Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“ahhh”   

“Remember to breathe, babe”   

“I am breathing, James! You try pushing two babies the size of watermelons out of a small hole in your body!”   

On the 31st of July 1980, two miracles were born to two very young parents. Lily and James Potter were only 20 years old but they had been together for 2  years and married for nearly 1 year. The two were madly in love and having children was the next step. You may think this is was fast, the two are very young after all, but the two didn’t know how long they had. You see the world they lived in was at war and those two were at the centre of it.  But on that day, the 31 st July 1980, the two forgot all about the war. All that was on their minds was the birth of their twins. First born was a little boy they named Harry James Potter. The second born was a little boy called Jacob Fleamont Potter. The twins looked identical, except for their hair. Both boys had emerald green eyes and a thin facial, structure. But Harry had his father’s raven black coloured hair while Jacob had his mother's red hair.   

The twins were the apple of their parents’ eyes. The parents were absolutely smitten with them. No matter how hard the war got or that a prophecy made the family go into hiding, the twins always cheered them up. For a year, the little family were really close. The twins were best friends and would cry if they couldn’t see each other. The Potter house was one of joy, blocking out all the chaos and sadness of the war. But then tragedy struck. Halloween 1981 happened and the twin’s lives were never the same again.   

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It was a dark cold night. The streets of Godric’s Hollow were filled with children in costumes trick or treating. The streets were filled with giggles and lanterns. At the end of the street, there was an invisible house. To everyone else it just seems like a patch of grass but to those who know, that house was number 12 Church street, Godric’s Hollow.   

From the outside, you would think no one lives there but as soon as you go inside, you will know straight away. The inside of the house was beautiful. It had this cottage core feel. Everything seemed to have a place. The only things out of place were all the baby toys all over the floor. There were so many family pictures all over the walls. The house was amazing. Upstairs in the nursery was the family that occupy this amazing house. There was a young man and woman playing with two one-year-old babies. The young man had messy raven coloured hair and round glasses appeared in the mirror. He was wearing a quidditch t-shirt and black joggers.  The young woman had fiery red hair. She was wearing a dirty red t-shirt and blue jeans. She had her hair flowing down. The two babies wearing grey onesies but one baby had black hair and one had red hair. The small, but cute, family were playing with a tiny broom that was floating off the floor slightly with the black haired baby sat on top of it.    

The red headed baby was in his mother’s arms, playing with a toy train. “And off you go Harry!” The young man cheered the baby on as the broom started moving “look at our son, Lily, he is going to be a quidditch star”. Lily smiled as she watched her husband and son have fun “Harry can be whoever he wants, James. Just like Jacob can be whatever he wants” Lily said, smiling. Jacob giggled at that.   James nods “but look at him go. Oh, I miss quidditch. Oh oh oh when this is all over we need to throw a quidditch party? Speaking of party, what are we doing for Sirius’s birthday its in 3 days?” Lily giggles at her husband’s antics before putting a hand on his shoulder and saying “when this is all over and everyone is safe. We will throw a party. A party because we won and a party to remember those we los-“   

Knock knock knock.   

Lily was interrupted by knocking at the front door, so she pulls away from James, grabs Harry and stands up with the twins. “Who is that, James? It’s not Sirius he just walks in” She asked as James face lights up “Peter!”. James rushes out of the room without a wand. “James wait” lily runs after him but by the time she’s at the top of the stairs, James was opening the door.   

“Lily it’s him!! Hide!!”   

Lily quickly ran back to the nursery. At the door there was a man. The man had dark black hair and red eyes. He had really pale skin, almost white and a really small nose. His skin was a contrast to the dark black suit that he was wearing and the black cape he was wearing around the suit. In his hand was a cream wand that was pointing directly at James. James tries to find his wand only to realise he left it. ‘Oh no’. James makes fists with his hand ready to fist fight Voldemort to protect his family.    

“Avada Kedavra”   

A bright green light blasted out of the man’s wand. The light hit James square in the chest. A creepy cackle filled the room.   

THUD!   

James’s lifeless body hit the floor. His glasses smashed and the frame slid off his face. His eyes were empty. There was nothing behind them. No soul. No life. No anything. The eyes were just staring at nothingness. One of his arms fell limp, reaching up the stairs as if he was reaching for lily as his hands unclenched. The man stepped over his body and gladded up the stairs to find lily. He blasted every door open with a bang until he heard a voice behind a door.   

“Mama loves you Harry, Jacob”   

The man laughs and blasts the door open. He finds Harry and Jacob in Harry's cot reaching for Lily who is standing in front of the coat in a protective stance.  

 “Stay away from my babies!”  

“You don’t have to die Lily. You know i hate to spill magic blood. Move out of the way”   

“Never”   

“Just let me kill the kids and you can live”   

“I will not let you kill my sons”   

“This is your last chance, Lily. Move out of the way and live and be with Severus. Or die with your husband and sons”    

“I won’t let you kill my sons”   

Lily grabs her wand and goes to shoot but the man was quicker.  

“Avada Kedavra”   

The room filled with a green light as while as Lily’s high pitched scream. The spell hit her in the middle of the chest and she went down like a stack of cards. All her limbs went numb. Her lifeless eyes rolled to the back of her head. Lily and James were together again.   

The man creeps towards the one year olds, wand in hand. “Harry Potter, Jacob Potter, at last we meet and at last you die” Harry just looks up at him and giggles, reaching for his nose. Jacob glares at the man.  The man does a lighting shape movement with his wand and yells “Avada Kedavra”. The all familiar green light came barrelling at the twins, but instead of killing them like it did with James and Lily, the light bounces off of them and back on to the man. One second the man was there, the next there was a big explosion and he was gone but his wand and burning robes were there. Harry bursts out crying. Jacob hugs his twin.   

The boys were left with nothing but identical lightening scars. But Harry’s was on his forehead for all to see and Jacob’s was on his shoulder, hidden away  

 As the clock in the nursery struck midnight, there were footsteps heard downstairs. Downstairs in the hallway of the potter house, there was a man. The man had greasy black shoulder length hair and was wearing a black robe. He had a big crooked nose and a scowl on his face. The man was standing over a body. The body of an old bully. The body’s eyes were empty. There was nothing behind them. No soul. No life. No anything. The eyes were just staring at nothingness. One of the body’s arms was limply pointing up the stairs as if it was reaching for someone. The body was lifeless and limp. The body showed no pain much to the man’s disappointment. This was the body of James Potter. The man stepped over the lifeless body and all of the baby toys to run up stairs.  

 He ran towards the nursery. He gasped in shock at what he saw. There on the floor, in front of a crying baby and a silent baby in a crib, was another body. The body of the woman the man loved. The body was limp and numb. The body’s eyes had rolled to the back of the head. The body’s face was covered in tears. The man rushed over to kneel next to the body. He pulled it on to his lap and cradled her while one baby continued to cry and one baby glared at him. “Oh Lily. My Lily” the man mumbled as he cried and cuddled the lifeless body. The man stayed like that for just over an hour. Just cradling a body and crying while ignoring the babies behind him. When he finally left, he just got up and left. He didn’t take the babies with him. He didn’t tell anyone about the bodies and the babies. He just left.   

About two to three hours later, a different man appeared downstairs in the hallway. This man had messy knotted up shoulder length black hair that was held up in a messy bun by a wand. The man was wearing a white shirt that said Pink Floyd on it and black ripped jeans. He was also wearing a leather jacket. Under his eyes, there were black bags showing how tired he was. This man looked down to notice the lifeless body on the ground and he collapsed to the floor in tears of anger and sadness “no James no! Peter that rat!!!”. It was then that he heard crying from upstairs. Despite still silently crying for his dead best friend and despite being full of anger, the man rushed upstairs to find the body of Lily, Harry crying and Jacob giggling upon seeing Sirius. Seeing Lily dead made the man even more angry but he kept his cool because he needed to sooth his godson and Jacob. The man quickly picked Harry up and started rocking him. “Shh it’s okay, Harry.  Uncle Padfoot has you. Hey Jacob.”.  

After a bit, Harry finally calmed down but now there were more footsteps downstairs. Picking Jacob up, the man quickly grabbed his wand and storms downstairs to see a giant man, crying over the body on the floor. The man had wild, long tangles of bushy black hair and his beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet, in their leather boots, were like baby dolphins. “S-Sirius what happened?” The man said to Padfoot. “He killed them all. James and lily. Both of them are dead, Hagrid.”  That just made Hagrid cry more.  “W-what about poor Harry and Jacob?” He asked. Sirius pushed the sleeping baby and giggling Jacob into Hagrid’s arms. “Voldemort is nowhere to be seen but he left his wand and Harry now has a scar. Now take Harry and Jacob to Remus, wherever he is, I’ll be back. You can use my bike” Sirius says as he was about to walk out of the door.  

“W-where are you going?”   

“To kill a rat”   

And with that Sirius disappeared leaving Hagrid with the baby and a motorbike.   

Hagrid slowly walked to the bike and put the babies in the tag along part of the bike. He wrapped him up in a blanket before climbing on the bike and flying away.   

Later that night, in a town called Surrey, in a street called Privet Drive, an elderly man with crimson robes and a long silvery beard walked out of a forest near the street, past a tabby cat standing next to what looks like a shed and on top of a mini wall. He takes out this weird looking thing from his pocket and presses a button on it. Suddenly, all the lights from the lamp posts disappeared into the machine. The man then puts the device away. Suddenly the cat meows, causing the man to look down at the cat. “I should have known that you would be here, Professor McGonagall.”  The cat silently looks at him before jumping off the wall. As the cat jumped, it slowly transformed into a woman wearing a tall hat and emerald robes.  “Good evening, Professor Dumbledore. Are the rumours true, Albus?” The woman spoke to the man.   

“I’m afraid so, Professor. The good, and the bad.”   

“And the boys?”  

“Hagrid is bringing them.”  

“Do you think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?”  

“Ah, Professor, I would trust Hagrid with my life.”   

There was a motor sound, and the two professors looked up to see a flying motorcycle coming down from the air. It skids on the street and halts. Hagrid pulled the goggles off his face and spoke “Professor Dumbledore, Sir. Professor McGonagall.”  Albus smiled and asked “No problems, I trust, Hagrid?”  Hagrid quickly nods “No, sir. The Little tykes fell asleep just as we were flying over Bristol. Heh. Try not to wake them. There you go.” As Hagrid passes the two babies all wrapped up to Albus, McGonagall decided to ask “Albus, do you really think it’s safe, leaving them with these people? I’ve watched them all day. They’re the worst sort of Muggles imaginable. They really are…”  but Dumbledore cut her off “The only family they have”. The three slowly walk with the babies to number 4 where they stop and stare. McGonagall continued to try and explain why the boys shouldn’t be here but Dumbledore was having none of it.  

“Harry will be famous. There won’t be a child in our world who doesn’t know his name.”   

“Exactly. He’s better off growing up away from all that. Until he is ready. And we can’t split the twins up”   

Albus slowly placed the babies on the ground as Hagrid sniffled, he was sobbing a little. Albus clears his throat and tries to comfort him “There, there, Hagrid. It’s not really goodbye, after all.” As Hagrid nods, Albus takes a letter and places it on baby Harry “Good luck... Harry Potter.” The man whispered.  And with that the three disappeared leaving the two babies here alone in the cold.   

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Everything changed after that day. The twins were no longer happy. The twins were no longer super close. The twins were no longer the apple of their parents' eye. The twins didn’t even know the truth about their parents. They believed James and Lily were no good drunks that died in a car crash. The two boys grew up as slaves to their aunt, uncle and cousin. The two boys grew up as freaks because accidents just seem to happen around them. Accidents like a snake talking to them and then the glass disappearing when Dudley (their cousin shoved them out of the way). Accidents like the twins disappearing and ending up on the school roof while Dudley and his gang were chasing them. Accidents like vases exploding when the two boys were frustrated. Accidents like things going flying when the boys were angry. The two boys grew up as victims of abuse and bullying from their family. The two boys grew up in a closet under the stairs. The two boys grew up with punishments like Food being taken away and slaps. The two boys grew up in a horrible situation. But Jacob got the worst of it. Unlike Harry, Jacob would fight back more. Unlike Harry, Jacob would always sassy the adults and be sarcastic to them. So he got punished a lot more than Harry and he got locked in that cupboard for days on end.   

With a horrible life like this, it was no surprise that the two boys were counting down to their 18 th birthday when they could finally leave. But things changed dramatically in the summer 1991. In the lead up to the twin’s 11 th birthday, the two boys started receiving tons and tons of letters from this one place. A place called Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry and the funny thing is the letters were delivered by owls who seemed to know that the twins lived in the cupboard under the stairs. These letters seemed to freak Vernon and Petunia. Vernon seemed to go crazy trying to stop these letters. He locked up the letterbox plate. He blocked the chimney.  But west threw him over the age was when so many letters arrived they broke the blockers and filled the whole house. On the 30th July  1991, Vernon ended up moving the whole family to a little run down house in the middle of a massive lake in the middle of nowhere. However at midnight, something magical happened.   

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As night fell, the promised storm blew up around them. Spray from the high waves splattered the walls of the hut and a fierce wind rattled the filthy windows. Aunt Petunia found a few mouldy blankets in the second room and made up a bed for Dudley on the moth-eaten sofa. She and Uncle Vernon went off to the lumpy bed next door, and the twins were left to find the softest bit of floor they could and to curl up under the thinnest, most ragged blanket. 1 blanket for two boys to share. The storm raged more and more ferociously as the night went on. Harry and Jacob couldn’t sleep. They shivered and turned over, trying to get comfortable, their stomachs rumbling with hunger. Dudley’s snores were drowned by the low rolls of thunder that started near midnight. The lighted dial of Dudley’s watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told the twins  they’d be eleven in ten minutes’ time. The twi lay and watched their birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.  

Five minutes to go.   

Jacob heard something creak outside. He hoped the roof wasn’t going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.   

Four minutes to go.   

Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that he’d be able to steal one somehow.  

Three minutes to go.   

Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock like that? And   

(Two minutes to go)  

what was that funny crunching noise? Was the rock crumbling into the sea?  

One minute to go and they’d be eleven.   

Thirty seconds…  

 twenty…   

ten…   

nine —  

Maybe he’d wake Dudley up, just to annoy him —  

 three…   

two…   

one…  

BOOM.  

The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at the door. Jacob slowly sat up and faced the door. Someone was outside, trying to get in.   

BOOM.   

They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake. “Where’s the cannon?” he said stupidly. There was a crash behind them and Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands — now they knew what had been in the long, thin package he had brought with them. “Who’s there?” he shouted. “I warn you — I’m armed!” There was a pause. Then —   

SMASH!   

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor. A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all. “Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey…” He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear. “Budge up, yeh great lump,” said the stranger. Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon. “an’ here’s Harry. I don’ remember ya being ginger” said the giant staring at Jacob. Jacob glared at him but before he could sass the giant, Harry spoke up “I’m Harry. This is my twin, Jacob”. Hagrid pulled a confused face. “I don’ remember there being two of ya but oh well you both still go’ ya mom’s eyes bu’ Harry you have your dad’s hair” Hagrid said, shrugging.   

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise. “I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!” he said. “Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune,” said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon’s hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room. Uncle Vernon made another funny noise, like a mouse being trodden on. “Anyway — Harry.... and Jacob, I supose” said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, “a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here — I mighta sat on it at some point, but it’ll taste all right.” From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box that he passed to Harry. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing. Harry looked up at the giant. Jacob rolled his eyes at the cake and turned to the giant. “who are you?” he asked. The giant chuckled. “True, I haven’t introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.” He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry’s whole arm, not Jacobs.   

“What about that tea then, eh?” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I’d not say no ter summat stronger if yeh’ve got it, mind.” His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn’t see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Jacob felt the warmth wash over him as though he’d sunk into a hot bath.   

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, “Don’t touch anything he gives you, Dudley.” The giant chuckled darkly. “Yer great puddin’ of a son don’ need fattenin’ anymore, Dursley, don’ worry.” He passed the sausages to Harry and Jacob, who was so hungry they had never tasted anything so wonderful, but the twins still couldn’t take their eyes off the giant.  

Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, Harry said, “I’m sorry, but I still don’t really know who you are.” The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Call me Hagrid, everyone does. An’ like I told yeh, I’m Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts — yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’ course.” he said. “Er — no,” said Jacob. Hagrid looked shocked. “Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “Sorry? It’ s them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren’t gettin’ yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn’t even know abou’ Hogwarts, fer cryin’ out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?” barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. “All what?” asked Harry. “ALL WHAT?” Hagrid thundered. “Now wait jus’ one second!” He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. The Dursleys were cowering against the wall. “Do you mean ter tell me,” he growled at the Dursleys, “that this boy — these boys! — know nothin’ abou’ — about ANYTHING?” Jacob thought this was going a bit far. He had been to school, after all, and his marks weren’t bad. “We know some things,” Jacob said. “we can, you know, do math and stuff. We’re not dumb” But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, “About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents’ world.” Jacob looked at Harry with a ‘this man is crazy’ look. “What world?” Harry asked. Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.   

“DURSLEY!”   

 Uncle Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like   

“Mimblewimble. But yeh must know about yet mom and dad, I mean, they’re famous. You’re famous.”   

“What? Our — our mom and dad weren’t famous, were they?” Harry mumbled to Jacob. “no they were no good drunks” Jacob mumbled back   

“Yeh don’ know… yeh don’ know… Yeh don’ know what yeh are?”  

Uncle Vernon suddenly found his voice. “Stop!” he commanded. “Stop right there, sit! I forbid you to tell the boy anything!” A braver man than Vernon Dursley would have quailed under the furious look Hagrid now gave him; when Hagrid spoke, his every syllable trembled with rage. “You never told him.... them? Never told then what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer them? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An’ you’ve kept it from them all these years?” Jacob glared ay them.  “Kept what from us?” said Harry eagerly. “STOP! I FORBID YOU!” yelled Uncle Vernon in panic. Aunt Petunia gave a gasp of horror. “Ah, go boil yet heads, both of yeh,” said Hagrid. “Harry, Jacob — yer a wizard.”   

There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.  

 “I'm a what? We’re a what?” gasped Harry. “A wizard, o' course,” said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, “an' a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter. I did wonder why i had two to hand over” Hagrid handed the twins a yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to MR. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut on the Rock, The Sea and MR. J. Potter, The Floor, Hut on the Rock, The Sea. Jacob and Harry pulled out the letters and read:   

“ HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)  

Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.  

Yours sincerely,  

Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress.”  

 Questions exploded inside Jacob's head like fireworks and he couldn't decide which to ask first. After a few minutes, “What does it mean, they await our owls?” Harry asked a question. “Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me,” said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl — a real, live, rather ruffled looking owl — a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Jacob could read upside down:   

Dear Professor Dumbledore,  

Given Harry and Jacob their letters. Taking them to buy their things tomorrow. Weather's horrible. Hope you're well.  

Hagrid  

 Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone. Jacob quickly tapped Harry on shoulder to say his mouth was open. He closed it quickly. “Where was I?” said Hagrid, but at that moment, Uncle Vernon, still ashen faced but looking very angry, moved into the firelight. “Thdir not going,” he said. Hagrid grunted. “I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him,” he said. “A what?” said Harry, interested. “A Muggle, it’s what we call non-magic folk like them. An’ it’s your bad luck you grew up in a family o’ the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on.” said Hagrid, “We swore when we took them in we'd put a stop to that rubbish, swore we'd stamp it out of them! Wizard indeed!” said Uncle Vernon, “You knew? You knew we are..... wizards?” Jacob snapped turning to the others, anger in his eyes.  

“Knew! Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that — that school — and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was — a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!”   

Aunt Petunia stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.  

“Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had you two, and of course I knew you’d be just the same, just as strange, just as — as — abnormal — and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!”   

Harry had gone very white. But Jacob was filled with anger. “You lied to us! You told us they died in a car crash because they were drunk! How is that getting blown up?” he snapped.  “CAR CRASH! How could a car crash kill Lily an’ James Potter? It’s an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin’ his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!” roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys scuttled back to their corner.  “But why? What happened?” Harry asked urgently. The anger faded from Hagrid’s face. He looked suddenly anxious.  

“I never expected this, I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble gettin’ hold of yeh, how much yeh didn’t know. Ah, Harry, Jacob, I don’ know if I’m the right person ter tell yeh — but someone’s gotta — yeh can’t go off ter Hogwarts not knowin’. Well, it’s best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh — mind, I can’t tell yeh everythin’, it’s a great myst’ry, parts of it… It begins, I suppose, with — with a person called — but it’s incredible yeh don’t know his name, everyone in our world knows — ”  

 “Who?” Jacob asked   

“Well — I don’ like sayin’ the name if I can help it. No one does.”   

“Why not?” Harry asked.   

 “Gulpin’ gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was…”   

Hagrid gulped, but no words came out. “Could you write it down?” Harry suggested.  

“Nah can’t spell it. All right — Voldemort. Don’t make me say it again. Anyway, this — this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin’ fer followers. Got ‘em, too — some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o’ his power, ‘cause he was gettin’ himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry, Jacob. Didn’t know who ter trust, didn’t dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches… terrible things happened. He was takin’ over. ‘ Course, some stood up to him — an’ he killed ‘em. Horribly. One o’ the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn’t dare try takin’ the school, not jus’ then, anyway. Now, yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an’ girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst’ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get ‘em on his side before… probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin’ ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade ‘em… maybe he just wanted ‘em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You both were just a year old. He came ter yer house an’ — an’ — ”   

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.   

“Sorry, But it’s that sad — knew yer mum an’ dad, an’ nicer people yeh couldn’t find — anyway… You-Know-Who killed ‘em. An’ then — an’ this is the real myst’ry of the thing — he tried to kill you, too, Harry.  Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin’ by then. But he couldn’t do it. Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead, Harry? That was no ordinary cut. That’s what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh — took care of yer mum an’ dad an’ yer house, even — but it didn’t work on you, an’ that’s why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill ‘em, no one except you, an’ he’d killed some o’ the best witches an’ wizards of the age — the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts — an’ you was only a baby, an’ you lived.”   

Something very painful was going on in Jacob’s mind. As Hagrid’s story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before — and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh. Jacob's shoulder began to hurt as Hagrid talked about Harry’s scar. Hagrid was watching him sadly.  

