thought he was dead for sure."

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

Harry could hear the voices whispering, but they made no sense whatsoever. He didn't have a clue where he was, or how he'd got there, or what he'd been doing before he got there. All he knew was that every inch of him 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's eyes snapped open. He was lying in the hospital wing. The Gryffindor Quidditch team, spattered with mud from head to foot, was gathered around his bed. Ron, Johnny, and Hermione were also there, looking as though they'd just climbed out of a swimming pool.

"Harry!" said Fred, who looked extremely white underneath, the mud. "How're you feeling?"

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

"You fell off," said Johnny. "Must've been -- what -- fifty feet?"

"We thought you'd died," said Alicia, who was shaking.

Hermione made a small, squeaky noise. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot.

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

No one said anything.

"We didn't -- lose?"

"Diggory got the Snitch," said Johnny, feeling sorry for Harry. "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 rematch. But they won fair and square...even Wood admits it."

"Where is Wood?" said Harry.

"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. 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 loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin..."

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw..."

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good. But if Slytherin loses against Hufflepuff..."

"Which we won't," Johnny pointed out.

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

After ten minutes or so, Madam Pomfrey came over to tell the team to leave him 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."

The team trooped out, trailing mud behind them. Madam Pomfrey shut the door behind them, looking disapproving. Johnny, Ron and Hermione moved nearer to Harry's bed.

"Dumbledore was really angry," Hermione said in a quaking voice. "I've never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field 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 right away...He was furious they'd come onto the grounds. We heard him --"

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

His voice faded. Harry looked up and saw Johnny, Ron and Hermione looking at him so anxiously that he quickly cast around for something matter-of-fact to say.

"Did someone get my Nimbus?"

Johnny, 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 insides lurched.

"And?" he said, dreading the answer.

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

"Professor Flitwick brought it back just before you came around," said Hermione in a very small voice.

Slowly, Johnny 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.