 “Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore’s orders. Brought yeh ter this lot…”  

“Load of old tosh,” said Uncle Vernon. Harry jumped. Jacob just rolled his eyes at his twin. Uncle Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at Hagrid and his fists were clenched. “Now, you listen here, boys,” he snarled, “I accept there’s something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn’t have cured — and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world’s better off without them in my opinion — asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types — just what I expected, always knew they’d come to a sticky end — ” But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he said, “I’m warning you, Dursley — I’m warning you — one more word…” In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a bearded giant, Uncle Vernon’s courage failed again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent. “That’s better,” said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor. Harry and Jacob, meanwhile, still had questions to ask, hundreds of t hem. “But what happened to Vol — , sorry — I mean, You-Know-Who?” Harry asked   

“Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That’s the biggest myst’ry, see… he was gettin’ more an’ more powerful — why’d he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he’s still out there, bidin’ his time, like, but I don’ believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of ‘em came outta kinda trances. Don’ reckon they could’ve done if he was comin’ back. Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. ‘Cause somethin’ about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin’ goin’ on that night he hadn’t counted on — I dunno what it was, no one does — but somethin’ about you stumped him, all right.”   

Hagrid looked at Harry with warmth and respect blazing in his eyes. Jacob was beginning to hate Hagrid. This man must be completely crazy to believe all this. This man forgot he even existed. This man didn’t even know about Jacob’s matching scar. Who did this man think he was?   

“Hagrid,” Harry said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think we can be wizards”. Harry must hage been having simular thoughts.  To his surprise, Hagrid chuckled. “Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?”  Jacob froze slightly. He thought about all the freakish accidents he and Harry had growing up. Was that proof they were wizards?  “See?” said Hagrid. “Harry Potter and his twin, not a wizard — you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts, Harry.” But Uncle Vernon wasn’t going to give in without a fight.   

“Haven’t I told you their not going? Their going to Stonewall High and they’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and they need all sorts of rubbish — spell books and wands and —”    

“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop them, Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s sons goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. Their name’s been down ever since they were born. Their off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and they won’t know himself. They’ll be with youngsters of their own sort, fer a change, an’ they’ll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled —”   

 “I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.   

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, “NEVER,” he thundered, “ — INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE — IN — FRONT — OF — ME!” He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Jacob saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers. Uncle Vernon roared. Pulling Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, he cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them. Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.  

“Shouldn’ta lost me temper, but it didn’t work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn’t much left ter do. Be grateful if yeh didn’t mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts,.I’m — er — not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin’. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an’ get yer letters to yeh an’ stuff — one o’ the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job — ”  

“Why aren’t you supposed to do magic?” asked Jacob, glaring at the man.   

“Oh, well — I was at Hogwarts meself but I — er — got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an’ everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”  

 “Why were you expelled?” Jacob demanded to know. Could this man be trusted? Did Jacob need to grab his twin and get out of there quick? He needed to know.   

“It’s gettin’ late and we’ve got lots ter do tomorrow, Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an’ that.” Hagrid took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry. “You two can kip under that,” he said. “Don’ mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o’ dormice in one o’ the pockets.”.   

Jacob woke up to the sound of Harry mumbling to himself. “It was a dream, I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I’ll be at home in my cupboard.” Jacob rolled his eyes and sat up, causing the coat to fall off of him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.   

“Harry wake up. It wasn’t a dream. The man we can’t trust is still here” Jacob said, shaking Harry. Harry groaned but open his eyes to sit up but as soon he saw Hagrid he jumped up and ran to the window. Jacob had to watch as Harry jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn’t wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid’s coat, that was still on Jacob’s lap. “Stop it!” Jacob snapped. “Don’t do that.” Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat. Jacob quickly threw the coat on the floor and jumped up. “Hagrid! There’s an owl” said Harry loudly. “Pay him,” Hagrid grunted into the sofa. “What?” Jacob stared at the man. He couldn’t be serious. “He wants payin’ fer deliverin’ the paper. Look in the pockets.” Hagrid’s coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets — bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags... finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. “Give him five Knuts,” said Hagrid sleepily. “Knuts?” Jacob riased an eye brow at him. “The little bronze ones.” Harry counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then he flew off through the open window. Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched. “Best be Off, Harry, Jacob, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an’ buy all yer stuff fer school.” Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. “Hagrid? We don’t have money and our uncle isn’t going to pay for anything.” Jacob said, staring at the giant. “Don’t worry about that, D’yeh think yer parents didn’t leave yeh anything?” said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head.   

“But if their house was destroyed —” Harry said while Jacob nodded, slowly.  “They didn’ keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards’ bank. Have a sausage, they’re not bad cold — an’ I wouldn’ say no teh a bit o’ yer birthday cake, neither.”   

“Wizards have banks?” Harry askedv  

“Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins.”  

“Goblins?” Jacob smirked. This man definitely needed help..  

“Yeah — so yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it, I’ll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe — ‘cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o’ fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business. He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin’ you gettin’ things from Gringotts — knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin’? Come on, then.”  

The twins followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm. "How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat. "Flew," said Hagrid. "Flew?" Jacob said, gobsmacked. "Yeah — but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh." They settled down in the boat, Jacob still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying. "Seems a shame ter row, though, If I was ter — er — speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin’ it at Hogwarts?" said Hagrid, giving the boys another of his sideways looks. "Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.  

 "Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?"   

 "Spells — enchantments, They say there's dragons guardin' the highsecurity vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way — Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."   

Jacob rolled his eyes but the two boys fell silent as Hagrid started reading a newspaper called The Daily Prophet. They had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, they had never had so many questions in his life. "Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page. "There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself. "'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, 0 ' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."  Jacob sighed. So bad governments are everywhere.   

"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"   

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."   

"Why?"  

 "Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."   

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street. Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Jacob couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?" Hagrid was so a giant man walking with two 11 year olds, that looked nothing like him, that were struggling to keep up. "Hagrid, did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?" said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "Well, so they say, Crikey, I'd like a dragon." said Hagrid. "You'd like one?" Jacob said, staring at him. "Wanted one ever since I was a kid — here we go."  

 They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to Harry and Jacob so they could buy their tickets. People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent. "Still got yer letters, Harry, Jacob?" he asked as he counted stitches. Harry and Jacob quickly too the envelopes out of their pockets. "Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need." Jacob unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn’t noticed the night before, and read:   

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY UNIFORM  

First-year students will require:  

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags  

COURSE BOOKS  

All students should have a copy of each of the following:  

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  

A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch  

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore  

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble  

OTHER EQUIPMENT  

Wand  

cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  

set glass or crystal phials telescope set  

brass scales  

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.  

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.  

 “Can we buy all this in London?” Harry wondered aloud. “If yeh know where to go,” said Hagrid. The twins had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow. “I don’t know how the Muggles manage without magic,” he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops. Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry and Jacob had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people.   

“This is it,” said Hagrid, coming to a halt, “the Leaky Cauldron. It’s a famous place.” It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn’t pointed it out, Jacob wouldn’t have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn’t glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn’t see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Jacob had the most peculiar feeling that only he, Harry and Hagrid could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered them inside.   

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying,   

“The usual, Hagrid?”   

“Can’t, Tom, I’m on Hogwarts business,”   

“Good Lord, is this — can this be — ?”   

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent. “Bless my soul,” whispered the old bartender, “Harry Potter... what an honor.” He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes. “Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back.”  Jacob sighed. Forgotten once again. Was the rest of his life going to be this? Forgotten or thought to be his twin for the rest of his life because everyone believed Harry filled someone. Great. Jacob watched as everyone tried shaking hands with Harry and introducing themselves. Every once in a while, Jacob had to say “I’m not Harry. I’m Jacob. He’s Harry” because people saw his eyes and thought he was Harry.   

Suddenly a pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching. “Professor Quirrell! Harry, Jacob Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts.” said Hagrid. “P-P-Potter, c-can’t t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you” stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry’s hand,  “What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?” Jacob asked. “D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts,” muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he’d rather not think about it. “N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?” He laughed nervously. “You’ll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I’ve g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself.” He looked terrified at the very thought. But the others wouldn’t let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. “Must get on — lots ter buy. Come on, Harry, Jacob” Doris Crockford shook Harry’s hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.   

Hagrid grinned at Harry. “Told yeh, didn’t I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin’ ter meet yeh — mind you, he’s usually tremblin’.” Jacob rolled his eyes, again. “Is he always that nervous?” he asked. “Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin’ outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience.... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o’ trouble with a hag — never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where’s me umbrella?” Jacob really did not trust a world out of this guys mouth. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can. “Three up... two across” he muttered. “Right, stand back, Harry, Jacob.” He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.   

“Welcome, to Diagon Alley.”   

 They stepped through the archway. The archway shrink instantly back into solid wall as soon as they were through it. The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons — All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver — Self-Stirring — Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them. “Yeah, you’ll be needin’ one,” said Hagrid, “but we gotta get yer money first.”  Jacob turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, “Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they’re mad....” A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium — Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about the boy’s age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. “Look,” Jacpb heard one of them say, “the new Nimbus Two Thousand — fastest ever — “ There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Jacob had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels’ eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon....   

“Gringotts,”   

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was –  “Yeah, that’s a goblin,” said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry and Jacob. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:   

Enter, stranger, but take heed  

Of what awaits the sin of greed,  

For those who take, but do not earn,  

Must pay most dearly in their turn.  

So if you seek beneath our floors  

A treasure that was never yours,  

Thief, you have been warned, beware  

Of finding more than treasure there.  

“Like I said, Yeh’d be mad ter try an’ rob it,” said Hagrid. A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid, Jacob and Harry made for the counter.   

“Morning, We’ve come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry and Jacob Potter’s safe.”  

 “You have their key, Sir?”   

“Got it here somewhere,”   

 Hagrid started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin’s book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Jacob watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. "Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key. The goblin looked at it closely.   

"That seems to be in order."   

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore, It's about the YouKnow-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."  

 "Very well, I will have Someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"  

 Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Jacob and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall. "What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked. "Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that." Griphook held the door open for them. Jacob, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in — Hagrid with some difficulty — and were off.   

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Jacob tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Jacob's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.   

"what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"   

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it, An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."   

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling. Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Jacob heard Harry gasp. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. "All yours, well you both have to share it of course but still" smiled Hagrid. Jacob stared at it in shock. How did they have this much money?  Hagrid helped Harry and Jacob pile some of it into a bag. "The gold ones are Galleons, Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." he explained as bd turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" Jacob grimaced, he did not want to see Hagrid throw up.  "One speed only," said Griphook.   

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.   

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. “Stand back,” said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away. “If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there,” said Griphook. “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?” Jacob asked. “About once every ten years,” said Griphook with a rather nasty grin. Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault so Jacob leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least — but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat.  Jacob didn’t bother to ask.  

“Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don’t talk to me on the way back, it’s best if I keep me mouth shut,”   

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Jacob didn’t know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn’t have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he’d had in his whole life — more money than even Dudley had ever had. “Might as well get yer uniform,” said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. “Listen, Harry, Jacob, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts.” He did still look a bit sick, so the boys entered Madam Malkin’s shop alone, feeling nervous.   

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. “Hogwarts, dear?” she said, when Harry started to speak. “Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact. “ In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. He was kind of pretty in Jacob's mind. Madam Malkin stood Harry and Jacob on a stool (next to him) slipped a long robe over their heads, and began to pin it to the right length, staring with Harry.  “Hello, Hogwarts, too?” said the boy. “yeah.” Jacob replied.   

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands. Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?”   

“No,” said Harry.   

“Play Quidditch at all?”  

 “No,” Harry said again. Jacob was really confused on what Quiddich is.   

“I do — Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”   

“No.” Jacob said, leaving out that part that he didn’t know what he meant by houses.   

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”   

“Mmm,” said Jacob, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting. “I say, look at that man!” said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry, and pointing at three large ice creams to show he couldn’t come in. Madam Malkin moved onto measuring Jacob. "That's Hagrid, He works at Hogwarts." said Harry,  "OH, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?" said the boy, "He's the gamekeeper," said Harry.  "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage — lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."  Jacob smirks. This boy had the same thoughts as him. But Harry didn’t seem very happy.   

"I think he's brilliant,"  

"Do you?"   

"Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”  

"our parents are dead,"   

"Oh, sorry, But they were our kind, weren't they?"  

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."  

 "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"  

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you two done, my dears," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool. Jacob sighed and jumped off "Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy. “see you at Hogwarts” Jacob replied and followed Harry out.   

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought them (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts). "What's up?" said Hagrid. "Nothing," Harry lied. “Harry got in an argument with some boy” Jacob said rolling his eyes. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed colour as you wrote. "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?" When they had left the shop, Harry asked.    

"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know — not knowin' about Quidditch!"  

 "Don't make me feel worse,".  

Jacob rolled his eyes and told Hagrid about the pate boy in Madam Malkin's. "Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were — he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk, Harry. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line 0' Muggles — look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!" This didn’t stop Harry asked questions though.   

"So what is Quidditch?"  

 "It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like — like football in the Muggle world — everyone follows Quidditch — played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls — sorta hard ter explain the rules."  

 "And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"  

 "School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but — "   

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff"   

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin, There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."  

 "Vol-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"   

"Years an' years ago,"   

 They bought Harry's and Jacob’s school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian and Jacob from a book of potions and poisons. “I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley.” Harry replied. Jacob just liked the idea of potions. “I’m not sayin’ that’s not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances,” said Hagrid. “An’ anyway, yeh couldn’ work any of them curses yet, yeh’ll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level.” Hagrid wouldn’t let Harry and Jacob buy a solid gold cauldron, either (“It says pewter on yer list”), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope.   

Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry and Jacob, Jacob himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry’s list again. “Just yer wand left – A yeah, an’ I still haven’t got yeh a birthday present.” Jacob was confused by that. “You don’t have to —” Harry tried to say.  “I know I don’t have to. Tell yeh what, I’ll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh’d be laughed at – an’ I don’ like cats, they make me sneeze. I’ll get yer both an owl. All the kids want owls, they’re dead useful, carry yer mail an’ everythin’.”   

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. Jacob, on the other hand, had somehow convinced Hagrid to buy him a Rat (that was meant to be OWL food” so now had a Rat sat in his pocket. Harry couldn’t stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.    

“Don’ mention it, Don’ expect you’ve had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand.”  

 A magic wand... this was what Jacob had been really looking forward to. The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Jacob felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. “Good afternoon,” said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. Jacob rolled his eyes and looked at the owner of the hello. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.  

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly. Jacob waved hi.   

"Ah yes, Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry and Jacob Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."   

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to the two. Harry and Jacob wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.   

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it — it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."  

 Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose.  "And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do...."   

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.   

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again.... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"   

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.   

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?"   

"Er — yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.   

"But you don't use them?"   

 "Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Jacob noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.  

 "Hmmm, Well, now — Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter. Let me see. Which is your wand arm?"   

He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket.  "Er — well, I'm right-handed," said Harry “and I'm left handed” Jacob replied.   

"Hold out your arms. That's it."   

He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head before doing the same same to Jacob.  

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. And Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."   

Jaco suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.  "That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor.   

"Right then, Mr. H. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Mr. J Potter,  you try this one.  Oakwood and Veela feather. 6 inches. Just take it and give it a wave."   

The two boys took the wands and waved them around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.   

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Beechwood and unicorn hair. Try — "   

The boys tried — but they had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. The two boys spent ages trying different wands with no luck. They had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.   

"Tricky customers , eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere — I wonder, now - - yes, why not — unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. For you Harry."   

Harry took the wand. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... Curious... curious. ." He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering,  "Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?" Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.   

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather — just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar. Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things — terrible, yes, but great." Harry shivered. Mr. Ollivander then went back into the back and came back with a wand for Jacob to try.   

“Black Walnut wood with a dragon heartstring core, 10 ¾ and supple flexibility. Have a try”   

Jacob took the wand and instantly knew this was his wand. His fingers felt all warm and tingly. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, “Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good.”. Jacob was glad to finally leave. The two boys paid seven gold Galleons each for their wands, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.   

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry, Jacob and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry and Jacob didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; thet didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap and a rat in Jacob’s pocket.   

Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Jacob only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder. "Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said. He bought the two boys a hamburger each and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. "You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid. "Everyone thinks I'm special," he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry — I mean, the night our parents died. And they don’t even know about Jacob". Jacob nodded “exactly” he mumbled. Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile. "Don' you worry, Harry, Jacob. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts — I did — still do, 'smatter of fact."   

Hagrid helped Harry and Jacob on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed them a envelope each. "Yer tickets fer Hogwarts, " he said. "First o' September — King's Cross — it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me.... See yeh soon, Harry, Jacob." The train pulled out of the station.   

○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○  

The rest of the summer went smoothly for the twins. The Dursleys had moved them into Dudley’s second bedroom because they were scared more wizards would turn if they were left in the cupboard. The Dursleys also left the twins alone, out of fear that they would use their freakiness on them. Jacob spent the rest of the summer reading up on all the subjects. He wanted to go to Hogwarts with at least some knowledge of the world.   

“Did you really name your rat Mouse?”   

“It’s funny”   

“it’s confusing”   

“exactly”   

Chapter Text

Finally, the day arrived where Harry and Jacob were going to Hogwarts. They were able to convince Vernon to give them a lift to King’s Cross Station because the Dursleys were going to London anyway (to get Dudley’s pig tail removed) but once at the platform, the two were alone. They had to find their platform alone but Platform 9¾  didn’t seem to exist. They asked several people where the platform was but they kept getting dirty looks.   

“I told you that old man was crazy. Bet he was just playing a joke on us and all those people were right, Harry”   

“Maybe your right, Jacob. But what do we do now?”   

Before Jacob could say anything else, the two heard a woman say very loudly “this way to platform 9 ¾”. Harry and Jacob look at each other before rushing towards the voice.  The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry’s and Jacob’s in front of him  —  and they had an owl. The twins quickly followed them. They stopped and so did the twins, just near enough to hear what they were saying  

 “Now, what’s the platform number?”  said the boys’ mother.  

 “Nine and three-quarters! Mom, can’t I go...”  

 “You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet.  All right, Percy, you go first.”  

 What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Jacob watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it  —  but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished.   

 “Fred, you next,”  

 “I’m not Fred, I’m George, Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”  

 “Sorry, George, dear.”  

 “Only joking, I am Fred,” said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone  —  but how had he done it?  Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier he was almost there  —  and then, quite suddenly, he wasn’t anywhere. There was nothing else for it. “Excuse me,” Harry said to the plump woman.  “Hello, dears, First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.” she said, pointing at the last and youngest of her sons. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with freckles, big hands and feet, and a long nose. Jacob waved slightly.  “yeah but we don’t know how to get on the platform” Jacob commented.  “Not to worry,” she said.  “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Ron.” Jacob looked at her like she had gone crazy before watching as Harry pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.  He started to walk toward it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine and ten. Harry walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and ....... disappeared. Jacob sighed and followed after him. He ran straight through the barrier and sighed relief when he landed on a platform instead ending up in hospital.   

 A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O’clock.  Jacob looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it, He had done it.  Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.   

 The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry and Jacob pushed their carts off down the platform in search of an empty seat. They passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.” And heard a old woman sight “Oh, Neville,” A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.  “Give us a look, Lee, go on.”  The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg. Jacob and Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. Harry put Hedwig inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. Jacob quickly followed. They tried to lift their trunks up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice Harry dropped his, painfully on his foot.  

 “Want a hand?”  

 It was one of the red-haired twins they had followed through the barrier. “Yes, please,” Harry panted. “Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!” With the twins’ help, Harry’s and Jacob’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.  “Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. Jacob sighed upon seeing the excited look on the twin’s faces. He knew what was going to happen now.   

 “What’s that?“    

 “Blimey, are you?”  

 “He is, Aren’t you?”   

 “What?”  said Harry. “yes he is Harry Potter. And I’m Jacob. The twins everyone seems to have forgotten”   The two boys gawked at Harry. Jacob felt his anger boiling but then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train’s open door.  

 “Fred? George? Are you there?”  

 “Coming, Mom.”  

 With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. Jacob sighed in relief. “I really hope this stops soon” Jacob muttered. Before long the train started to move, they were off to Hogwarts. The Potter Twins were alone for a while but then there was a knock on the door that shattered Jacob’s peace.   

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in, followed by a small girl. The girl had light brown wavy hair and blue eyes. “Anyone sitting there?” the boy asked, pointing the seat next to Harry, “Everywhere else is full.” Harry shook his head and the boy sat down next to Harry, the girl sat next to Jacob. The two glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending they hadn’t looked.  

 “Hey, Ron.”  

 The redheaded twins were back.  

 “Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train  —  Lee Jordan’s got a giant tarantula down there.  

 “Right,”    

 “Harry, Jacob, did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother, and his best friend, Aurora Tonks. See you later, then.”   

 “Bye,” said Harry, Aurora and Ron. Jacob just nodded. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them. “Are you really Harry Potter?”  Ron blurted out. Jacob sighed as Harry nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry and.... Jacob” Aurora said, smiling. But Ron was too busy questioning Harry on his scar for those two to take notice. “nice to meet you to, I guess” Jacob said, shaking he girls hand, trying not to listen to his twin and the redheaded talk.   

 “Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George’s jokes And have you really got  —  you know... So that’s where You-Know-Who?”   

 “Yes, but we can’t remember it.”  

 “Nothing?”   

 “Well  —  I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else. I think Jacob’s the same”  

 “Wow,”   

Ron sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again. Jacob sighed and started up a knew conversation. “are both your families magical?” he asked. “yeah. Mum comes from a long line if wizards and witch’s but she got disowned for marrying dad. Dad’s a Muggleborn. His parents are muggles. But my siblings, Tonks, is magical as well. They can even change their appearance at will. They graduated hogwarts this summer” Aurora said smiling, causing Jacob to smile slightly. The smile was infectious. “Er  —  Yes, I think so, I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.” said Ron. “So you must know loads of magic already.” Harry asked them both. But the subject was quickly changed by Ron.  “I heard you went to live with Muggles, What are they like?” said Ron. “Horrible -well, not all of them. Or aunt and uncle and cousin are, though.” Jacob replied. “I wish I had more wizarding siblings like you two” Harry said, Jacob gave him a glare.  For some reason, Ron was looking gloomy.  “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts.  You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to.  Bill and Charlie have already left  —  Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Charlie was friends with Aurora’s sister that’s how we know each other.  Now Percy’s a prefect.  Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first.  You never get anything new, either, with five brothers.  I’ve got Bill’s old robes, Charlie’s old wand, and Percy’s old rat.” Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.  “His name’s Scabbers and he’s useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff — I mean, I got Scabbers instead.” Ron’s ears went pink. He seemed to think he’d said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. “i have a rat to” Jacob said pulling his rat out of his pocket. “His name is Mouse”. Jacob smiled at their confused face but before anything else could be said, Harry went on to explain how they grew up with no money and about having to wear Dudley’s old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up. It made Jacob mad though.   

“I have a ragdoll cat called Mittens. She’s currently exploring the train.” Aurora said randomly.   

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of London. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep.  They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past. Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?” Jacob smiled and nodded. He and Harry hadn’t born allowed breakfast that morning and was starving. Aurora and Ron had brought sandwiches though. “we'll have the lot” Harry suddenly said, handing over a ton of money. The compartment ended up being filled with sweets and everyone smiled and tucked in, after Harry gave them permission. Well Everyone but Jacob. Jacob was angry.   

“That money is for both of us, idiot. Don’t use it to buy the whole trolley”   

Harry ignored his outbreak and instead opened a Chocolate frog.   “They’re not really frogs, are they?” Harry asked. Aurora smiled and shook her head. “no. But they do move so you have to ne quick and they come with cards. Ron’s missing  Agrippa.” Aurora explained with a huge smile “huh?” Jacob said, confused.  “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know  —  Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect  —  famous witches and wizards.  I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.” Ron explained. Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man’s face.  He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache.  Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore. “so that’s the Dumbledore guy Hagrid wouldn’t shut up about” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.  “Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Dumbledore!”  said Ron. “Can I have a frog?  I might get Agrippa  —  thanks” Jacob rolled his eyes and grabbed a pastie.   

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone.  Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills. There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Jacob had passed on platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful. “Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?” When they shook their heads, he wailed, “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!” Jacob hated that sound. Dudley always makes it when he doesn’t get what he wants.  “He’ll turn up,” said Harry.  “Yes,” said the boy miserably.  “Well, if you see him...” He left. “Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” said Ron  “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can’t talk.” The rat was still snoozing on Ron’s lap. Mouse had climbed his way back into Jacob’s pocket.  “He might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference,” said Ron in disgust.  “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look...” He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end. “Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway” He had just raised his ‘wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes. Jacob glared at them.   

 “Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front teeth. Jacob did not like her voice.  “i’m afraid we haven’t seen it” said Ron, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand. “Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.” She sat down, between Jacob and Aurora. Ron looked taken aback. Jacob didn’t like that this girl didn’t ask to sit down first.  “Er  —  all right.” Ron said, clearing his throat. “Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.” He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. “Are you sure that’s a real spell?”  said the girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard — I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough  —  I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?”  She said all this very fast.  

 “Told you I was right for reading the books, Harry. I’m Jacob Potter. It’s nice to meet you and of course you can sit there. It’s like you forced you way in” Jacob said with a kind voice. “I’m Aurora Tonks.” Aurora said, smiling.  “I’m Ron Weasley,” Ron muttered. “Harry Potter, Jacob’s twin” said Harry. And here we go again.  “Are you really?“  said Hermione.  “I know all about you, of course  —  I got a few extra books. For background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. They have only mentioned you once though, Jacob. I kind of thought you were made up” Jacob wasn’t surprised. “Am I?“  said Harry, feeling dazed. “Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” said Hermione. “Do either of you know what house you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best;  I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad.... Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You four had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”  And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.  

“she talks to much” Jacob muttered just to earn a glare from Aurora. “that’s not nice” She said. “sorry I guess” he replied.  “Whatever house I’m in, I hope she’s not in it, Stupid spell  —  George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud.” said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk.  “What house are your family in?” asked Harry.  “Gryffindor, Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin.” said Ron. “hey my mum was in Slytherin. My dad and Tonks were in Hufflepuff but my mum is a Slytherin. Being in Slytherin isn’t that bad.” Aurora said, defending her mum.  “That’s the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?” Harry asked.  “Yeah,” said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.  “You know, I think the ends of Scabbers’ whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Harry, trying to take Ron’s mind off houses.  “So what do your older sibling  do now that they’ve left, anyway?” Jacob asked, bored.  “Dora is training to be an auror. That’s what we call our police” Aurora explained. “Charlie’s in Romania studying dragons, and Bill’s in Africa doing something for Gringotts,” said Ron.  “Did you hear about Gringotts? It’s been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don’t suppose you get that with the Muggles  —  someone tried to rob a high security vault.” Harry stared. Jacob froze. That wasn’t meant to happen.  

 “Really? What happened to them?”  

 “Nothing, that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught.  My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don’t think they took anything, that’s what’s odd.   ‘Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”  

 “Anyway, What’s your Quidditch teams?”    

Well that was a willwind change.  “Er  —  we don’t know any,” Jacob confessed. “What!”  Ron looked dumbfounded. “Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world -  — “ And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he’d been to with his brothers and the broomstick he’d like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry and Jacob through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn’t Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time.  

 Three boys entered, and Jacob recognized the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. “Hello Cousin, I see you are still associating with the wrong sort” He said to Aurora before turning to harry. He was looking at Harry with a lot more interest than he’d shown back in Diagon Alley. “Is it true? They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”  Jacob was really getting sick of this. “Yes,” said Harry. Jacob looked at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards. “Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Jacob was looking.  “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigget. Draco Malfoy looked at him. “Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are.  My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” He then turned to Jacob I would say you were one of them but .... I heard you say Potter was your twin and you don’t have the horrible Weasley completion. You must be Jacob. You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potters. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” He held his hand out to shake. Jacob moved to shake his hand but Harry stopped him. “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” harry said coolly.  Draco Malfoy didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. Jacob sighed, this isn’t going to go well.   

 “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you. It has already ruined my cousin here”  Both Harry and Ron stood up. “Say that again,” Ron said, his face as red as his hair. “Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?”  Malfoy sneered. “Unless you get out now,” said Harry, more bravely than he felt, because Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron. “But we don’t feet like leaving, do we, boys?  We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”  Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron  —  Ron leapt forward, but before he’d so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.  Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle’s knuckle  —  Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbets finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once.   

Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or they had seen Mouse or perhaps they’d heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in. “What has been going on? “  she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail. “I think he’s been knocked out, No  —  I don’t believe it  —  he’s gone back to sleep  —  ” Ron said to Harry. And so he had. “You’ve met my cousin  before?”  aurora asked. Jacob and Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.  “Aurora told me about that side of the family. They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched.  My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side. Can we help you with something?” he explained before he turned to Hermione. “You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you?  You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!” Hermione said  “Scabbers has been fighting, not us, Would you mind leaving while we change?” said Ron, scowling at her.  “All right  —  I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Hermione in a sniffy voice.  “And you’ve got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?”  

Ron glared at her as she left, with Aurora who went to get change. Jacob peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky.  The train did seem to be slowing down. He, Harry and Ron took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Ron’s were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.  

“ We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”  

 The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. The three made their way outside, where they were reunited with Aurora.  A lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a familiar voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Harry?” Hagrid’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. “C’mon, follow me  —  any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!” Slipping and stumbling, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path.  It was so dark on either side of them that Jacob thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice. “Ye’ all get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”   

There was a loud “Oooooh!”   

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.  “No more’n four to a boat!“  Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, Jacob and Aurora got a boat together.   “Everyone in?”  shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. “Right then  —  FORWARD!” And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass.  

“I wonder what’s in there”   

“Be careful or you’ll fall in, Harry”   

 Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood. “Heads down!”  yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.  “Oy, you there! Is this your toad?”  said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.  “Trevor!”  cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands.  Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid’s lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.  “Everyone here?  You there, still got yer toad?”  Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.  

The door to the entrance hall swung open and a tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face. “The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said the man. The woman, McGonagall, nodded “Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.” She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big, Jacob hated it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floor. The group followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.  

“Welcome to Hogwarts, the start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting. I shall return when we are ready for you, please wait quietly.”  

Jacob rolled his eyes at those around him who were making sure their uniform was perfect as McGonagall left the chamber. It should already be perfect. First impressions matter. Jacob looked at his brother, Ron and Aurora. They seemed to be talking about houses and how they didn’t want to Slytherin. Jacob didn’t join in. He didn’t understand how you could hate on a fellow student because they are in another house. We are just first years in a new school.   

AHHHH  

Several people around Jacob suddenly screamed. Jacob looked around and noticed that about twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing.  

“Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-”  

“My dear Friar, haven’t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he’s not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?”  

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years. “New students! About to be Sorted, I suppose?” A ghost who had been called Friar asked. A few people nodded mutely. “Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!” said the Friar. “My old house, you know.”  

“Move along now,” said a sharp voice. “The Sorting Ceremony’s about to start.” McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall “Now, form a line,” Professor McGonagall told the first years, “and follow me.” The four quickly got in line with the other first years. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in mid-air over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they same to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. “It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History.” Hermione whispered. Jacob rolled his eye’s at her. As everyone arrived at the front of the gall, McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool, causing everyone to look forward. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard’s hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat begafour-legged.   

“Oh, you may not think I‘m pretty,  

But don’t judge on what you see,  

I’ll eat myself if you can find  

A smarter hat than me  

You can keep your bowlers black,  

Your top hats sleek and tall,  

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  

And I can cap them all.  

There’s nothing hidden in your head  

The Sorting Hat can’t see,  

So, try me on and I will tell you  

Where you ought to be.  

You might belong in Gryffindor,  

Where dwell the brave at heart,  

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  

Set Gryffindors apart;  

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  

Where they are just and loyal,  

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  

And unafraid of toil;  

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  

If you’ve a ready mind,  

Where those of wit and learning,  

Will always find their kind;  

Or perhaps in Slytherin  

You’ll make your real friends  

Those cunning folk use any means  

To achieve their ends  

So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  

And don’t get in a flap!  

You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  

For I’m a Thinking Cap!”  

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. “Abbott, Hannah!”  

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment’s pause –  

“HUFFLEPUFF!”  

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table.  

“Bones, Susan!”  

A girl with ginger hair quickly went and sat down.  

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.  

“Boot, Terry!”  

.  

.  

.  

.  

“RAVENCLAW!” 

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them. “Brocklehurst, Mandy” went to Ravenclaw too, but “Brown, Lavender” became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers. “Bulstrode, Millicent” then became a Slytherin.  

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”  

.  

.  

.  

.  

“HUFFLEPUFF!” 

Sometimes, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. “Finnigan, Seamus,” sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.  

“Granger, Hermione!”  

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.   

“GRYFFINDOR!”  

When Neville Longbottom was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR,” Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to “MacDougal, Morag.” Who got sorted into Ravenclaw.  

“Malfoy, Draco”  

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called. The hat had barely touched his head when it screamed,

“SLYTHERIN!”

Malfoy went to join his friends, looking pleased with himself. There weren’t many people left now. “Moon” …, “Nott” …, “Parkinson” …, then a pair of twin girls, “Patil” and “Patil” …, then “Perks, Sally-Anne”. Then two names were yelled out two names that sent whispers through the hall.  

“Potter, Harry!”  

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall. Jacob ignored them though.  

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

 Harry took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table, sitting next to Hermione.   

“Potter, Jacob”   

The hall went Deathly silent. No whispers. No cheers. Nothing. Jacob didn’t care though. He just walked to the stool and sat down. It wasn’t long before the hat was screaming out a house that silenced the hall even more, if that was even possible.   

SLYTHERIN!  

Jacob looked over to his brother and saw pain in his eyes. Jacob didn’t show it but he knew their relationship had started cracking. Jacob got up and walked over to the Slytherin table and sat across from Malfoy. “I told you you’ll soon learn the better people to associate with” Malfoy whispered before turning back into the sorting.  And now there were only five people left to be sorted. “Thomas, Dean,” joined Harry at the Gryffindor table.  

“Tonks, Aurora”   

 Aurora smiled and walked up to the stool. She sat on the stool and the hat was place on her head. It seemed to take a while before the hat finally shouted   

GRYFFINDOR!  

Aurora practically skipped over to her friends at the GRYFFINDOR table after giving the hat back. “Turpin, Lisa,” became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron Weasley’s turn.  

“GRYFFINDOR!” 

 Ron quickly goes over to the Gryffindor table and collapsed into the chair next to Harry as “Zabini, Blaise,” was made a Slytherin. McGonagall then rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. An old man with a long white beard stood up from the teacher’s table. Eric understood from his godfather that this man was Albus Dumbledore. The man was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.   

“Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”   

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. With that food appeared. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling as clean as before. A moment later the deserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding. Jacob ate some rice pudding. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.  

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death. And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!”  

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. “Everyone pick your favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!” Students around Jacob suddenly started singing. Well, if you can call what they did singing. Jacob refused to join in.   

“ Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  

Teach us something please,  

Whether we be old and bald  

Or young with scabby knees,  

Our heads could do with filling  

With some interesting stuff,  

For now, they’re bare and full of air,  

Dead flied and bits of fluff,  

So, teach us things worth knowing.  

Bring back what we’ve forgot,  

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,  

And learn until our brains all rot.”  

Everybody finished the song at different times. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. “Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”. Jacob sighs and stood up to follow the Slytherin prefect. He turned to say bye to his twin, but Harry was already going out of the door. He sighed and followed the prefect. The prefect led Jacob and the rest of the first years down into the dungeon. “Why on earth are we down in this glumly dungeon? I’d rather be in the cupboard than down here” Jacob mumbled to himself as they all stopped in front of a wall. “Behind this wall, is our common room. No one but Slytherin's are allowed in so don’t share the password. Speaking of the password, this week's password is Salve Domum. It will change every Monday. The new password will be on the common room bored. Anyway, Salve Domum” The prefect announces before saying the last thing to the wall. Suddenly a massive arched doorway appeared in the wall. Jacob smiled in shock before following everyone into the common room. The common room was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs. This dungeon extended partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge. The common room had lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; skulls; and dark wood cupboards. One of the wooden tables had a Wizard's Chess set on it. The room was decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins It had quite a grand atmosphere, but also quite a cold one. Jacob loved it. It was very cozy. “Mhm” A prefect called, getting all the first year's attention.   

“Congratulations! I'm Prefect Gemma Farley, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Slytherin house, the house of the Snake. Now, there are a few things you should know about Slytherin – and a few you should forget. I am sure you have heard about the Slytherin reputation. We are seen as dark wizards and witches. We are seen as evil people who are up to no good. We are seen as racists. So, people treat us as such even if we aren’t what they think. This treatment can put you down, affect your health but you can never let them see this. If they see that they are getting to you, they’ll get worse. You need to keep an emotional mask on whenever you are out of the common room. You can’t let people see your emotions or the true you as that will get you in more trouble. You may want to fight back the Gryffindor who has been hexing you but if you get caught, you’ll be the one in trouble not the Gryffindor so be careful. I know this is tough to hear, but you are a Slytherin now and this will be your next seven years. You need to remember this for your own protection and for the protection of your house. The other houses will only hurt you. Sure, you may have made friends on the train or have siblings that have ended up in other houses that have promised to never hurt you or treat you different because of your house, but they will. It may take years or even just a couple of months, but eventually they’ll start hatting you and treating you like a no-good evil person like everyone else does. So, you need to keep an eye on each other and protect each other because no one else will.  In classes, you need to behave and try your best because all the professor, but our head of house, will not hesitate to take points from us because they believe the same as the other houses. You also have to try extra hard to get even one point from those professors. Our head of house, Professor Severus Snape, will always try to keep our points up, he tries not to let us lose. However, like a true Slytherin, he keeps an emotional mask on. So, unless there's no way another house member will appear, he will never show his emotions or how much he cares for you. But if you are truly alone with him, he’s the best help you can have. He'll be like a father figure, one that doesn’t hurt you of course. Yes, I know most of Slytherin’s are Slytherin’s because we were abused and learned to survive, that was me. Professor Snape helped me survive and at the end of last year, he helped me buy my own place. You can trust him.    

And yes, we have traditionally tended to take students who come from long lines of witches and wizards, but nowadays you'll find plenty of people in Slytherin house who have at least one Muggle parent. But here’s a little-known fact that the other three houses don't bring up much: Merlin was a Slytherin. Yes, Merlin himself, the most famous wizard in history! He learned all he knew in this very house!  Do you want to follow in the footsteps of Merlin? Or would you rather sit at the old desk of that illustrious ex-Hufflepuff, Eglantine Puffett, inventor of the Self-Soaping Dishcloth? I didn't think so.  

Anyway, a few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him, he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don’t ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it. As I explained outside, our password to the common room changes every monday, so keep an eye on the noticeboard and never let anyone else know it and never bring anyone from another house into our common room. No outsider has entered it for more than seven centuries.  

Well, I think that's all for now. The girl dorms are to the left; the boy dorms are to the right and the non-binary doors are through that door behind me. You will be roomed in pairs. Your name and your roommate’s name will be on the door. Goodluck for your seven years at Hogwarts and goodnight”  

Jacob sighed and walked down the right-hand corridor to the boys' dorms. He looked at the names on the doors and find his name at the very last door but the name that was under his was a shock. In bright silver letters the words “Draco lucius Malfoy” was written under “Jacob Fleamont Potter”. This was going to be a fun seven years. Jacob took a deep breath before pushing the door open and walking into the room. Malfoy had already picked the bed by the window and was unpacking. “Hello, Malfoy” Jacob said before going over to his bed. The dorm room was beautiful. The walls and floors were made of stone. The dorm had a green carpet with the house crest in the centre and two spherical lamps on either side. but the bed area was the best part. The four-poster beds were covered in green eiderdowns with green curtains, a wooden nightstand next to it and their school trunks at the foot of their beds. A wooden board was situated on either side of the two beds. A wooden bookcase was located on the other side of the beds with books on top of it.  The four-poster beds were covered in the house colours with the house crest on them. The four poster beds had two shelves at the back of the bed, an owl perch on one side, a small carpet next to the bed and a wooden nightstand at the end of the bed on one side. There was a wooden table in the centre of the dormitory with a stack of books with an hourglass on top of them. “Hello Potter.” Replied Malfoy before he got changed. Jacob rolled his eyes but went to the bathroom and got changed. The two didn’t say anything else for the rest of the night.   

“I am not Harry Potter. I am Jacob. He’s my stupid twin”  

“You’re who?”  

“Oh, just forget it!”  

The first couple of days of Hogwarts were horrible for Jacob. Everyone kept mistaking him for Harry and kept trying to talk to him, fan over him and get an autograph from him as Harry and then when he said he was Jacob, he had to deal with their confusion and hate of him being a Slytherin. It was horrible. Especially when he was with Harry, Ron, Auora and Hermione. Though hanging out with them, earned him nasty looks from Malfoy and the Slytherin’s though. So, Jacob was getting hatred from every house as well as a lot of the staff and ghosts. Even the Hogwarts itself seemed to hate him. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren’t really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Jacob was sure the coats of armour could walk.  

“Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts, anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”  

But the first Friday of the school year brought Jacob joy because he got to prove he belonged at Hogwarts. The lesson they had on Friday morning was the first potions lesson, the lesson Jacob had been looking for. Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons, near the Slytherin dorms. Jacob sat at the back of the hall with Harry and gang but aa soon as he sat down, Harry passed him a letter and that made him sigh. He really didn’t want this letter.   

Dear Harry, 

I know you get Friday afternoons off so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? Bring your brother and any friends you’ve made. 

I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig. 

Hagrid 

Snape, like all the teachers, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Professor  Flitwick, he paused at Harry’s and Jacob’s names.   

“Ah, yes, Harry Potter. Our new — celebrity. And his forgotten twin, Jacob Potter”  

Draco Malfoy and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid’s, but they had none of Hagrid’s warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. It was hard to remember this was just a mask.   

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death — if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”  

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn’t a dunderhead. Aurora was still smiling. Jacob rolled his eye’s at them before listening to Snape.   

“Harry Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”  

Harry glanced at Ron, who looked as stumped as he was; Hermione’s hand had shot into the air. Jacob knew the answer to this. If only Snape asked him. “I don’t know, sir,” said Harry. Snape’s lips curled into a sneer.  

“Tut, tut — fame clearly isn’t everything. Let’s try again. Harry Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”  

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Harry didn’t have the faintest idea what a bezoar was.  Jacob looked at him, like he was dumb as Harry said “I don’t know, sir.”  

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”  

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling. “I don’t know,” said Harry quietly. “I think Hermione does, though, why don’t you try her?” A few people laughed; Snape, however, was not pleased.  

“Sit down, Granger. Let’s see if the other Potter is as stupid as our celebrity. Jacob Potter, can you answer the questions?”   

Jacob smiled and nods. “Yes Professor. Asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite.” He said, calmly. Everyone was shocked. “Well? Why aren’t you all copying that down?” Snape finally said. There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, “And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Harry Potter.”  

Things didn’t improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like, and Jacob, who had nothing to criticise. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy and Jacob had stewed their horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus’s cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people’s shoes.   

Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. “Idiot boy!” snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?” Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose. “Take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville. “You — Harry Potter — why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That’s another point you’ve lost for Gryffindor.” Jacob just rolled his eyes and finished his potion.   

“Where are going, Jacob? We have Hagrid to meet”   

“I'm not going to meet him. I told you I don’t trust him, Harry”   

“You really are a Slytherin”   

“And what does that mean, Weasley?”   

After the potion's incident, classes continued as normal, but Jacob started to learn that the Slytherin prefect was correct when it came to the other house’s hating Slytherin. Every lesson, Jacob and the rest of his class had to deal with the prejudice views of nearly everyone at Hogwarts. Every lesson, arguments broke out. Nearly every lesson, Slytherin’s lost points for things that weren’t their fault. It was a rare occasion that a Slytherin got any points outside of potions. Even when hanging out with Harry and his friends, Jacob had to deal with the prejudices of being a Slytherin. Harry and Ron tried to hide their feelings and thoughts when around Jacob, but they are horrible liars. Jacob could always tell what they were thinking, especially when Ron kept messing up and letting certain things slip out of his mouth. But it wasn’t just the Gryffindor’s causing most of the trouble, the Slytherin’s, with their masks, were making things so much worse for themselves. But Draco Malfoy was the worst of it. Take what he did in the first flying lesson of the year (with the Gryffindor’s). While Madam Hoch was taking Neville to the hospital wing, Malfoy had stolen his remember ball and flew up high on his broom (when they were all meant to stay on the ground). Whilst up there, he got in an argument with Harry causing Harry to fly up after him. Malfoy then told him to catch before throwing the ball and Harry was dumb enough to go after him, causing them both to get caught. However, Unlike Malfoy who ended up in detention, Harry wasn’t punished at all. Instead, he was invited to join the quidditch team, despite only being a 1st year. But that just wound Malfoy up more. So, while heading to lunch, the gang were stopped by Malfoy and his group.   

“Going to your last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?” The blond sneered. “You’re a lot braver now that you’re back on the ground and you’ve got your little friends with you,” said Harry coolly. “I’d take you on anytime on my own, Tonight, if you want. Wizard’s duel. Wands only — no contact. What’s the matter? Never heard of a wizard’s duel before, I suppose?” Said Malfoy. Jacob rolled eyes. He was going end up hearing about the duel for months.  “Of course he has,” said Ron, wheeling around. “I’m his second, who’s yours?” Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up, before looking at Jacob and smirking.  “Jacob Potter, Midnight all right? We’ll meet you in the trophy room; that’s always unlocked.” he said. “Hey that’s not right! Jacob’s harry’s twin” Ron argued but Malfoy just smirked more. “But Jacob is a Slytherin and my dorm mate, so rules say he can be my second. Come along, Jacob we need to go train for tonight” With that Draco smirked and left with Crabble and Goyle. Jacob rolled his eyes, waved bye to Harry and followed after them.  

 In the end, Jacob and Malfoy never turned up to the Duel because Malfoy only challenge Harry to a duel to wind him up and get him caught by filch. Harry informs Jacob the next day everything that happened, while also yelling at him for not warning him that it was just a prank. Apparently, they had tried to sneak away from filch but Peeves had spotted them and informed the caretaker where they were. Harry, Ron, Aurora and Hermione ended up running away, into the third-floor corridor and ended hiding in a locked from. However, in that room, they found a giant three-headed dog that was guarding a trap door.   

“It must be guarding the thing Hagrid got from Gringotts's vault”  

“I told you we couldn’t trust him, Harry”  

“He’s hiding it for Dumbledor”  

“We don’t know that. Anyway, do you know what’s in the package anyway?”  

As the weeks continued, the relations between Slytherin and the rest of the school continued to be stretched. But Jacob distracted himself by trying to work out what was so important that a massive monster had to guard it and why Hagrid though it was safe to have a monster in a school full of children. Though he had been spending less time with Harry and the gang because Harry had been spending all his evening’s practicing for his first quidditch match and Jacob didn’t like being around the other Gryffindor's without Harry around because they’d end up in a fight. However, before anyone knew it, Jacob had been at Hogwarts for two months and felt more at home than he ever did with the Dursley’s.   

On Halloween morning, All the students woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they’d seen him make Neville’s toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Jacob was Partner'd with Malfoy. Harry’s partner was Seamus Finnigan (which was a relief, because Neville had been trying to catch his eye). Aurora was partnered with Lavender Brown. Ron, however, was to be working with Hermione Granger. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this.   

“Now, don’t forget that nice wrist movement we’ve been practicing! Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too — never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said ‘s’ instead of ‘f’ and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest.”  

It was very difficult. Jacob and Malfoy kept trying and trying but they could get it right, neither could Harry, Seamus, Lavender or Aurora. Seamus got so impatient that he prodded it with his wand and set fire to it — Harry had to put it out with his hat. Ron, at the next table, wasn’t having much more luck. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. “You’re saying it wrong, t’s Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the ‘gar’ nice and long.” Jacob heard Hermione snap. “You do it, then, if you’re so clever,” Ron snarled. Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, “Wingardium Leviosa!” Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads. “Oh, well done!” cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. “Everyone see here, Miss Granger’s done it!”  

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of the class. “It’s no wonder no one can stand her,” he said to Harry and Auroa (and Jacob who was following them to avoid Malfoy) pushed their way into the crowded corridor, “she’s a nightmare, honestly.” Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face — and was startled to see that she was in tears. “I think she heard you.” Harry commented.  “So? She must’ve noticed she’s got no friends.” said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. “You are a big meanie” Aurora said, snapping, before running after Hermione. “You really know how to put your foot in it, don’t you Weasley? I’m off. I’d rather deal with Malfoy than your winning” With that Jacob stormed off to.   

Hermione and Aurora didn’t turn up for the next class and wasn’t seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Jacob overheard Parvati Patil telling her friend Lavender that Hermione was crying in the girls’ bathroom and wanted to be left alone but Aurora wouldn’t leave her alone. Jacob didn’t think anything of it and entered the hall that was decorated for the Halloween feast. A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet. Jacob was pilling mash potatoo on his plate when Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Dumbledore’s chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, “Troll — in the dungeons — thought you ought to know.” He then sank to the floor in a dead faint. There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore’s wand to bring silence.  

“Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!”  

“But our common room is in the dungeon” Jacob muttered as he got up and followed his prefect out of the hall. They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Jacob suddenly saw Harry and Ron running in a different direction to the rest of their house. “What are they up to?” Jacob said, rolling his eyes before running after them. He catches up to them as they reach the corridor leading to the girl’s bathroom. Jacob was just about to ask them what they were doing, when they heard quick footsteps behind them. “Percy!” hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. Peering around it, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared from view. “What’s he doing? Why isn’t he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?” Harry whispered. “Search me but why aren’t you with the Slytherin’s, Jacob?”  Jacob rolled his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t fancy being eaten by the troll that is outside my common room. Think before you speak, idiot.” Jacob said with a tone. “Whatever, we need to hurry” Harry said, walking off before Jacob could question what they were doing. Jacob and Ron quickly followed after him.    

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape’s fading footsteps. “He’s heading for the third floor,” Harry said, but Ron held up his hand. “Can you smell something?” Jacob raised an eyebrow before sniffing, a foul stench reached his nostrils, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. And then they heard it — a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed — at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight. It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite grey, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long. The troll stopped next to a doorway and peered inside. It waggled its long ears, making up its tiny mind, then slouched slowly into the room. “The keys in the lock, we could lock it in.” Harry muttered. “Good idea,” said Ron nervously. Jacob kept his thoughts to himself and let the Gryffindor’s do their stupid idea. They edged toward the open door, mouths dry, praying the troll wasn’t about to come out of it. With one great leap, Harry managed to grab the key, slam the door, and lock it. “Yes!”  

Flushed with their victory, they started to run back up the passage, but as they reached the corner they heard something that made their hearts stop — a high, petrified scream — and it was coming from the chamber they’d just chained up. “Isn’t Granger and Tonks in the girl’s bathroom in that corridor?” Jacob said, rolling his eyes at them as panic filled their eyes. “Alohomora” Jacob said pointing to the door, quickly unlocking it. The three boys quickly rush towards to the girl’s bathroom. Hermione Granger and Auora Tonks were shrinking against the wall opposite, looking as if they were about to faint. The troll was advancing on them, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.  

“Confuse it!” Harry said desperately to Ron and Jacob, and, seizing a tap, he threw it as hard as he could against the wall. The troll stopped a few feet from the girls. It lumbered around, blinking stupidly, to see what had made the noise. Its mean little eyes saw Harry. It hesitated, then made for him instead, lifting its club as it went. “Oy, pea-brain!” yelled Ron from the other side of the chamber, and he threw a metal pipe at it. The troll didn’t even seem to notice the pipe hitting its shoulder, but it heard the yell and paused again, turning its ugly snout toward Ron instead, giving Harry time to run around it. Jacob just watched from the doorway, watching the dumb Gryffindor’s be impulsive. He only stayed to make sure Harry didn’t die. If Harry died, he’d probably be blamed as the Slytherin there and then he’d have to deal with Ron and Aurora on her own. “Come on, run, run!” Harry yelled at Hermione and Aurora, trying to pull them towards the door, but Hermione couldn’t move, she was still flat against the wall, her mouth open with terror. The shouting and the echoes seemed to be driving the troll berserk. It roared again and started toward Ron, who was nearest and had no way to escape. Harry then did something that was both very brave and very stupid: He took a great running jump and managed to fasten his arms around the troll’s neck from behind. The troll couldn’t feel Harry hanging there, but even a troll will notice if you stick a long bit of wood up its nose, and Harry’s wand had still been in his hand when he’d jumped — it had gone straight up one of the troll’s nostrils.   

“You are a bloody idiot, Harry!”  

Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life; any second, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club.  Auora was now standing next to Jacob and Hermione had sunk to the floor in fright; Ron pulled out his own wand. Jacob lifted his wand to attack the troll, but Ron bet him to it by yelling “Wingardium Leviosa!” The club flew suddenly out of the troll’s hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over — and dropped, with a sickening crack, onto its owner’s head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble. Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.  

“I am so glad I’m not a Gryffindor” Jacob mumbled, earning a nasty look from Ron, as he knelt next to the troll to get its pulse. “Is it — dead?” Hermione asked. “Fortunately, no, he’s just been knocked out. But when he wakes up, he’s going to have a right headache. Why couldn’t you all have just gone back to the common room and let the teacher’s deal with this?” Jacob replied rolling his eyes.  “You’re here to, Snake” Ron snapped. “Well, the troll was meant to be in the dungeon and if you haven’t realised, my common room is in the dungeon!” Jacob snapped back. “Guys don’t fight. We are safe” Aurora said, trying to calm everyone down. “Yeah, now but we could have been killed” Jacob said as he stood up and wiped the dust off his legs.  Harry bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll’s nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue. “Urgh — troll boogers.” he complained as he wiped it on the troll’s trousers.  

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the five of them look up. They hadn’t realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll’s roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had come bursting into the room, closely followed by Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat quickly down on a toilet, clutching his heart. Snape bent over the troll. Professor McGonagall was looking at Ron. Jacob and Harry. Jacob had never seen her look so angry. Her lips were white. “What on earth were you thinking of?” said Professor McGonagall, with cold fury in her voice “You’re lucky you weren’t killed. Why aren’t you in your dormitory?”  Snape gave Harry and Jacob a swift, piercing look. Harry looked at the floor. Jacob sighed, he knew this was going to earn him a Snape rant he had heard a 4 th year talk about. Then a small voice came out of the shadows.  

“Please, Professor McGonagall — they were looking for me and Aurora.”  

“Miss Granger!”  

“We went looking for the troll because I — I thought I could deal with it on my own — you know, because I’ve read all about them. If they hadn’t found us, we’d be dead now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. Jacob made sure they didn’t kill him. They didn’t have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish us off when they arrived.”  

“Well — in that case … Miss Granger, Miss Tonks, you foolish girls, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own? Miss Granger, Miss Tonks, five points each will be taken from Gryffindor for this, I’m very disappointed in you. If you’re not hurt at all, you’d better get off to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their Houses.”  

Hermione and Auora left. Professor McGonagall turned to Harry, Jacob and Ron.  

“Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points, Jacob, you win three Slytherin points for making sure these two weren’t murderous. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go.” She finished. “Jacob, meet me in my office later.” Snape quickly said. Jacob nodded and hurried out of the chamber.   

“Jacob, you need to realise you are not a Gryffindor, you don’t have the privileges they have. You need to be smart and not do the dangerous things they do. You can’t break the rules like they do. You can’t be caught, Jacob. You need to understand this. Think about the points you all received yesterday. They received 5 points when you only got 3. it’s not fair but it’s life.”  

“Well, it shouldn’t be like this. Everyone should have the same rules and consequences.”  

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy grey and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots. The Quidditch season had begun, and the first match of the season was Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Which left Jacob questioning one thing as he climbed onto the Slytherin benches to watch the match, does he cheer for his house or his twin? Jacob had been avoiding Harry and the gang since his talk with Snape; still made about the different treatment he got from the two Gryffindor's. Jacob was pulled out of his head as cheers and boo’s filled the air. The two quidditch teams were now on the pitch, brooms in hand.   

Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand. “Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you,” she said, once they were all gathered around her. “Mount your brooms, please.” Everyone got on their brooms. Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.  

“And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor — what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too —”  

“JORDAN!”  

“Sorry, Professor and she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve — back to Johnson and — no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes — Flint flying like an eagle up there — he’s going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle — that’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and — OUCH — that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger — Quaffle taken by the Slytherins — that’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger — sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which — nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes — she’s really flying — dodges a speeding Bludger — the goal posts are ahead — come on, now, Angelina — Keeper Bletchley dives — misses — GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”  

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.  

“Slytherin in possession, Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the — wait a moment — was that the Snitch?”  

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear. In a great rush of excitement, Harry dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too. Neck and neck they hurtled toward the Snitch — all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch. Harry was faster than Higgs — he could see the little round ball, wings fluttering, darting up ahead — he put on an extra spurt of speed — WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below — Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry’s broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life. “Foul!” screamed the Gryffindors. Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.  

“So — after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating —”  

“Jordan!”   

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul —”  

“Jordan, I’m warning you —”  

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession.”  

It was as Harry dodged another Bludger, which went spinning dangerously past his head, that it happened. His broom gave a sudden, frightening lurch. For a split second, Jacob thought harry was going to fall.  It happened again. It was as though the broom was trying to buck him off. But Nimbus Two Thousands did not suddenly decide to buck their riders off.  Jacob suddenly realized that his broom was completely out of Harry’s control. Lee was still commentating.  

“Slytherin in possession — Flint with the Quaffle — passes Spinnet — passes Bell — hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose — only joking, Professor — Slytherins score — oh no …”  

The Slytherins were cheering. Jacob seemed to be the only one who had noticed until Hagrid had pointed it out. Harry’s broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry’s broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand. Jacob didn’t know what to feel or how to stop his brother from falling to his death. He just had to watch in fear. Harry’s broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good — every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.  

“Is snape on fire? Wait Harry’s broom has stopped".

Up in the air, Harry was suddenly able to clamber back on to his broom. Harry was speeding toward the ground when the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick — he hit the field on all fours — coughed — and something gold fell into his hand. “I’ve got the Snitch!” he shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended in complete confusion. “He didn’t catch it, he nearly swallowed it,” Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference — Harry hadn’t broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results — Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid’s hut, with Ron, Aurora and Hermione (And Jacob who just wanted to check on his brother and leave).  

“It was Snape, Hermione, Aurora and I saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn’t take his eyes off you.” Ron was explaining, “Rubbish,” said Hagrid, who hadn’t heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. “Why would Snape do something like that?” Jacob then added. Harry, Aurora, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another.  “I found out something about him, He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.” Harry finally said. Hagrid dropped the teapot. “How do you know about Fluffy?” he said. “Fluffy?” Aurora side, raising an eye brow.  “Yeah — he’s mine — bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year — I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the —” Hagrid started.  “Yes?” said Harry eagerly. “Now, don’t ask me anymore, That’s top secret, that is.” said Hagrid gruffly.  “But Snape’s trying to steal it.” Harry argured.  “Rubbish, Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothin’ of the sort.” said Hagrid again.  “So why did he just try and kill Harry? I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!” cried Hermione. The afternoon’s events certainly seemed to have changed her mind about Snape. “I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong! I don’ know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh — yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel —” said Hagrid hotly.  “Aha! so there’s someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?” said Harry.   

“I shouldn’t have said that”  

After Hagrid revealed the name of Nicolas Flamel, Jacob, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Auora spent all their free time trying to find out who the guy was and why something of his would be hidden behind a three headed dog. Jacob hated spending every second of his time with Harry’s friends, but something was nagging him to find out what was hidden so he put him. But despite searching for a fortnight, they still hadn't’ found anything and the teens were getting angst with each other. And the fact Christmas was coming, and no one could wait for the holidays to start.  One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. While the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. The dungeons were the worst of it though. The comoon room and the potions were freezing but at least in the potions classroom, they had the hot cauldrons to keep warm.   

“I do feel so sorry,” said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”  

“oh, shut up Malfoy”  

Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he’d realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family. Jacob just ended up being hit in the math of it.  It was true that Harry and Jacob weren’t going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. The twins had signed up as soon as their head of house put the list up the week before. Jacob was glad not to go to the Dursley house; he didn’t care if that meant freezing to death in the Slytherin common room. Though Ron and his brothers were staying as well, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Jacob hated that. Anyway, Hermione and Aurora were going home for Hogwarts so at least he’d be free from them.  

“You will keep looking while I’m away, won’t you? And send me an owl if you find anything.”  

“And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is, It’d be safe to ask them.”  

“Very safe, as they’re both dentists,”  

But Hermione’s request was forgotten as soon as the break began. Jacob also seemed to have been forgotten. Ron and Harry were having too much to remember Jacob and watch they were meant to be searching. So, Jacob, who had no one to hang out with, did what Hermione asked and spent all his time in the library searching about Nicolas Flamel. However, Christmas day arrived, and all hell broke out. Jacob had made something for Harry out of things he found left around Hogwarts, like the twins usually did for each other (they usually use things they find out around the town).  

 So, on Christmas morning, Jacob grabbed his present for Harry and made his way to the Gryffindor common room, where Harry had told him to meet. Harry had told him the Christmas day password as well, so he was easily able to get inside the common room. Jacob soon wished he hadn’t though. As soon as he entered the common room it because known that Harry had forgotten to create his present. Harry and Ron were wearing knitted jumpers with the first letter of their names written on them and they were opening presents from very large piles, having the time of their life. Jacob watched for a while, hoping they would notice hm, he even said Hi, but they never noticed him. The two boys just carried on chatting and opening presents. But when Harry opened up a present that Dumbledore said belonged to their father, an invisibility cloak. Harry got a present from their dad and tons of other people and Jacob got absolutely nothing. Jacob, filled with anger, threw the present he made at Harry, finally making himself get notice. “What the hell, Jacob? And when did you get here?” Ron snapped looking at him. “I’ve been here the whole time, despite you not noticing. Harry, we were meant to meet up and hand each other presents but it seems you forgot” Harry suddenly became very skittish and Jacob realised one thing. “You haven’t even made me a gift, have you? Well, I'll leave you fuckers alone then and go be alone in the snake’s den where I have been forgotten all holiday” Before anyone could say anything, Jacob stormed off.   

Jacob stormed all the way down to the dungeons and into the dorms. He slammed the door to his dorm open and ......  “What’s got you in a mood on this fine winter day” ........ Draco Malfoy was sat on Jacob’s bed. “What are you doing here, Malfoy? Didn't you go home? And why are you sat on my bed?” Jacob said, slamming the door shut behind him. “I forgot to give you your present so I came to drop it off. Here" Malfoy said, holding out a present. Jacob looked at him, confused. “Malfoy, I am not in a mood to deal with any tricks”. Malfoy just laughed slightly. “It’s no trick. It's for you. I’m sure it’s nothing like what your twin got you but it’s something. Also we are roommates so call me Draco” Malfoy explained. Jacob rolled his yes and began to open the present. “Harry didn’t get me anything so it’s already better, Mal-Draco. Wait is this a book of on the wizarding wars?” Draco nodded. “Yeah I saw that you kept trying to find information on all the wars and your families point in it. So, I bought you this. Did Potter really not get you anything? Not much of a friend, is he? Let alone a twin brother” Draco said staring at him. Jacob just shrugged and put the book on his desk. “You know what. I am going to write to mother and see if I could stay here for the rest of the holidays with you” Draco said, before walking off.   

And that’s exactly what happened. At first it was a little awkward but eventually the two became friends and started hanging out together, it made it easier to avoid Harry and Ron. Even when everyone returned back to Hogwarts, Draco and Jacob continued to hang out. Jacob even made friends with his gang. But Hermione and Aurora dragged him back into finding out about Nicolus Flamel, so he still had to hang out with Harry and that gang. But now more arguments and more sassy comments happened. Jacob made it known he still wasn’t happy with them. Though as soon as Harry went to quidditch training, Jacob left the group.  

After weeks and weeks of searching for information on Nicolus Flamel, they had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he’d read the name somewhere. But eventually, in mid-February, information was found. Though Jacob wasn’t there when it happened, no he wasn’t told until D.A.D.A the next morning.  

“So, it’s the philosopher's stone that the dog is hiding and that my head of house wants? Are you guy’s nuts? And are you sure this opinion isn’t because Snape is referring the next Gryffindor match”  

“No, we are correct. You are just sceptical because you hang out with Malfoy to much”  

“Draco is my roommate. I am allowed to hang out with him.”  

“Whatever Slytherin”  

But the quidditch match is what made the idea be more fixed in the Gryffindor’s mind and what forced Jacob to go along with it.   

Jacob of course sat with Draco for the match instead of with the Gryffindor's, he didn’t want to be around Harry’s friend longer than he had to. But then as the match started, Draco and the gang got up and walked off to the Gryffindor benches. Jacob watched from far away as a fight broke out between the Gryffindor's and Slytherins.  The match was boring though. It only lasted 5 minutes because Harry didn’t want to give snape time to take away points. It was after the match that caused the idea to be fixed in the Gryffindor’s mind and what forced Jacob to go along with it.  Harry disappeared for a while after the match but he returned, stressed out.   

“Harry, where have you been?” Hermione squeaked when Harry returned. “Harry, you left me with these nincompoops, so you better have a good excuse” Jacob said, glaring at him which earned a glare from Aurora. “We won! You won! We won! And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle singlehanded! He’s still out cold but Madam Pomfrey says he’ll be all right — talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone’s waiting for you in the common room, we’re having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens.” shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. Jacob gave Ron a look at the comment about Slytherin.  “Never mind that now,” said Harry breathlessly. “Let’s find an empty room, you wait ’til you hear this. …” He made sure Peeves wasn’t inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he’d seen and heard. “So, we were right, it is the philosopher's stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy — and he said something about Quirrell’s ‘hocus-pocus’ — I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through —” Jacob rolled his eyes at him.  “So, you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” said Hermione in alarm. “It’ll be gone by next Tuesday,” said Ron. “We’ll be able to stop him, right?” Aurora asked.   

In the weeks that followed Quirrell seemed to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn’t look as though he’d cracked yet. Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, Aurora and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside (And Jacob did it too but only when alone). Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrell these days he gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrell’s stutter.  Though Jacob and Harry always seemed to get a flash on pain in their scars when they accidently bumped into him or made eye contact.    

But that wasn’t the only thing on Jacob’s or Hermione’s mind. There was only 10 weeks left until exams and the two had a lot of studying they needed to do. Fortunately, the teachers seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Hermione and Jacob. They piled so much homework on them that the Easter holidays weren’t nearly as much fun as the Christmas ones. At least, unlike Harry, Ron and Aurora, Jacob didn’t have to deal with Hermione’s way of studding. He could study in his own way. The Slytherin common room was a good place to study, nearly everyone in there were terrified of their parents and of failing. Spending most of his time in the Slytherin common room meant Jacob didn’t get a firsthand experience of what was happening with the golden quad was up to, he had to hear from Draco and Draco loved complaining about Harry Potter.   

“They had a bloody dragon, and they were sneaking around at night with it. They got to the astronomy tower and had it collected by strangers. So, I told McGonagall about it, and I GET DENTENTION AS WELL AS LOSSING POINTS! This is not far.”  

“You were out of bed to, Draco”  

“To inform a teacher about them and they had a dragon! But no punish me as well”  

“Calm down, draco. It’s just a detention”  

“In the forbidden forest!”  

Jacob ended up hearing about the detention from both Draco and Harry because Draco complained about it when he got back from the dentention and because, the next day, Harry broke off their avoidance to tell him all the information he got from the detention. Harry tells Jacob all about the unicorn blood. Harry tells Jacob all about how someone has been drinking the unicorn blood. Harry tells Jacob all about Firenze the Centaur saving him from a shadowy figure. Harry tells Jacob about how drinking unicorn blood can save you from the brink of death but only gives you a half-life. Harry tells Jacob about how Firenze thinks it’s Voldemort drinking the blood. Harry tells Jacob about how Firenze told him that the figure is waiting for something more, an elixir of life. Harry explains how the figure must be after the philosopher's stone. Jacob is pained to agree with him.   

“I still don’t think it’s snape but I agree with you. Voldemort is waiting for someone to get the stone for him”  

“So, you will help us stop Sna- The person getting the stone?”  

“Yeah, I guess. Did you guys really have a dragon or was Draco causing more drama?”  

“We had a dragon”  

“cool”  

Finally, exam session came and if these were meant to be the easiest exams of the whole of Hogwarts, Jacob didn’t know how he was going to survive the rest of his Hogwarts years. Though it didn’t help that Harry thought Voldemort was going to burst through the door at any moment and he kept nagging Jacob about it. Yet the days crept by, and there could be no doubt that Fluffy was still alive and well behind the locked door. It was sweltering hot, especially in the large classroom where they did their written papers. They had been given special, new quills for the exams, which had been bewitched with an Anti-Cheating spell. They had practical exams as well. Professor Flitwick called them one by one into his class to see if they could make a pineapple tap-dance across a desk. Professor McGonagall watched them turn a mouse into a snuffbox — points were given for how pretty the snuffbox was but taken away if it had whiskers. Snape made them all nervous, breathing down their necks while they tried to remember how to make a Forgetfulness potion. Jacob tried the best he could in the exams, but he left shoulder (the shoulder with his secret scar on), the one he uses to write and make wand movement, had been hurting since Harry told him about everything that happened in the Forrest. Ron, Aurora and Hermione didn’t seem as worried about the Stone as Harry and Jacob. The idea of Voldemort certainly scared them, but he didn’t keep visiting them in dreams (like he did with the twins), and they were so busy with their studying they didn’t have much time to fret about what Snape or anyone else might be up to. Their very last exam was History of Magic. One hour of answering questions about batty old wizards who’d invented self-stirring cauldrons and they’d be free, free for a whole wonderful week until their exam results came out. When the ghost of Professor Binns told them to put down their quills and roll up their parchment, Jacob couldn’t help cheering with the rest.  

But after the exam, Harry and his gang disappeared for at least an hour. Jacob looked for them for ages but finally he spotted them running down the hall towards Dumbledore’s office. “What’s happening? Where have you been?” He questioned. “We’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” said Harry. “Hagrid told us that he told a stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort under that cloak — it must’ve been easy, once he’d got Hagrid drunk. I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Firenze might back us up if Bane doesn’t stop him. Where’s Dumbledore’s office?” They looked around, as if hoping to see a sign pointing them in the right direction. They had never been told where Dumbledore lived, nor did they know anyone who had been sent to see him. “We’ll just have to —” Harry began, but a voice suddenly rang across the hall.  

“What are you five doing inside?”  

It was Professor McGonagall, carrying a large pile of books. “We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” said Hermione, rather bravely. “See Professor Dumbledore?” Professor McGonagall repeated, as though this was a very fishy thing to want to do. “Why?” Jacob looked at the Gryffindors before rolling his eyes. “These four are being impulsive and want to talk to him about something” Jacob replied. “It’s sort of secret,” Harry said. “Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago; He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once.” she said coldly. “He’s gone?” said Harry frantically. “Now?”  

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Potter, he has many demands on his time —”  

“But this is important.”  

“Something you have to say is more important than the Ministry of Magic, Potter?”  

“Look, Professor — it’s about the philosopher's stone —”  

Whatever Professor McGonagall had expected, it wasn’t that. The books she was carrying tumbled out of her arms, but she didn’t pick them up.  

“How do you know — ?”   

“Professor, I think — I know — that Sn— that someone’s going to try and steal the Stone. I’ve got to talk to Professor Dumbledore.”  

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow, I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected.”  

“But Professor —”  

“Potter, I know what I’m talking about,” she said shortly. She bent down and gathered up the fallen books. “I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine.” But they didn’t. “It’s tonight, Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs, and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Ministry of Magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.” said Harry, once he was sure Professor McGonagall was out of earshot. “But what can we —” Hermione and Aurora gasped. Harry, Jacob and Ron wheeled round. Snape was standing there. “Good afternoon,” he said smoothly. They stared at him. “You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he said, with an odd, twisted smile. “We were —” Harry began, without any idea what he was going to say. “You want to be more careful,” said Snape. “Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it? Jacob, remember my warning” Harry flushed. They turned to go outside, but Snape called them back. “Be warned, Harry Potter — any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you.” He strode off in the direction of the staffroom.  

Out on the stone steps, Harry turned to the others. “Right, here’s what we’ve got to do, Two of us has got to keep an eye on Snape — wait outside the staffroom and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, Aurora, you’d better do that.” he whispered urgently. “Why us?” Aurora asked.  “It’s obvious, Hermione, You can pretend to be waiting for Professor Flitwick, you know.  ‘Oh Professor Flitwick, I’m so worried, I think I got question fourteen b wrong. …’ and Aurora, you wouldn’t want Hermione to be alone,” said Ron.  “Oh, shut up,” said Hermione, but Aurora and Hermione agreed to go and watch out for Snape. “And we’d better stay outside the third-floor corridor,” Harry told Ron and Jacob. “Come on.” But that part of the plan didn’t work. No sooner had they reached the door separating Fluffy from the rest of the school than Professor McGonagall turned up again and this time, she lost her temper. “I suppose you think you’re harder to get past than a pack of enchantments!” she stormed. “Enough of this nonsense! If I hear you’ve come anywhere near here again, I’ll take another fifty points from Gryffindor and 25 from Slytherin! Yes, Weasley, from my own House!” So, they headed to their own common rooms but at Dinner, Jacob received a note.   

“Meet us at the fluffy door tonight after curfew. We are getting the stone – Harry"  

So, after everyone in the Slytherin house had gone to bed, Jacob snuck out. He snuck all way to the door, surprisingly without getting caught.  Even more surprisingly, he was the first one to arrive. The others arrived 10 minutes later, under the invisiabilty cloak that they took off once they arrived at the door. “Why are you late?” He asked, kind of jokingly. “Nevile wouldn’t let us go. He didn’t want to lose more points” Ron complained. “It’s kind of sweet” Aurora continued. “And then we nearly got caught by peeves” Ron continued. Jacob rolled his eyes. “Let's just do this before Voldemort returns. The door’s been ajar ages” He mutters and everyone nods.  “What! Snape could already have the stone! We need to hurry” Harry said, in a panic, rushing in. “I have been trying to say” Jacob said following him, followed by the rest of them.   

As the door creaked, low, rumbling growls met their ears. All three of the dog’s noses sniffed madly in their direction, even though it couldn’t see them. “What’s that at its feet?” Hermione whispered. “I think it’s a harp. It's a type of musical instrument” Jacob whispered back in a sarcastic tone. Hermine glared at him.  “Snape must have left it there.” Ron said before Hermione could say anything.  “It must wake up the moment you stop playing,” said Harry. “Well, here goes …” He put Hagrid’s flute to his lips and blew. It wasn’t really a tune, but from the first note the beast’s eyes began to droop. Harry hardly drew breath. Slowly, the dog’s growls ceased — it tottered on its paws and fell to its knees, then it slumped to the ground, fast asleep. “Keep playing,” Ron warned Harry as they slipped out of the cloak and crept toward the trapdoor. They could feel the dog’s hot, smelly breath as they approached the giant heads. “I think we’ll be able to pull the door open,” said Ron, peering over the dog’s back. “Want to go first, Hermione, Aurora? Ladies first and all” Jacob said, looking at the girls. “No, I don’t!” Hermione replied. “No thank you” Aurora replied.  “All right.” Ron gritted his teeth and stepped carefully over the dog’s legs. He bent and pulled the ring of the trapdoor, which swung up and open. “What can you see?” Aurora said anxiously. “Nothing — just black — there’s no way of climbing down, we’ll just have to drop.” Harry, who was still playing the flute, waved at Ron to get his attention and pointed at himself. Jacob gritted his teeth to stop himself from saying something he’d regret. “You want to go first? Are you sure?” said Ron. “I don’t know how deep this thing goes. Give the flute to Hermione so she can keep him asleep.” Harry handed the flute over. In the few seconds’ silence, the dog growled and twitched, but the moment Hermione began to play, it fell back into its deep sleep. Harry climbed over it and looked down through the trapdoor. There was no sign of the bottom. He lowered himself through the hole until he was hanging on by his fingertips. Then he looked up at Ron and said, “If anything happens to me, don’t follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?” Jacob nodded slightly.  “Right,” said Ron. “See you in a minute, I hope. …” And Harry let go.   

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

FLUMP.   

“It’s okay!” Harry called up to the light the size of a postage stamp, which was the open trapdoor, “it’s a soft landing, you can jump!” Ron followed right away followed by Aurora, then Jacob and then Hermione.  “We must be miles under the school,” Hermione said. “Lucky this plant thing’s here, really,” said Ron. “Lucky!” shrieked Hermione. “Look at you!” She leapt up and struggled toward a damp wall. She had to struggle because the moment she had landed, the plant had started to twist snakelike tendrils around her ankles. As for Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Ron, their legs had already been bound tightly in long creepers without their noticing. Hermione had managed to free herself before the plant got a firm grip on her. Now she watched in horror as the others fought to pull the plant off them, but the more they strained against it, the tighter and faster the plant wound around them. “Stop moving! I know what this is — it’s Devil’s Snare!” Hermione ordered them.  “Oh, I’m so glad we know what it’s called, that’s a great help,” snarled Ron, leaning back, trying to stop the plant from curling around his neck.  “Oh, we know what it is. Now we won’t day. Yepi!” Jacob cheered.  “Shut up, I’m trying to remember how to kill it!” said Hermione. “Well, hurry up, I can’t breathe!” Harry gasped, wrestling with it as it curled around his chest.  

“Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare … what did Professor Sprout say? — it likes the dark and the damp —”   

“So light a bloody fire!”   

“Yes — of course — but there’s no wood!”   

“HAVE YOU GONE MAD? ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?”  

“Oh, right!” said Hermione, and she whipped out her wand, waved it, muttered something, and sent a jet of the same bluebell flames she had used on Snape at the plant. In a matter of seconds, the two boys felt it loosening its grip as it cringed away from the light and warmth. Wriggling and flailing, it unraveled itself from their bodies, and they were able to pull free. “Lucky you pay attention in Herbology, Hermione,” said Aurora as she joined her by the wall, wiping sweat off his face. “Yeah, and lucky Harry doesn’t lose his head in a crisis — ‘there’s no wood,’ honestly.” said Ron. Jacob bit his lip to stop himself from making the comment that this has nothing to do with Harry but yeah make everything about the chosen one.  “This way,” said Harry, pointing down a stone passageway, which was the only way forward.  

All they could hear apart from their footsteps was the gentle drip of water trickling down the walls. The passageway sloped downward, and Jacob felt unsettled. “Can you hear something?” Ron whispered. A soft rustling and clinking seemed to be coming from up ahead. “Do you think it’s a ghost?” Aurora asked.  “I don’t know … sounds like wings to me.” Harry answered, “There’s light ahead — I can see something moving.” Ron replies. “Oh yes, go towards the dangerous moving thing.” Jacob muttered as they set off walking. They reached the end of the passageway and saw before them a brilliantly lit chamber, its ceiling arching high above them. It was full of small, jewel bright birds, fluttering and tumbling all around the room. On the opposite side of the chamber was a heavy wooden door. “Do you think they’ll attack us if we cross the room?” said Ron. “Probably,” said Harry. “They don’t look very vicious, but I suppose if they all swooped down at once … well, there’s no other choice … I’ll run.” He took a deep breath, covered his face with his arms, and sprinted across the room. “Yeah, because this is so safe” Jacob said, rolling his eyes. But nothing happened, he was able to reach the door without being attacked. Harry quickly pulled on the handle, but it was locked. The other Gryffindor's quickly ran over to him.. They tugged and heaved at the door, but it wouldn’t budge, not even when Hermione tried her Alohomora Charm. But while they were all trying to work, Jacob decided to watch the birds and he noticed something.   

“It’s true what they say, Gryffindor’s notice nothing”  

“What do you mean by that”  

“What I mean, Weasley, is that the birds aren’t birds. They are keys with wings and if you look behind you, there’s broom. I think we need to get the top key and unlock the door.”  

“and why, oh smart one, do you think it’s the top one?”  

“It a different colour dip wit. Now there’s three brooms. Hermione hates flying and I can’t go fast. So, Ron, Harry and Auora, you need to close in on it”  

“And who put you in charge?”  

“Just do it, Weasley”  

With a look to Harry, the three mentioned quickly got on the brooms and zoomed off. Jacob and Hermione watched as they cornered the key. They watched as Ron dived to the key, Aurora rocketed upward to the key, the key dodged them both, and Harry streaked after it; it sped toward the wall, Harry leaned forward and with a nasty, crunching noise, pinned it against the stone with one hand. They landed quickly, and Harry ran to the door, the key struggling in his hand. He rammed it into the lock and turned — it worked. The moment the lock had clicked open, the key took flight again, looking very battered now that it had been caught twice. “Ready?” Harry asked the other four, his hand on the door handle. They nodded. He pulled the door open.   

ROAR!!   

 The next room was just a corridor with a door at the end,  it could have been any normal corridor in Hogwarts if it wasn’t for the fact that a hideous beast was guarding the door. The beast had dark black hair and sharp purple horns. When the beast roared, sharp, purely white fangs were on view. On everyone paw, there were 5 pointy claws, ready to cut you to shreds. The beast's long, snake like tail looked like it was soaked in blood. Jacob, Hermione, Ron and Harry all shared a look before grabbing their wands and rushing towards the beast to attack it but suddenly....  

“STOP!”   

Aurora was in front of the beast, stroking it’s mane. “get away from it!” Harry yelled, Aurora didn’t seem to hear him but something magical was happening. The beast wasn’t attacking. No the beast seemed to be cuddling into Aurora’s arms. “aww you are just so cute. Do you need a nap?” Aurora asked and the beast nodded slightly.  “Why don’t you lay down and have a nap? I’ll make sure no bad people will hurt you”. Aurora whispered sweet things as the beast fell to sleep. As soon as it was certain the beast wouldn’t wake up, Aurora moved away and pulled the door open for everyone.   

The next chamber was so dark they couldn’t see anything at all. But as they stepped into it, light suddenly flooded the room to reveal an astonishing sight. They were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen, which were all taller than they were and carved from what looked like black stone. Facing them, way across the chamber, were the white pieces. Harry, Aurora, Ron and Hermione shivered slightly — the towering white chessmen had no faces. “Great chess. Draco keeps trying to get me to play this. Please don’t say we have to play chess” Jacob muttered to himself, but he already knew the answer. “We’ve got to play our way across the room.” Ron answers and Jacob groaned. Behind the white pieces they could see another door. “How?” said Hermione nervously. “I think,” said Ron, “we’re going to have to be chessmen.” He walked up to a black knight and put his hand out to touch the knights horse. At once, the stone sprang to life. The horse pawed the ground, and the knight turned his helmeted head to look down at Ron. “Do we — er — have to join you to get across?” The black knight nodded. Ron turned to the others. “This needs thinking about. …” he said. “I suppose we’ve got to take the place of five of the black pieces. …” Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Hermione stayed quiet, watching Ron think. Finally he said, “Now, don’t be offended or anything, but none of you are that good at chess —” Jacob rolled his eyes. “Just tell us what to do weasley” Jacob commented.  

  “Well, Harry, you take the place of that bishop, and Hermione, you go there instead of that castle. Aurora, you be the queen. Jacob, you be a pawn”  

“What about you?”  

“I’m going to be a knight,”   

The chessmen seemed to have been listening, because at these words a knight, a bishop, a pawn, the queen and a castle turned their backs on the white pieces and walked off the board, leaving three empty squares that Harry, Ron, Aurora, and Hermione took. “White always plays first in chess,” said Ron, peering across the board. “Yes … look …” A white pawn had moved forward two squares. Ron started to direct the black pieces. They moved silently wherever he sent them.   

“Harry — move diagonally four squares to the right.”  

Their first real shock came when their other knight was taken. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged him off the board, where he lay quite still, facedown.  

“Had to let that happen, Leaves you free to take that bishop, Hermione, go on.”  

Every time one of their men was lost, the white pieces showed no mercy. Soon there was a huddle of limp black players slumped along the wall. Twice, Ron only just noticed in time that Harry, Aurora, Jacob and Hermione were in danger. He himself darted around the board, taking almost as many white pieces as they had lost black ones.  

“We’re nearly there, let me think — let me think …” The white queen turned her blank face toward him. “Yes … it’s the only way … I’ve got to be taken.” said Ron softly, “NO!” Harry, Aurora and Hermione shouted. Jacob said “no don’t” in a sarcastic whisper.  “That’s chess!” snapped Ron. “You’ve got to make some sacrifices! I make my move, and she’ll take me — that leaves you free to checkmate the king, Harry!”  

“But —”  

“Do you want to stop Snape or not?”  

“Ron —”  

“Look, if you don’t hurry up, he’ll already have the Stone!”  

There was no alternative. “Ready?” Ron called, his face pale but determined. “Here I go — now, don’t hang around once you’ve won.” He stepped forward, and the white queen pounced. She struck Ron hard across the head with her stone arm, and he crashed to the floor — Hermione screamed but stayed on her square — the white queen dragged Ron to one side. He looked as if he’d been knocked out. Shaking, Harry moved three spaces to the left. The white king took off his crown and threw it at Harry’s feet. They had won. The chessmen parted and bowed, leaving the door ahead clear. With one last desperate look back at Ron, Harry, Aurora, Jacob and Hermione charged through the door and up the next passageway. “What if he’s — ?” Aurora started. Jacob went to say hopefully but Harry cut him off.  “He’ll be all right, what do you reckon’s next?” said Harry, trying to convince himself. “We’ve had Sprout’s, that was the Devil’s Snare; Flitwick must’ve put charms on the keys; McGonagall transfigured the chessmen to make them alive; that leaves Quirrell’s spell, and Snape’s …” Hermione cut herself off, they had reached another door. “All right?” Harry whispered. “Go on.” she replied. It was locked. Next to the door was a table none of them had noticed before. On the table was a cup, a caged rat and a bird with a note. Aurora quickly picked up the note and read it out loud.   

“ a key you need  

But no key insight  

Transfiguration you need  

But what do you Transfigure  

To fly free.  

Choice Wisely or be stuck”  

Hermione grabbed the note and read it over multiple times before smirking and grabbing her wand. She points her wand at the bird and casts the spell. Suddenly the bird turns into a golden key to match the door handle. “well done Granger” Jacob said, grabbing the key and unlocking the door. At once, he pulled open the door.   

A disgusting smell filled their nostrils, making them pull their robes up over their noses. Jacob nearly threw up. Eyes watering, they saw, flat on the floor in front of them, a troll even larger than the one they had tackled, out cold with a bloody lump on its head. “I’m glad we didn’t have to fight that one,” Harry whispered as they stepped carefully over one of its massive legs. “Come on, I think I am going to be sick” Jacob whispered. Jacob pulled open the next door, hardly daring to look at what came next — but there was nothing very frightening in here, just a table with seven differently shaped bottles standing on it in a line.  

“Snape’s,” said Harry. “What do we have to do?”  

They stepped over the threshold, and immediately a fire sprang up behind them in the doorway. It wasn’t ordinary fire either; it was purple. At the same instant, black flames shot up in the doorway leading onward. They were trapped.  “Look!” Hermione seized a roll of paper lying next to the bottles.   

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,  

Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,  

One among us seven will let you move ahead,  

Another will transport the drinker back instead,  

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,  

Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line.  

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,  

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:  

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide  

You will always find some on nettle wine’s left side;  

Second, different are those who stand at either end,  

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;  

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,  

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;  

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right  

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.  

Jacob smiled widely and cracks his knuckles. “Move out of the way peasants. This is my challenge” Jacob said, smirking. “Everything we need is here on this paper. Seven bottles: two are poison; one is wine; two will get us safely through the black fire, and two will get us back through the purple.” Jacob read the paper several times. Then he walked up and down the line of bottles, muttering to himself and pointing at them. At last, he clapped her hands. “Got it,” she said. “The smallest two bottles will get us through the black fire — toward the Stone.” Harry looked at the tiny bottle. “There’s only enough there for two of us,” he said. “That’s hardly one swallow.” They looked at each other. “Which two will get you back through the purple flames?” Harry asked. Jacob pointed at a rounded bottle at the right end of the line. “Aurora, Hermione. You drink those. No, listen, get back and get Ron. Grab brooms from the flying-key room, they’ll get you out of the trapdoor and past Fluffy — go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, we need him. Me and Harry might be able to hold Snape off for a while, but I’m no match for him, really.” Harry explained.  “But Harry — what if You-Know-Who’s with him?” Hermione called out.   

“Well — I was lucky once, wasn’t I? I might get lucky again. And Jacob, he’s my twin and we are in it until the end” said Harry, pointing at his scar.   

Hermione’s lip trembled, and she suddenly dashed at Harry and threw her arms around him.  

“Hermione!”  

“Harry — you’re a great wizard, you know.”  

“I’m not as good as you,” said Harry, very embarrassed, as she let go of him. “Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and — oh Harry — be careful!” said Hermione.  “You two drink first,” said Harry. “You are sure which is which, aren’t you?” Jacob nodded. “Potions are my thing, Harry” Jacob said. The girls got their potions and downed them. “It’s not poison?” said Harry anxiously. Jacob gave him ‘are you serious’ look.  

“No — but it’s like ice.”  

“Quick, go, before it wears off.”  

“Good luck — take care —”  

“GO!”  

Hermione and Aurora turned and walked straight through the purple fire. The twins quickly grabbed the small bottles, faced the black flames and chugged them. It was indeed as though ice was flooding his body. Harry put the bottle down and walked forward; Jacob quickly followed. He braced himself, saw the black flames licking his body, but couldn’t feel them — for a moment he could see nothing but dark fire — then he was on the other side, in the last chamber. Jacob went to speak but Harry shushed him and pointed.  There was already someone there — but it wasn’t Snape. It wasn’t even Voldemort.  

“What the fuck? Quirrell?”  

Quirrell smiled. His face wasn't twitching at all. "Me, I wondered whether I’d be meeting you here, Potter twins." he said calmly.  "But I thought — Snape — " harry started "Severus?" Quirrell laughed, and it wasn't his usual quivering treble, either, but cold and sharp. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?" Jacob glared at him. “I told you Snape wasn’t the problem” Jacob muttered. "But Snape tried to kill me!" Harry argued.  "No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to set fire to Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you." The teacher argued.   

"Snape was trying to save me?"  

 "Of course, \Why do you think he wanted to referee your next match? He was trying to make sure I didn't do it again. Funny, really... he needn't have bothered. I couldn't do anything with Dumbledore watching. All the other teachers thought Snape was trying to stop Gryffindor from winning, he did make himself unpopular... and what a waste of time, when after all that, I'm going to kill you tonight."   

Quirrell snapped his fingers. Ropes sprang out of thin air and wrapped themselves tightly around Harry and Jacob.   

"You're both too nosy to live, Potters. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."   

"You let the troll in?"   

"Certainly. I have a special gift with trolls — you must have seen what I did to the one in the chamber back there? Unfortunately, while everyone else was running around looking for it, Snape, who already suspected me, went straight to the third floor to head me off — and not only did my troll fail to beat you to death, that three-headed dog didn't even manage to bite Snape's leg off properly. Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror.”   

 It was only then that Jacob realized what was standing behind Quirrell. It was the Mirror of Erised. "This mirror is the key to finding the Stone," Quirrell murmured, tapping his way around the frame. "Trust Dumbledore to come up with something like this... but he's in London... I'll be far away by the time he gets back...."  Jacob didn’t know what to do. They are kids they shouldn’t be dealing with this. "I saw you and Snape in the forest — " Harry blurted out. "Yes," said Quirrell idly, walking around the mirror to look at the back. "He was on to me by that time, trying to find out how far I'd got. He suspected me all along. Tried to frighten me - as though he could, when I had Lord Voldemort on my side...." Quirrell came back out from behind the mirror and stared hungrily into it. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" Harry and jacob struggled against the ropes binding them, but they didn't give. "But Snape always seemed to hate me so much." Harry argued.  

"Oh, he does, heavens, yes. He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. Because of your mother, the one your twin looks so much like"  

"But I heard you a few days ago, sobbing — I thought Snape was threatening you...."   

For the first time, a spasm of fear flitted across Quirrell's face.   

"Sometimes, I find it hard to follow my master's instructions — he is a great wizard and I am weak — "  

"You mean he was there in the classroom with you?"   

"He is with me wherever I go, I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it.... Since then, I have served him faithfully, although I have let him down many times. He has had to be very hard on me. He does not forgive mistakes easily. When I failed to steal the stone from Gringotts, he was most displeased. He punished me... decided he would have to keep a closer watch on me......... I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it?"  

Jacob continued to try and get out of the ropes. But nothing worked.  Suddenly Harry tried to edge them to the left, to get in front of the glass without Quirrell noticing, but the ropes around their ankles were too tight: harry tripped and fell over, pulling Jacob over to. Quirrell ignored them. He was still talking to himself. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" And to Jacob’s horror, a voice answered, and the voice seemed to come from Quirrell himself "Use the boys... Use the boys..."   

Quirrell rounded on Harry and Jacob. "Yes — Potters — come here." He clapped his hands once, and the ropes binding Harry and Jacob fell off. Harry and Jacob got slowly to their feet. "Come here," Quirrell repeated. "Look in the mirror and tell me what you see." Harry and Jacob walked toward him. Quirrell moved close behind them. Jacob breathed in the funny smell that seemed to come from Quirrell's turban. He closed his eyes, stepped in front of the mirror, and opened them again. He saw his and Harry’s reflections, pale and scared-looking at first. But a moment later, the reflection of Harry smiled at them. It put its hand into its pocket and pulled out a blood-red stone. It winked and put the Stone back in its pocket — and as it did so, Harry gave Jacob a look, harry had the stone.  "Well? What do you see?" said Quirrell impatiently. “Getting rid of Dursleys for good” Jacob answered.  "I see myself shaking hands with Dumbledore," Harry invented. "I — I've won the house cup for Gryffindor." Quirrell cursed again. "Get out of the way," he said.  

“They lie... They lie...”  

The twins hadn't walked five paces before a high voice spoke, though Quirrell wasn't moving his lips.  "Potters, come back here!" Quirrell shouted. "Tell me the truth! What did you just see?" The high voice spoke again.   

“Let me speak to him... face-to-face...”  

 “Master, you are not strong enough!”  

 “I have strength enough... for this....”  

Jacob tried to move but he couldn’t. He  watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot. “What the....” Jacob whispered. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Jacob had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake. “Harry Potter... Jacob Potter.....” it whispered. The twins tried to move but their legs wouldn’t let.   

 “See what I have become? Mere shadow and vapor ... I have form only when I can share another’s body... but there have always been those willing to let me into their hearts and minds.... Unicorn blood has strengthened me, these past weeks... you saw faithful Quirrell drinking it for me in the forest... and once I have the Elixir of Life, I will be able to create a body of my own.... Now... why don’t you give me that Stone in your pocket?”  

 So he knew. Suddenly Harry stumbled backward, Jacob rushed after them.  

 “Don’t be a fool, Better save your own lives and join me... or you’ll meet the same end as your parents....  They died begging me for mercy...”  

 “LIAR!” Harry shouted suddenly. “Why do you not have a nose?” Jacob yelled. Quirrell was walking backward at him, so that Voldemort could still see him. The evil face was now smiling.  

 “How touching... I always value bravery, even in a Slytherin... Yes, boys, your parents were brave....  I killed your father first; And he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn’t have died... she was trying to protect you both.... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain”  

 “NEVER!” Harry and Jacob sprang toward the flame door, but Voldemort screamed “SEIZE THEM!”  and the next second, Jacob felt Quirrell’s hand close on his wrist (he also grabbed Harry’s).  At once, a needle-sharp pain seared across Harry’s and Jacob’s scars; his left shoulder felt as though it was about to split in two; the twins yelled, struggling with all their might, and to his surprise, Quirrell let go of them. The pain in his shouldee lessened   —   he looked around wildly to see where Quirrell had gone, and saw him hunched in pain, looking at his fingers   —   they were blistering before his eyes.  

 “Seize them!  SEIZE THEM!“  shrieked Voldemort again, and Quirrell lunged, knocking Harry and Jacob clean off their feet’ landing on top of them, one hand around Harry’s neck, the other around Jacob’s  —   Jacob’s scar was almost blinding him with pain, yet he could see Quirrell howling in agony.  

 “Master, I cannot hold him   —   my hands   —   my hands!”  

 And Quirrell, though pinning Harry and Jacob to the ground with his knees, let go of their necks and stared, bewildered, at his own palms   —  Jacob could see they looked burned, raw, red, and shiny.  

 “Then kill them, fool, and be done”    

 Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face   —    

 “AAAARGH!”  

 Quirrell rolled off them, his face blistering, too, and then Jacob knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch their bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain   —   their only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. The twins instently jumped to their feet, caught Quirrell by the arms, and hung on as tight as they could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off – the pain in Jacob’s shoulder was building   —   he couldn’t see   —   he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL THEM! KILL THEM!” and other voices, maybe in Jacob’s own head, crying, “Harry! Jacob!”.  He felt Quirrell’s arm wrenched from his grasp, knew all was lost, and fell into blackness, down ...  

 down...  

 down...  

 Something gold was glinting just above him.  

 The Snitch!  

 He tried to catch it, but his arms were too heavy.  

 He blinked.  

 It wasn’t the Snitch at all.  

 It was a pair of glasses.  

 How strange.  

 He blinked again.  

 The smiling face of Albus Dumbledore swam into view above him.  

“Good afternoon, Harry, Jacob” said Dumbledore. Jacob and Harry stared at him. “Sir! The Stone!  It was Quirrell!  He’s got the Stone! Sir, quick   —” Harry started. “Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times,” said Dumbledore. “Quirrell does not have the Stone.” Jacob looked at him confused. “Then who does? Sir, I   —” Harry tried to say but Dumbledore cut him off.  “Harry, please relax, or Madam Pomfrey will have me thrown out. Jacob rolled his eyes and looked around.  He realized they must be in the hospital wing. They were lying in beds with white linen sheets, and next to harry was a table piled high with what looked like half the candy shop. Jacob’s table just had a couple of cards from the Slytherin’s.  

 “Tokens from your friends and admirers, What happened down in the dungeons between you and Professor Quirrell is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows. I believe your friends Misters Fred and George Weasley were responsible for trying to send you a toilet seat. No doubt they thought it would amuse you. Madam Pomfrey, however, felt it might not be very hygienic, and confiscated it.”  

 “How long have we been in here?”  

 “Three days. Mr. Ronald Weasley, Miss Tonks and Miss Granger will be most relieved you have come round, they have been extremely worried.”  

 “But sit, the Stone”  

 “I see you are not to be distracted. Very well, the Stone. Professor Quirrell did not manage to take it from you.  I arrived in time to prevent that, although you both were doing very well on your own, I must say.”  

 “You got there? You got Hermione’s owl?”  

 “We must have crossed in midair. No sooner had I reached London than it became clear to me that the place I should be was the one I had just left.”  

“Wait. Wait you knew something was off? So you knew something was going to happen. You knew something was iffy and you still left. You made us do your job. We are children so grow up and do your own job protecting the stone” Jacob argued but Dumbledore just ignored him and carried on talking with Harry, as if Jacob wasn’t there at all.   

“I arrived just in time to pull Quirrell off you.”  

 “It was you.”  

 “I feared I might be too late.”  

 “You nearly were, we couldn’t have kept him off the Stone much longer   —"  

 “Not the Stone, boy, you   —   the effort involved nearly killed you both.  For one terrible moment there, I was afraid it had. As for the Stone, it has been destroyed.”  

 “Destroyed? But your friend   —   Nicolas Flamel   —"  

 “Oh, you know about Nicolas? You did do the thing properly, didn’t you? Well, Nicolas and I have had a little chat, and agreed it’s all for the best.”  

 “But that means he and his wife will die, won’t they?”  

 “They have enough Elixir stored to set their affairs in order and then, yes, they will die. To one as young as you, I’m sure it seems incredible, but to Nicolas and Perenelle, it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all   —   the trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them.”    

 “Sir? I’ve been thinking... sir   —   even if the Stone’s gone, Vol-, I mean, You-Know- Who   —"  

 “Call him Voldemort, Harry.  Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”  

 “Yes, sir. Well, Voldemort’s going to try other ways of coming back, isn’t he? I mean, he hasn’t gone, has he?”  

 “No, Harry, he has not.  He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. He left Quirrell to die;  He shows just as little mercy to his followers as his enemies.  Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time   —   and if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power.”  

“Sir, there are some other things I’d like to know, if you can tell me... things I want to know the truth about....”  

 “The truth. It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you’ll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie.”  

 “Well... Voldemort said that he only killed our mother because she tried to stop him from killing us. But why would he want to kill us in the first place?”  

 “Alas, the first thing you ask me, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry.  When you are older...  I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know.”  

 “But why couldn’t Quirrell touch us?”  

 “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”  

“And the invisibility cloak – do you know who sent it to me?”  

 “Ah – your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here. I’m afraid your mother left nothing for me to give you, Jacob”   

 “And there’s something else...”  

 “Fire away.”  

 “Quirrell said Snape   —  “  

 “Professor Snape, Harry.”  

  “Yes, him   —   Quirrell said he hates me because he hated my father. Is that true?”  

 “Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive.”  

 “What?”  

 “He saved his life.”  

 “What?”  

 “Yes... Funny, the way people’s minds work, isn’t it Professor Snape couldn’t bear being in your father’s debt....  I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father’s memory in peace....”  

 “And sir, there’s one more thing...”  

 “Just the one?”  

 “How did I get the Stone out of the mirror?”  

 “Ah, now, I’m glad you asked me that. It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that’s saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone   —   find it, but not use it   —   would be able to get it, otherwise they’d just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life.  My brain surprises even me sometimes.... Now, enough questions.  I suggest you make a start on these sweets. Ah! Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans!  I was unfortunate enough in my youth to come across a vomit flavored one, and since then I’m afraid I’ve rather lost my liking for them   —   but I think I’ll be safe with a nice toffee, don’t you?”  

 He smiled and popped the golden-brown bean into his mouth. Then he choked and said, “Alas! Ear wax!”  Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was a nice woman, but very strict. “Just five minutes,” Harry pleaded.  

 “Absolutely not.”  

 “You let Professor Dumbledore in...”  

 “Well, of course, that was the headmaster, quite different. You need rest.”  

 “I am resting, look, lying down and everything. Oh, go on, Madam Pomfrey...”  

 “Oh, very well, But five minutes only.”  

 And she let Ron, Aurora and Hermione in. Draco wasn’t allowed to visit.   “Harry!” Hermione looked ready to fling her arms around him again but she held herself off.  “Oh, Harry, Jacob, we were sure you were going to   Dumbledore was so worried   —” Hermione was cut off by Jacob muttering “Dumbledore is an old mut that makes other people do his jobs”. Aurora gave him a look, everyone else seemed to ignore him.  “The whole school’s talking about it,” said Ron.  “What really happened?” It was one of those rare occasions when the true story is even more strange and exciting than the wild rumors. Harry and Jacob told them everything:  

Quirrell;  

 The mirror;  

 The Stone;  

 And Voldemort.  

 Ron, Aurora and Hermione were a very good audience; They gasped in all the right places, and when Jacob told them what was under Quirrell’s turban, Hermione screamed out loud. “So the Stone’s gone?”  said Ron finally.  “Flamel’s just going to die?” Jacob nodded.  “That’s what I said, but Dumbledore thinks that   —   what was it?  ‘to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.” Harry explained. “I always said he was off his rocker,” said Ron, looking quite impressed at how crazy his hero was. “he is nuts and too odd to leave” Jacob muttered.  “So what happened to you three?”  said Harry. “Well, Me and Mione got back all right, we brought Ron round   —   that took a while   —   and we were dashing up to the owlery to contact Dumbledore when we met him in the entrance hall   —   he already knew   —   he just said, ‘Harry’s gone after him, hasn’t he?”  and hurtled off to the third floor.” said Aurora   “D’you think he meant you to do it? Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?”  said Ron. “Well, if he did   —   I mean to say that’s terrible   —   you could have been killed.” Hermione exploded. “He did and it is” Jacob answered, still angry.  “No, it isn’t, He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It's almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could...." said Harry thoughtfully. "Yeah, Dumbledore's off his rocker, all right," said Ron proudly. "Listen, you've got to be up for the end-of-year feast tomorrow. The points are all in and Slytherin won, of course — you missed the last Quidditch match, we were steamrollered by Ravenclaw without you — but the food'll be good." Jacob smirked, Slytherin had won. At that moment, Madam Pomfrey bustled over. "You've had nearly fifteen minutes, now OUT" she said firmly.  

 After a good night's sleep, Harry and Jacob felt nearly back to normal. “we want to go to the feast, we can, can’t we?" Harry told Madam Pomfrey as she straightened his many candy boxes. "Professor Dumbledore says you are to be allowed to go, And you have another visitor." she said stiffily, as though in her opinion Professor Dumbledore didn't realize how risky feasts could be. "Oh, good," said Harry. "Who is it?"   

Hagrid sidled through the door as he spoke. As usual when he was indoors, Hagrid looked too big to be allowed. He sat down next to Harry, took one look at them, and burst into tears. "It's — all — my — ruddy — fault! I told the evil git how ter get past Fluffy! I told him! It was the only thing he didn’t know, an’ I told him! Yeh could’ve died! All fer a dragon egg! I’ll never drink again! I should be chucked out an’ made ter live as a Muggle!" he sobbed, his face in his hands. Jacob rolled his eyes. "Hagrid! Hagrid, he’d have found out somehow, this is Voldemort we’re talking about, he’d have found out even if you hadn’t told him." said Harry, shocked to see Hagrid shaking with grief and remorse, great tears leaking down into his beard. "Yeh both could've died! An’ don’ say the name!" sobbed Hagrid.  "VOLDEMORT!" Harry bellowed, and Hagrid was so shocked, he stopped crying. "I've met him and I'm calling him by his name. Please cheer up, Hagrid, we saved the Stone, it's gone, he can't use it. Have a Chocolate Frog, I've got loads...." Hagrid wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "That reminds me. I've got yeh both a present." Jacob scrunched up his face. "It's not a stoat sandwich, is it?" said Harry anxiously, and at last Hagrid gave a weak chuckle. "Nah. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter fix it. 'Course, he shoulda sacked me instead — anyway, got yeh this..." It seemed to be a handsome, leather-covered book. Harry opened it curiously. It was full of wizard photographs. Smiling and waving at him from every page were his mother and father. "Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos... knew yeh didn' have any... d'yeh like it?" Harry and Jacob stared at it, not knowing what to say.   

Harry and Jacob made their way down to the end-of-year feast alone that night. Theybhad been held up by Madam Pomfrey's fussing about, insisting on giving them one last checkup, so the Great Hall was already full. It was decked out in the Slytherin colors of green and silver to celebrate Slytherin's winning the house cup for the seventh year in a row. A huge banner showing the Slytherin serpent covered the wall behind the High Table. When Harry and Jacob walked in there was a sudden hush, and then everybody started talking loudly at once.  Jacob quickly sat next to Draco and Draco started complaining about how Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t let him visit. Fortunately, Dumbledore arrived moments later. The babble died away.   

"Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts.... Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 262; In third, Hufflepuff, with 352; Ravenclaw has 426 and Slytherin, 472”  

A storm of cheering and stamping broke out from the Slytherin table. Jacob cheered. Draco Malfoy starts banging his goblet on the table. Jacob smiled.   

 “Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin, However, recent events must be taken into account.”  

 The room went very still. The Slytherins’ smiles faded a little. “If he makes Gryffindor win because of him putting us in danger, I’m going to give him hell” Jacob whispered.   

 “Ahem, I have a few last-minute points to dish out.  Let me see.  Yes... First   —   to Mr. Ronald Weasley......for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”  

 Gryffindor cheers nearly raised the bewitched ceiling; the stars overhead seemed to quiver. Percy could be heard telling the other prefects, “My brother, you know! My youngest brother! Got past McGonagall’s giant chess set!” At last there was silence again.  

“Second   —   to Miss Hermione Granger... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”   

 Hermione buried her face in her arms. Gryffindor’s up and down the table were beside themselves   —   they were a hundred points up.  

“Third  - To Miss Aurora Tonks for staying kind in the face of danger. I award Gryffindor house fifty points.”  

Aurora smiled widely, more Gryffindor’s cheer.   

  “Fourth   —   to Mr. Harry Potter...”   

 The room went deadly quiet.   

“for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.”  

 The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling themselves hoarse knew that Gryffindor now had four hundred and seventy-two points   —   exactly the same as Slytherin.  They had tied for the house cup   —   if only Dumbledore had given Harry just one more point. Dumbledore raised his hand. The room gradually fell silent.  

 “There are all kinds of courage, It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.”  

 Someone standing outside the Great Hall might well have thought some sort of explosion had taken place, so loud was the noise that erupted from the Gryffindor table. Harry, Ron, Aurora and Hermione stood up to yell and cheer as Neville, white with shock, disappeared under a pile of people hugging him. Jacob went white in the face. “I was there to. I was the one who finished Snape’s puzzle. I helped Harry defeat Quirrell and save that stupid stone and I get nothing because I’m not Harry freaking potter” Jacob complained. The Slytherin’s nod, all agreeing that it’s not fair as Dumbledore began to talk again.   

 “Which means, we need a little change of decoration.”  

 He clapped his hands. In an instant, the green hangings became scarlet and the silver became gold; The huge Slytherin serpent vanished and a towering Gryffindor lion took its place. Snape was shaking Professor McGonagall’s hand, with a horrible, forced smile.  

“ Student Name: Jacob Potter  

Transfiguration: 97 - Pass  

Charms: 98 - pass  

Potions: 100 - Pass  

History of Magic: 87 - Pass  

Defence Against the Dark Arts: 96 - pass  

Astronomy: 90 - pass  

Herbology: 99 – Pass”  

Before anyone knew it,  their wardrobes were empty, their trunks were packed, Neville’s toad was found lurking in a corner of the toilets; Notes were handed out to all students, warning them not to use magic over the holidays. Jacob was still going to threat the Dursleys to keep them in line though. Hagrid was there to take them down to the fleet of boats that sailed across the lake; They were boarding the Hogwarts Express; Talking and laughing as the countryside became greener and tidier; Eating Bettie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans as they sped past Muggle towns; Pulling off their wizard robes and putting on jackets and coats; Pulling into platform nine and three-quarters at King’s Cross Station. It took quite a while for them all to get off the platform. A wizened old guard was up by the ticket barrier, letting them go through the gate in twos and threes so they didn’t attract attention by all bursting out of a solid wall at once and alarming the Muggles.  

 “You must come and stay this summer, I’ll send you an owl.” said Draco, as he forced his mother to wait. “as much as I would love that, i probably won’t receive anything magic like if my uncle has anything to say about it. I’ll see you in September. My ride is about to leave” the two said goodbye to each other before Jacob rushed off to Harry who was saying bye to the Weasleys, Aurora and Hermione.   

 “Ready, are you?”  

 It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people, and Jacob, having a rat peaking out of his pocket.  Behind him stood Aunt Petunia and Dudley, looking terrified at the very sight of Harry and Jacob.  “You must be Harry’s and Jacob’s family!”  said Mrs. Weasley. “In a manner of speaking,” said Uncle Vernon. “Hurry up, boys, we haven’t got all day.”  He walked away. Jacob rolled his eyes and followed him. Harry hung back for a last word with Ron, Aurora and Hermione before hurrying after them.   

Chapter Text

“Third time this week, if can’t control that owl, it’ll have to go”   

“She’s bored. She’s used to flying around outside. If I could just let her out at night-”  

“Do I look stupid? I know what’ll happen if that owl’s let o- IS THAT A BLOODY RAT? JACOB!”   

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number four, Privet Drive. Mr. Vernon Dursley had been woken in the early hours of the morning by a loud, hooting noise from his nephew, Harry and Jacob’s, room. Jacob quickly got up and grabbed his rat. “I told you to stay in my room, Mouse” Jacob whispered before putting the rat in his pocket. Harry tried to argue back about his owl but his words were drowned by a long, loud belch from the Dursleys' son, Dudley. “I want more bacon.” He yelled. “There's more in the frying pan, sweetums, We must build you up while we’ve got the chance. . . . I don’t like the sound of that school food. . . .” said Aunt Petunia, turning misty eyes on her massive son. “Nonsense, Petunia, I never went hungry when I was at Smeltings,” said Uncle Vernon heartily. “Dudley gets enough, don't you, son?” Dudley, who was so large his bottom drooped over either side of the kitchen chair, grinned and turned to Harry. “Pass the frying pan.” Jacob rolled his eyes. “You've forgotten the magic word,” said Harry irritably.   

The effect of this simple sentence on the rest of the family was incredible: Dudley gasped and fell off his chair with a crash that shook the whole kitchen; Mrs. Dursley gave a small scream and clapped her hands to her mouth; Mr. Dursley jumped to his feet, veins throbbing in his temples. “I meant 'please'! I didn’t mean — ” said Harry quickly.    

“WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU TWO ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOUSE?”   

“But I — ”   

“HOW DARE YOU THREATEN DUDLEY!”   

“I just — “  

 “I WARNED YOU! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MENTION OF YOUR ABNORMALITY UNDER THIS ROOF!”   

“All right, all right . . .”   

Uncle Vernon sat back down, breathing like a winded rhinoceros and watching Harry and Jacob closely out of the corners of his small, sharp eyes. Ever since the twins had come home for the summer holidays, Uncle Vernon had been treating them like a bomb that might go off at any moment, because Harry and Jacob Potter weren’t normal boys which was true. But while not at Hogwarts, they had to pretend to be Muggles. All the twin spellbooks, their wands, robes, cauldron, and Harry’s  top-of the-line Nimbus Two Thousand broomstick had been locked in a  Cupboard under the stairs by Uncle Vernon the instant Harry and Draco had come home. As far as the Dursleys were concerned, having a wizard in the family was a matter of deepest shame. Uncle Vernon had even padlocked Harry’s owl, Hedwig, inside her cage, to stop her from carrying messages to anyone in the wizarding world.  He failed to trap Jacob’s rat though. The Dursleys hadn’t even remembered that today happened to be Harry’s and Jacob’s twelfth birthdays.  

 At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly and said, “Now, as we all know, today is a very important day.” Harry looked up, hardly daring to believe It. Jacob rolled his eyes at his twin being dumb.  “This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career,” said Uncle Vernon. Jacob had to hold back a laugh from Harry’s disappointed look.  Vernon was talking about the stupid dinner party. He’d been talking of nothing else for two weeks. Some rich builder and his wife were coming to dinner and Uncle Vernon was hoping to get a huge order from him (Uncle Vernon’s company made drills).  

  “I think we should run through the schedule one more time, We should all be in position at eight o’clock. Petunia, you will be   — ”   

“In the lounge, waiting to welcome them graciously to our home.” said Aunt Petunia promptly,   

“Good, good. And Dudley?”   

“I'll be waiting to open the door. May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?” Dudley put on a foul, simpering smile.  “They'll love him!” cried Aunt Petunia rapturously.   

“Excellent, Dudley, And you two?”   

Jacob sighed  “we'll be in our bedroom, making no noise and pretending we are not there,” said he tonelessly.   

“Exactly, I will lead them into the lounge, introduce you, Petunia, and pour them drinks. At eightfifteen — ”   

“I'll announce dinner,” said Aunt Petunia.   

“And, Dudley, you'll say — ”   

“May I take you through to the dining room, Mrs. Mason?” said Dudley, offering his fat arm to an invisible woman. “My perfect little gentleman!” sniffed Aunt Petunia.   

“And you two?”   

“we'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there,” said Harry dully.   

“Precisely. Now, we should aim to get in a few good compliments at dinner. Petunia, any ideas?”  

 “Vernon tells me you're a wonderful golfer, Mr. Mason. . . . Do tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs. Mason. . . .”  

 “Perfect . . . Dudley?”  

 “How about — 'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr. Mason, and I wrote about you.' ” This was too much for both Aunt Petunia, Jacob and Harry. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while the twins ducked under the table so they wouldn't see them laughing.   

“And you, boys?”   

Harry and Jacob fought to keep their face straight as they emerged. “we'll be in our room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there,” he said.   

“Too right, you will, The Masons don't know anything about you two and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs. Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject around to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed and sealed before the news at ten. We'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca this time tomorrow. Right — I'm off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you,” he snarled at Harry. “You two stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning.”   

Jacob and Harry left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. They sat on the learn together and wished each other happy birthday and gave each other their handmade presents. They were both bored and already hated their birthday and now they had to pretend like they didn’t exist. For the first couple of weeks back, Harry and Jacob had enjoyed muttering nonsense words under their breath and watching Dudley tearing out of the room as fast as his fat legs would carry him. But that soon got boring so they stopped.   

Harry and Jacob suddenly sat bolt upright on the garden bench. They had been staring absent-mindedly into the hedge — and the hedge was staring back. Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves. Harry  and Jacobjumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn. “I know what day it is,” sang Dudley, waddling toward him. The huge eyes blinked and vanished. “What?” said Harry, not taking his eyes off the spot where they had been. “I know what day it is,” Dudley repeated, coming right up to him. “Well done, So you’ve finally learned the days of the week.” said Jacob. “Today's your birthday, How come neither of you you haven’t got any cards? Haven’t you even got friends at that freak place?” sneered Dudley “Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school,” said Harry coolly. Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom. “Why're you staring at the hedge?” he said suspiciously. “I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire,” said Jacob. Dudley stumbled backward at once, a look of panic on his fat face. “You c-can't — Dad told you you're not to do m-magic — he said he'll chuck you both out of the house — and you haven't got anywhere else to go — you haven't got any friends to take you — ”  Jacob just laughed. “Jiggery pokery! Hocus pocus — squiggly wiggly —” said Harry in a fierce voice.  “MUUUUUUM!” howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back toward the house. “MUUUUM! Harry's doing you know what!” Harry paid dearly for his moment of fun.   

As neither Dudley nor the hedge was in any way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew he hadn't really done magic, but harry still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave the twins work to do, with the promise they wouldn't eat again until he'd finished. While Dudley lolled around watching and eating ice cream, Harry and Jacob cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and repainted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the back of his neck.   

 It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, they heard Aunt Petunia calling them.  “Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!” Jacob and Harry moved gladly into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridge stood tonight’s pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A loin of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.  “Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon! ”  snapped Aunt Petunia, pointing to two slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the Kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail Dress. The twins quickly wash their hands and ate their dinner.  The moment they had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away their plates.  “Upstairs! Hurry!”  As they passed the door to the living room, Jacob caught a glimpse of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bow ties and dinner jackets. They had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon’s furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.  “Remember, boys   —   one sound   —  ” Harry and Jacob crossed to their bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside, closed the door, and Harry turned to collapse on their bed.  The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it.  

“what on earth is that?! “   

The little creature on the bed had large, batlike ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. As they stared at each other, Jacob heard Dudley’s voice from the hall. “May I take your coats, Mr. And Mrs. Mason?” The creature slipped off the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long, thin nose touched the carpet. It was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm- and leg-holes. “Er — hello,” said Harry nervously. Jacob waved, hi, awkwardly. The creature ignored him.  “Harry Potter! So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir … Such an honour it is. …” said the creature in a high-pitched voice Jacob was sure would carry down the stairs. “Th-thank you,” said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to Hedwig, who was asleep in her large cage. Jacob didn’t relax at all, or let Mouse out of his pocket.  “Who or what are you?” He demanded to know.  “Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf,” said the creature. “Oh — really?” said Harry. “Er — I don’t want to be rude or anything, but — this isn’t a great time for us to have a house-elf in our bedroom.” Aunt Petunia’s high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head. “Not that I’m not pleased to meet you,” said Harry quickly, “but, er, is there any particular reason you’re here?” Jacob rolled his eyes at his twin’s politeness. “Oh, yes, sir, Dobby has come to tell you, sir … it is difficult, sir … Dobby wonders where to begin. …” said Dobby earnestly.  “Sit down,” said Harry politely, pointing at the bed. “Harry!” Jacob argued but he didn’t to because  the elf burst into tears — very noisy tears. “S-sit down! Never … never ever …” he wailed. “Oh great you offended the thing” Jacob said.  “Offend Dobby!” choked the elf. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard — like an equal —”  

Harry, trying to say “Shh!” and look comforting at the same time, ushered Dobby back onto the bed where he sat hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his great eyes fixed on Harry in an expression of watery adoration. Jacob stole Harry’s chair and sits down.  “You can’t have met many decent wizards,” said Harry, trying to cheer him up. Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!” Jacob stared at him in shock.  “Don’t — what are you doing?” Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed — Hedwig had woken up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage. “Dobby had to punish himself, sir,” said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed.  

 “Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir. …”  

“Your family?”  

“The wizard family Dobby serves, sir. … Dobby is a house-elf — bound to serve one house and one family forever. …”  

“Do they know you’re here?”   

“Oh, no, sir, no … Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir —”  

“But won’t they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?”   

“Dobby doubts it, sir. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments. …”  

“But why don’t you leave? Escape?”  

“A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free … Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir. …”  

“And I thought I had it bad staying here for another four weeks. This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can’t anyone help you? Can’t I?”  

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Harry, just because his treatment is worse doesn’t mean ours isn’t also bad. We are both in bad places. We both need to get out. But no one helps us” But Jacob’s comment went unheard as Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude. “Please, please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything, if they know you’re here —” Harry whispered frantically,  “Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby … Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew. …” Jacob was already fed up with conversation.   

“Whatever you’ve heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I’m not even top of my year at Hogwarts; that’s Hermione, she......... and Jacob’s better at classes than me”  

“Harry Potter is humble and modest, Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named —”  

“Voldemort?”   

 “Ah, speak not the name, sir! Speak not the name!”  

“Sorry, I know lots of people don’t like it. My friend Ron —”  

“Dobby heard tell, that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago … that Harry Potter escaped yet again........”  

Harry nodded as Jacob’s mumble of “i stopped him to” went unheard as the elf continued   

“Ah, sir, Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later. … Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.”  

There was a silence broken only by the chink of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon’s voice. “now I know I’ve gone mad. A elf thing is telling Harry not to go to Hogwarts. Sorry dude but we have to go back. It’s law and all. Also it’s not safe to stay here longer than we have to. So why do you just leave us be before you get us in trouble?” Jacob said, glaring at Dobby.  “No, no, no, Harry Potter must stay where he is safe. He is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.” squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. “Harry safe here? Nice joke” Jacob laughed but he was ignored. “Why?” said Harry in surprise. “There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year, Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!” whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over.  “What terrible things?” said Harry at once. “Who’s plotting them?” Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head frantically against the wall. “All right!” cried Harry, grabbing the elf’s arm to stop him. “You can’t tell me. I understand. But why are you warning me?” A sudden, unpleasant thought struck him. “Hang on — this hasn’t got anything to do with Vol — sorry — with You-Know-Who, has it? You could just shake or nod,” he added hastily as Dobby’s head tilted worryingly close to the wall again. Slowly, Dobby shook his head. “Not — not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir —”But Dobby’s eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give Harry a hint. Harry, however, was completely lost.  

“He hasn’t got a brother, has he?”  

Dobby shook his head, his eyes wider than ever.  

“Well then, I can’t think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts, I mean, there’s Dumbledore, for one thing — you know who Dumbledore is, don’t you?”  

“Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore’s powers rival those of He Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the height of his strength. But, sir there are powers Dumbledore doesn’t … powers no decent wizard …”  

And before Harry or Jacob could stop him, Dobby bounded off the bed, seized the desk lamp, and started beating himself around the head with earsplitting yelps. A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Jacob heard Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, “Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!” Jacob made eye contact with Harry, they were doomed.  “Quick! In the closet!” hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the bed just as the door handle turned. “What — the — devil — are — you — doing?” said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth, his face horribly close to the twins. “You’ve just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke. … One more sound and you’ll wish you’d never been born, boys!” He stomped flat-footed from the room.   

“Told you. We are doomed and need to get out of here”  Jacob said, rolling his eyes. Shaking, Harry let Dobby out of the closet. “See what it’s like here?  See why we’ve got to go back to Hogwarts? It’s the only place we’ve got — well, I think we’ve got friends.” he said. “Friends who don’t even write to Harry and Jacob Potter?” said Dobby slyly. “I expect they’ve just been —,” said Harry, frowning. “wait a minute, How do you know our friends haven’t been writing to us” Jacob snapped, cutting Harry off.  Dobby shuffled his feet.  

“Harry Potter mustn’t be angry with Dobby. Dobby did it for the best —”  

“Have you been stopping our letters?”  

“Dobby has them here, sir,”   

Stepping nimbly out of Harry’s and Jacob’s reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. There were letters from Ron, Hermione, Aurora, Draco and Hagrid as well as a couple of present parecels. Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry. “Harry Potter mustn’t be angry. … Dobby hoped … if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him … Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir. … and i had to stop Jacob Potter’s two letters as well as its not safe” Harry made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.  

“Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face! Say you won’t go back, sir!”  

“No, Give me my friends’ letters!”  

“Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice,”   

Before Harry or Jacob could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open, and sprinted down the stairs. The twin’s quickly rushed after him, trying not to make a sound. From the dining room, Jacob heard Uncle Vernon saying, “… tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr. Mason. She’s been dying to hear …”. The two ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt their stomach disappear. Aunt Petunia’s masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby. “No,” croaked Harry. “Please … they’ll kill us. …” Harry begged.   

“Harry Potter must say he’s not going back to school —”  

“Dobby … please …”  

“Say it, sir —”  

“I can’t —”  

“Then Dobby must do it, sir, for Harry Potter’s own good.”  

The pudding fell to the floor with a heart-stopping crash. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished. There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry and Jacob, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunia’s pudding. At first, it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over.  

“Just our nephews — very disturbed — meeting strangers upsets them, so we kept them upstairs. …”  

 He shooed the shocked Masons back into the dining room, promised the twins he would flay them to within an inch of his life when the Masons had left, and handed him a mop. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and the twins started scrubbing the kitchen clean. Uncle Vernon might still have been able to make his deal — if it hadn’t been for the owl. Aunt Petunia was just passing around a box of aftereight mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs. Mason’s head, and swooped out again. Mrs. Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr. Mason stayed just long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke. Harry and Jacob stood in the kitchen, clutching the mop for support, as Uncle Vernon advanced on them, a demonic glint in his tiny eyes. “Read it!” he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. “Go on — read it!” Harry took it, read it before passing it to Jacob who read it. It did not contain birthday greetings.  

Dear Mr. And Mr. Potter,  

We have received intelligence that a Hover Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past nine.  

As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).  

We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity that risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offense under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.  

Enjoy your holidays!  

Yours sincerely, Mafalda Hopkirk  

IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE  

Ministry of Magic  

“You didn’t tell us you two weren’t allowed to use magic outside school,” said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. “Forgot to mention it. … Slipped your mind, I daresay. …” Jacob glared at him. “Well, I’ve got news for you, boys. … I’m locking you up. … You’re never going back to that school … never … and if you try and magic yourself out — they’ll expel you!” And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry and Jacob back upstairs.  

Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on the twin’s window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Jacob and Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, they were locked in his room around the clock. Three days later, the Dursleys were showing no sign of relenting, and the twinx couldn’t see any way out of his situation. Harry lay on their bed watching the sun sinking behind the bars on the window and wondered miserably what was going to happen to them while Jacob was feeding their pets with the scraps from lunch as he complained to harry.   

“You could have just lied to the thing and say you weren’t going back but noo you didn’t. I thought you said the hat wanted to put you in Slytherin, so why didn’t you use the Slytherin traits and trick him? Idiot. Now we are going to be killed and I can’t even say bye to Draco.”    

The cat-flap rattled and Aunt Petunia’s hand appeared, pushing two bowls of canned soup into the room. Jacob quickly grabs one and passed one to Harry. Ths soup were stone-cold but the twins were starving so they just downed half of it and gave the rest to their pets. Once the animals were finished, Jacob put the empty bowls back on the floor next to the cat-flap and sat back on the chair.   

“what’s gonna happen if we don’t return, Jay? Will someone be sent to see why we haven’t come back? Will they be able to make the Dursleys let us go?”   

“That’s if we survive the next four weeks, Harry. It’s getting dark. Let’s just go to bed and talk about this in the morning”   

Jacob climbed into the bed with Harry and the two fell to sleep. Despite it being a single bed, the two were thin enough to sleep top to tail in the bed. Jacob was having an amazing dream about this blonde male model that he had seen in his aunt Petunia’s magazines. Suddenly, a rattling sound filled the dream. “Stop it! Leave me alone … cut it out … I’m trying to sleep. …” Jacob heard Harry mumble and the blonde model disappeared. Jacob sighed and opened his eyes. Moonlight was shining through the bars on the window. And someone was goggling through the bars at him: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone. Ron Weasley was outside Harry’s and Jacob’s  window.  

“Harry wake up. Your ginger friend is here!”   

Harry quickly sat up, shocked.  “Ron!” breathed Harry, creeping to the window and pushing it up so they could talk through the bars. “Ron, how did you — What the — ?” Harry suddenly shut as the twins realised what they were looking at. Ron was leaning out of the back window of an old turquoise car, which was parked in mid-air. Grinning at the twins from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron’s elder twin brothers. “All right, Harry, Harry’s twin?” asked George. Jacob rolled his eyes and laid back down to try to go to sleep.   

“What’s been going on? Why haven’t you been answering my letters, Harry? I’ve asked you to stay about twelve times, and then Dad came home and said you two got an official warning for using magic in front of Muggles —”  

“It wasn’t us — and how did he know?”  

“He works for the Ministry, You know we’re not supposed to do spells outside school —”  

“You should talk,”   

“Oh, this doesn’t count, We’re only borrowing this. It’s Dad’s, we didn’t enchant it. But doing magic in front of those Muggles you live with —”  

“I told you, we didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked us up and won’t let us come back, and obviously we can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell we’ve done in three days, so —”  

“Stop gibbering!  We’ve come to take you home with us.”  

This caused Jacob to sit up in confusion as Harry and Ron carried on talking.   

“But you can’t magic us out either —”  

“We don’t need to, You forget who I’ve got with me.”  

“Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. Jacob quickly climbed out of bed and helped Harry tie the rope. “If the Dursleys wake up, We are dead,” said Harry as Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.” The two quickly moves backwards. The car revved louder and louder and suddenly, with a crunching noise, the bars were pulled clean out of the window as Fred drove straight up in the air. Jacob listened carefully  but there was no sound from the Dursleys’ bedroom, so he joined Harry back at the window. When the bars were safely in the back seat with Ron, Fred reversed as close as possible to the  window.  

“Get in,”   

“But all all Hogwarts stuff — our wands — my broomstick —”  

“Where is it?”  

“Locked in the cupboard under the stairs, and we can’t get out of this room —”  

“No problem,” said George from the front passenger seat. “Out of the way, Harry, Jacob.” Fred and George climbed catlike through the window into the room. George took an ordinary hairpin from his pocket and started to pick the lock. “A lot of wizards think it’s a waste of time, knowing this sort of Muggle trick,” said Fred, “but we feel they’re skills worth learning, even if they are a bit slow.” There was a small click and the door swung open. “So — we’ll get your trunk — you grab anything you need from your room and hand it out to Ron,” whispered George. “Watch out for the bottom stair — it creaks,” Harry whispered back as the twins disappeared onto the dark landing. Harry and Jacob quickly packed up their room and passed everything to Ron.    

“Harry where are you going?”  

“To help the twins”   

“ok. Its you’re funeral”  

Jacob watched as his twin leave the room before climbing out of the window and into the back seat of the car. They waited for a while and suddenly the three came running into the room with all their stuff. Fred climbed back into the car to pull the trunks with Ron, and Harry and George pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, the trunk slid through the window. Jacob just watched.  “A bit more,” panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car. “One good push —” Harry and George threw their shoulders against the last trunk and it slid out of the window into the back seat of the car. “Okay, let’s go,” George whispered. But as Harry climbed onto the windowsill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon’s voice.  

“THAT RUDDY OWL!”  

“I’ve forgotten Hedwig!”  

Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on — he snatched up Hedwig’s cage, dashed to the window, and passed it out to Ron. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door — and it crashed open. For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle. Ron, Jacob, Fred, and George seized Harry’s arms and pulled as hard as they could.  

“Petunia! Their getting away! THEIR GETTING AWAY!”  

But the Weasleys and Jacob gave a gigantic tug and Harry’s leg slid out of Uncle Vernon’s grasp — Harry was in the car — he’d slammed the door shut — “Put your foot down, Fred!” yelled Ron, and the car shot suddenly toward the moon. Jacob slouched down in the chair. They were free. Him and Harry were free. Harry rolled down the window, the night air whipping his hair, and looked back at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry’s window.  

“See you next summer!”  

“I hope that creature comes back and ruins your lives! So, I won’t have to return!”  

The Weasleys roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear. “Let Hedwig out,” he told Ron. “She can fly behind us. She hasn’t had a chance to stretch her wings for ages.” George handed the hairpin to Ron and, a moment later, Hedwig soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost. Jacob just took his rat out of his pocket and stroked it.  “So — what’s the story, Harry.... Jacob?” said Ron impatiently. “What’s been happening?” Jacob and Harry told them all about Dobby, the warning he’d given Harry and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long, shocked silence when he had finished. “Very fishy,” said Fred finally. “Definitely dodgy, “So he wouldn’t even tell you who’s supposed to be plotting all this stuff?” agreed George.  “I don’t think he could, we told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall.” said Harry.  Fred and George looked at each other in a way that made Jacob angry. “What! You think we are lying?!” Jacob snapped, sitting up straight.  “Well, put it this way — house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can’t usually use it without their master’s permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone’s idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?” said Fred, “Yes,” said Harry and Ron together, instantly. “Draco Malfoy, He hates me.” Harry explained.  “Draco wouldn’t do that. Stopping you, stops me and he is my friend.” Jacob said only to get a glare from Harry and Ron.  “Draco Malfoy? Not Lucius Malfoy’s son?” said George, turning around. “Must be, it’s not a very common name, is it? Why?” said Harry.  “I’ve heard Dad talking about him, He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who.” said George.  “And when You-Know-Who disappeared,” said Fred, craning around to look at Harry and Jacob, “Lucius Malfoy came back saying he’d never meant any of it. Load of dung — Dad reckons he was right in You-Know-Who’s inner circle.” Jacob rolled his eyes. The Malfoy’s haven’t shown him any reason why this wasn’t true so he didn’t believe the rumours.  “I don’t know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf. …” said Harry.  “Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they’ll be rich,” said Fred. “Yeah, Mum’s always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing, But all we’ve got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that; you wouldn’t catch one in our house.…” said George. Jacob stayed quiet. He had never met the Malfoy’s house elf but he had heard Draco talk about them before. “I’m glad we came to get you, anyway, Harry, I was getting really worried when you didn’t answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol’s fault at first —” said Ron. “”  

“Who’s Errol?”  

“Our owl. He’s ancient. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes —”  

“Who?”  

“The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made prefect, But Percy wouldn’t lend him to me, Said he needed him.”  

“Percy’s been acting very oddly this summer And he has been sending a lot of letters and spending a load of time shut up in his room. … I mean, there’s only so many times you can polish a prefect badge. … You’re driving too far west, Fred,” said George, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel. “So, does your dad know you’ve got the car?” said Harry, guessing the answer. “Er, no, he had to work tonight. Hopefully we’ll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it.” said Ron,  “What does your dad do at the Ministry of Magic, anyway?” Jacob asked.  “He works in the most boring department, The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.” said Ron. “The what?” Jacob said, shocked.  “It’s all to do with bewitching things that are Mugglemade, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home, and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare — Dad was working overtime for weeks.” Ron explained.  “What happened?” Jacob was really intrested now.  “The teapot went berserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in the hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic — it’s only him and an old warlock called Perkins in the office — and they had to do Memory Charms and all sorts of stuff to cover it up — ” Ron explained again.  “But your dad — this car —” Harry asked, filled with concern. “Yeah, Dad’s crazy about everything to do with Muggles; our shed’s full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it, and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he’d have to put himself under arrest. It drives Mum mad.” Fred laughed.  “That’s the main road,” said George, peering down through the windshield. “We’ll be there in ten minutes. … Just as well, it’s getting light. …” A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east. Fred brought the car lower, and Jacob saw a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees. “We’re a little way outside the village,” said George. “Ottery St. Catchpole.” Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees. “Touchdown!” said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard, and Jacob looked out for the first time at the Weasley’s house.   

It was ugly.   

It looked as though it had once been a large stone pigpen, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic (which, Jacob reminded himself, it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read, THE BURROW. Around the front door lay a jumble of rubber boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.  “It’s not much,” said Ron. “It’s wonderful,” said Harry happily, Jacob looked at him like he was mad. They got out of the car. “Now, we’ll go upstairs really quietly, and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then, Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, ‘Mum, look who turned up in the night!’ and she’ll be all pleased to see Harry and Jacob and no one need ever know we flew the car.” said Fred,  “Right,” said Ron. “Come on, Harry, I sleep at the — at the top —” Ron had gone a nasty greenish color, his eyes fixed on the house. The other four wheeled around.  

“Well you guys certinly are not gryffindors. No sneakiness in you”  

Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kindfaced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger. “Ah,” said Fred. “Oh, dear,” said George. Mrs. Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.  

“So,” she said. “ ’Morning, Mum,” said George, in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice. “Have you any idea how worried I’ve been?” said Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper. “Sorry, Mum, but see, we had to —” All three of Mrs. Weasley’s sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.   

“Beds empty! No note! Car gone — could have crashed — out of my mind with worry — did you care? — never, as long as I’ve lived — you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy —”  

“Perfect Percy,”   

“YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY’S BOOK! You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job —”  

It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs. Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before she turned on Harry and Jacob, who backed away. “I’m very pleased to see you, Harry, dear, You to Jacob” she said. “Come in and have some breakfast.” She turned and walked back into the house and the twins followed her. The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and the two potters sat down on the edge of his seat, looking around.  The clock on the wall opposite him had only one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edge were things like Time to make tea, Time to feed the chickens, and You’re late. Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, books with titles like Charm Your Own Cheese, Enchantment in Baking, and One Minute Feasts — It’s Magic! And the old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was “Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress, Celestina Warbeck.” Mrs. Weasley was clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered things like “don’t know what you were thinking of,” and “never would have believed it.”  

“I don’t blame you two, dears, Arthur and I have been worried about you both, too. Just last night we were saying we’d come and get you ourselves if you hadn’t written back to Ron by Friday. But really flying an illegal car halfway across the country — anyone could have seen you —”  

She flicked her wand casually at the dishes in the sink, which began to clean themselves, clinking gently in the background. “It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving them, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting bread and buttering it for Harry Jacob. She had already piled their plates high with saussages and eggs.  At that moment there was a diversion in the form of a small, redheaded figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again. “Ginny, My sister. She’s been talking about you all summer.” said Ron in an undertone to Harry.  “Yeah, she’ll be wanting your autograph, Harry,” Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother’s eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time. “Blimey, I’m tired, I think I’ll go to bed and —” yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last.  

 “You will not, It’s your own fault you’ve been up all night. You’re going to degnome the garden for me; they’re getting completely out of hand again —”  

“Oh, Mum —”  

“And you two,”   

“You can go up to bed, Harry, Jacob, You didn’t ask them to fly that wretched car —”  

“I’ll help Ron. I’ve never seen a de-gnoming —” Harry tried to argue but Jacob rolled his eyes.  “That’s very sweet of you, dear, but it’s dull work,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Now, let’s see what Lockhart’s got to say on the subject —” And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned. “Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden —” Jacob looked at the cover of the book.  Written across it in fancy gold letters were the words Gilderoy Lockhart’s Guide to Household Pests. There was a big photograph on the front of a very goodlooking wizard with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes. As always in the wizarding world, the photograph was moving; the wizard, who Jacob supposed was Gilderoy Lockhart, kept winking cheekily up at them all. Mrs. Weasley beamed down at him. “Oh, he is marvelous, He knows his household pests, all right, it’s a wonderful book. …” she said.  “Mum fancies him,” said Fred, in a very audible whisper. “I don’t blame her. He’s kind of hot” Jacob whispered back.  “Don’t be so ridiculous, Fred,” said Mrs. Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. “All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there’s a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it.”Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys slouched outside with Harry behind them. Jacob took up the offer of having a nap and let Mrs Weasley lead him to Ron’s room.   

“I’ll sort out sleeping arrangments later. Right now you can nap in Ron’s bed, dear”  

“Thank you, Mrs weasley”  

Mr Weasley later set up two camp beds in Ron’s room for the twins. Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from life on Privet Drive. Jacob hated it. The burrow was stange and unexpected. The burrow was loud and crowded. The mirrow in the kitchen kept screaming “Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!” at Harry. The ghoul in the attic howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet, and small explosions from Fred and George’s bedroom were considered perfectly normal. Jacob hated it. The space was far to small for all these people and all this noise. Jacob just wanted hogwarts to hurry up.  It didn’t help that Mr and Mrs Weasley seemed obessed with him and Harry.  Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of their socks and tried to force them to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked Harry and Jacob to sit at either side of him at the dinner table so that he could bombard them with questions about life with Muggles, asking them to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked. Lets just say, Jacob was glad when hogwarts letters arrived one morning.   

SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:  

The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk  

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart  

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart  

“You’ve been told to get all Lockhart’s books, too! The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan — bet it’s a witch.” Fred said, after reading his list and Harry’s list.  “That lot won’t come cheap, Lockhart’s books are really expensive. …” said George, with a quick look at his parents.  “Well, we’ll manage, I expect we’ll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny’s things secondhand.” said Mrs. Weasley, but she looked worried. “Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?” Harry asked Ginny. She nodded as Ron’s elder brother Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest. Percy was the only one Jacob actually liked. “Morning, all,” said Percy briskly. “Lovely day.” He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster — at least, that was what Jacob thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.  “Errol!” said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. “Finally — he’s got Hermione’s answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you both from the Dursleys.” He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron laid him on the draining board instead, muttering, “Pathetic.” Then he ripped open Hermione’s letter and read it out loud:  

 “Dear Ron, and Harry if you’re there, I hope everything went all right and that Harry is okay and that you didn’t do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get Harry and Jacob into trouble, too. I’ve been really worried and if Harry is all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think another delivery might finish your one off. I’m very busy with schoolwork, of course and we’re going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books and my sister’s things for her first year. Aurora has already agreed to meet up there so Why don’t we all meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what’s happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.”  

“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too. I can’t wait to meet her little sister” said Mrs. Weasley, starting to clear the table.  

Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside. “We’re running low, Arthur,” she sighed. “We’ll have to buy some more today. … Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear, then you Jacob” And she offered Harry the flowerpot. Jacob and Harry looked at each other than the Weasley. “so we were raised by Muggles remember so we have never done this before. Whatever this is” Jacob said. “you have never travelled by floo powder? But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?” Mr Weasley asked.  “We went on the Underground —” Harry replied.  “Really? Were there escapators? How exactly —” said Mr. Weasley eagerly.  “Not now, Arthur, Floo powder’s a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you’ve never used it before —” said Mrs. Weasley. “They’ll be all right, Mum,” said Fred. “Harry, Jacob, watch us first.” He took a pinch of glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, “Diagon Alley!” and vanished. “You must speak clearly, dear,” Mrs. Weasley told the Potter twins as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. “And be sure to get out at the right grate. …” he said, confusing the twin.  “The right what?” said Harry nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too. “Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you’ve spoken clearly —” Mrs Weasley started. “He’ll be fine, Molly, don’t fuss,” said Mr. Weasley, helping himself to Floo powder, too. “But, dear, if they get lost, how would we ever explain to their aunt and uncle?” She asked.  “they don’t care. Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if I got lost up a chimney, don’t worry about that —” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.   

“Well … all right … Harry, you go after Arthur, Then you Jacob. Now, when you get into the fire, say where you’re going —”  

“And keep your elbows tucked in,”   

“And your eyes shut, The soot —”  

“Don’t fidget, Or you might well fall out of the wrong fireplace —”  

“But don’t panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George.”  

Jacob watched as Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash. “D-Dia-gon Alley,” he coughed. “and he will end up in the wrong pace” Jacob said rolling his eyes as he took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward. “Diagon Alley!” He shouted.  It felt as though he were being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast — the roaring in his ears was deafening. He kept his eyes closed until he felt the Weasley twins pull him out of the fire place. Harry was no where to be seen.  

“I told you he went to the wrong place”  

Mrs Weasley started panicking that they had lost a kid so they started looking for Harry. They eventually found him, Hagrid, Auroa Hermione and a girl who looked bored stood outside Gringotts. The little girl had curly hair like Hermione’s but her’s were blonde with brown roots like she had died her hair to look different to Hermione. She has hazel eyes that were filled with boredom. The little girl was wearing a red sunflower dress and black pumps that she didn’t look comfortable in at all. This must be Hermione’s little sister.   

 “We hoped you’d only gone one grate too far. …”  Mr Weasley said when they caught up to them.  “Where did you come out?” Ron asked. “Knockturn Alley,” said Hagrid grimly. “Excellent!” said Fred and George together. 
“We’ve never been allowed in,” said Ron enviously. “I should ruddy well think not,” growled Hagrid. Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other. “Oh, Harry — oh, my dear — you could have been anywhere —” Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping off the soot Hagrid hadn’t managed to beat away. Mr. Weasley took Harry’s glasses, gave them a tap of his wand, and returned them, good as new.  “Well, gotta be off,” said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs. Weasley (“Knockturn Alley! If you hadn’t found him, Hagrid!”). “See yer at Hogwarts!” And he strode away, head and shoulders taller than anyone else in the packed street. 

“This is my sister, Lisa. Lisa is starting Hogwarts this year like Ginny. Lisa say hi” Hermione said as they turned turned to go into Gringotts. Lisa just waved Hi, not saying anything. So Harry changed the subject.  “Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes? Malfoy and his father.” Harry asked Ron, Aurora, Jacob and Hermione as they climbed the Gringotts steps. Jacob smiled slightly. Draco was in town, he might be able to spend some time with him away from the Weasleys.  “Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?” said Mr. Weasley sharply behind them. “No, he was selling —” Harry answered. Jacob’s smile dropped. Of course they were going to be angry about him being here.  “So he’s worried, I’d love to get Lucius Malfoy for something. …”” said Mr. Weasley with grim satisfaction. “You be careful, Arthur, That family’s trouble. Don’t go biting off more than you can chew —” 
” said Mrs. Weasley sharply as they were bowed into the bank by a goblin at the door.  “If you have forgotten, Draco is my friend and I don’t like what you are saying. Do you have proof?” Jacob said glaring at everyone. Mr Weasley was about to reply when he noticed the Granger parents at the counter for their daughters.  

 “But you’re Muggles!  We must have a drink! What’s that you’ve got there? Oh, you’re changing Muggle money. Molly, look!”   

“Meet you back here,” Ron said to Hermione as the Weasleys, Aurora, Jacob and Harry were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin. The vaults were reached by means of small, goblindriven carts that sped along minature train tracks through the bank’s underground tunnels. The Weasley vault was horrible. There was a very small pile of silver Sickles inside, and just one gold Galleon. Mrs. Weasley felt right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. The potter vault was filled with money that Harry tried to stop the Weasleys looking at as they both filled a leather bag. Aurora did the same when she arrived at the Tonk’s vault. Jacob didn’t care.   

Back outside on the marble steps, they all separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were going to a secondhand robe shop. Mr. Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers off to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink. “Hermione, take your sister with her. Make sure she gets the books on the list. Lisa, behave” Mrs Granger said, before following Mr Weasley. Lisa grumbled something none of them could understand.  “We’ll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your schoolbooks,” said Mrs. Weasley, setting off with Ginny. “And not one step down Knockturn Alley!” she shouted at the twins’ retreating backs.  

“Lisa, what does your list say you need?”    

“I don’t bloody know. Do I? You know I can’t read it”   

“You need to try. Nearly everything in the wizarding world is written like that and you have to use a quill at hogwarts as well”   

“No thanks. I’m sneaking a pen in”   

Harry, Ron, Aurora, Jacob, Lisa and Hermione strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. The bag of gold, silver, and bronze jangling cheerfully in Harry’s pocket was clamoring to be spent, so he bought 6 large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams, which they slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron gazed longingly at a full set of Chudley Cannon robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch Supplies until Hermione dragged them off to buy ink and parchment next door, where Hermione and Lisa got in another argument about Quills and stuff. In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they met Fred, George, and Lee Jordan, who were stocking up on Dr. Filibuster’s Fabulous WetStart, No-Heat Fireworks, and in a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains. They found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called Prefects Who Gained Power.  

“A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers, That sounds fascinating. …”  

“Go away,”   

“ ’Course, he’s very ambitious, Percy, he’s got it all planned out. … He wants to be Minister of Magic …”   

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the doors, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows:  

GILDEROY LOCKHART  

Will be signing copies of his autobiography MAGICAL ME  

Today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.  

“We can actually meet him!” Hermione squealed. “I mean, he’s written almost the whole booklist!”  The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs. Weasley’s age. A harassed-looking wizard stood at the door, saying, “Calmly, please, ladies. … Don’t push, there … mind the books, now. …” Aurora, Lisa, Jacob, Harry, Ron, and Hermione squeezed inside. A long line wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 and sneaked up the line to where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr. And Mrs. Granger. “Oh, there you are, good, We’ll be able to see him in a minute. …” said Mrs. Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. Hermione’s smile widened. Evan Jacob felt like he needed to clean up a bit.   

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forgetme-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard’s hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair. A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. “Out of the way, there, This is for the Daily Prophet —” he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot.  “Big deal,” said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it. Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron — and then he saw Harry. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted,   

“It can’t be Harry Potter?”  

The crowd parted, whispering excitedly; Lockhart dived forward. At first, he grabbed Jacob but then paused with confusion when he noticed the red hair. Jacob yanked his arm back. “I’m Jacob Potter. You want my famous twin. He’s harry potter” He argued. Lockhart seemed to think for a moment before seizing Harry’s arm, and pulled him to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Lockhart shook Harry hand for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys. Jacob sighed and walked off to go find his books for the year. He really hated this.   

“Nice big smile, Harry, Together, you and I are worth the front page. Ladies and gentlemen,What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to present him, and his lovely twin, now, free of charge —”   

The crowd applauded again and Jacob sigjed.   

“He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”  

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart, two pf each book. One for him and one for Jacob. Jacob watched with furry as Harry gave all their books to the Weasleys. “hey they were mine as well! You can’t just-“ He cut himself off when he saw Draco and smiled.  

 “Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter? Famous Harry Potter, Can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page. At least Jacob had the decency to not make a scene”   

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.  “Leave him alone. Harry did nothing to you!” Aurora said, loudly. “Potter, you’ve got yourself  two girlfriends! A Weasley and a blood traitor!” drawled Malfoy. Ginny and Aurora went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both clutching stacks of Lockhart’s books. “Oh, it’s you, Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?” said Ron, looking at Malfoy as if he were something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe.  “Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley,” retorted Malfoy. “I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those.” Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron, too, and started toward Malfoy, but Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. Jacob laughed slightly and walked over. “Hey Draco. Sorry I didn’t answer any letters. A freaky creature stopped us getting letters”  Jacob said as he stopped next to him. “we will talk about that creature later” Draco said, quietly as Mr Weasley came over with Fred and George. Mr Malfoy, Draco’s dad, put’s his hand on Draco’s shoulder.   

“Ron! What are you doing? It’s too crowded in here, let’s go outside.”  

“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley.”  

“Lucius,”   

“Busy time at the Ministry, I hear, All those raids … I hope they’re paying you overtime?”  

Lucius reached into Ginny’s cauldron and extracted, from amid the glossy Lockhart books, a very old, very battered copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration.  

“Obviously not, Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”  

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,”   

“Clearly, The company you keep, Weasley … and I thought your family could sink no lower —”  

Lucius was looking at Mr and Mrs Granger (who were trying to get Lisa to read her book list and find the correct books) when he said that last part. There was a thud of metal as Ginny’s cauldron went flying; Mr. Weasley had thrown himself at Lucius, knocking him backward into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, “Get him, Dad!” from Fred or George; Mrs. Weasley was shrieking, “No, Arthur, no!”; the crowd stampeded backward, knocking more shelves over;   

“Gentlemen, please — please! Break it up, there, gents, break it up —”  

Hagrid was wading toward them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr. Weasley and Lucius apart. Mr. Weasley had a cut lip and Lucius had been hit in the eye by an Encyclopedia of Toadstools. He was still holding Ginny’s old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice. “Here, girl — take your book — it’s the best your father can give you —” Pulling himself out of Hagrid’s grip, he turned to his son and Jacob. “Draco let’s go. Jacob, you may come and stay the rest of the summer with us if you like. I’ll send the house elf to get your things” Lucius then left the shop with Jacob and Draco on his heals.   

“Jacob Potter, sir! What is Harry Potter’s twin doing here,”   

“Dobby is your house elf, Draco! He’s the one who stole our letters and presents and angered Uncle Vernon so much he bars on our window”   

Jacob ended up spending the last two weeks of summer with Draco and his family. He appsolutly loved their way of life.  He loved being in a manor. He loved not having to clean or do chores. He loved the rich meals they have. He loved having a room and bed to himself.  He finally got to open his presents off Draco and Aurora. Draco even taught Jacob how to play quidditch.   

“Being a beater is actually fun”   

“You should try out for the team like me. I’m going to be a seeker”   

“maybe another year, Draco. I have only just learnt how to play quidditch”   

Finally 1 st September 1992 arrived. Draco and Jacob didn’t need to be up that early as Narcissa, Draco’s mum, was going to apparate them to kings Cross station. So they got up around 8:30am, had breakfast, got ready to go and left at 10:30am. Narcissa didn’t stay with them long at the station as she had a tea party to get to. She quickly said goodbye and left, making Draco and Jacob find their own way to platform 9 ¾.  But when they got to the entrance to the platform, they were stopped by a sea of redheads and Harry. And two of the members weren’t so happy to see that Jacob arrived with Draco. So without the notice of the adults and the rest of the family, Harry and Ron turned on Jacob.   

“What are you doing with him, Jacob!”   

“Draco’s my friend, Harry. Like Ron is yours. I’m allowed to stay with my friend like you stayed with yours.”   

“but he’s a...”   

“He’s a what? A Slytherin? A dark person because of his house and the rumours? If you haven’t noticed I'm also a Slytherin so I guess my soul is dark to?”   

“That’s not what I meant, Jay”   

“Yes it is. Come on Draco. We don’t want to be late for the train”  

With that Jacob and Draco shoved past Ron and Harry and went through the entrance. Jacob expected Harry to come through straight after him but as soon as he stepped through the wall, it seemed to become solid before Harry and Ron could get through. They were stuck in the Muggle world. Jacob didn’t wait for him to try and get through, no he used this opportunity to sit with Draco and the other Slytherins instead of sitting with Hermione, Aurora, Ginny and Lisa.  

“Draco, i already said No”  

“but you are an amazing beater”   

Soon enough the train arrived at Hogsmeade. The Slytherin’s quickly got up and followed the rest of the school towards the carriages carried by invisible horses. Draco, Jacob, Blaze Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle all ended up being able to get a carriage together that rode all the way up to hogwarts. Once they arrived at the castle, the group climbed out and made their way to the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, chatting about random things. However, Jacob was shocked that Harry and Ron still hadn’t arrived by the time the first years walked in and the sorting began.   

“ Oh, you may not think I‘m pretty,  

But don’t judge on what you see,  

I’ll eat myself if you cunafraidl  

A smarter hat than me  

You can keep your bowlers black,  

Your top hats sleek and tall,  

For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  

And I can cap them all.  

There’s nothing hidden in your head  

The Sorting Hat can’t see,  

So, try me on and I will tell you  

Where you ought to be.  

You might belong in Gryffindor,  

Where dwell the brave at heart,  

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  

Set Gryffindors apart;  

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  

Where they are just and loyal,  

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  

And unafraid of toil;  

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  

If you’ve a ready mind,  

Where those of wit and learning,  

Will always find their kind;  

Or perhaps in Slytherin  

You’ll make your real friends  

Those cunning folk use any means  

To achieve their ends  

So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  

And don’t get in a flap!  

You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  

For I’m a Thinking Cap!”

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again. Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” she said. And with that the sorting began. Jacob didn’t really concentrate on the sorting, he was too busy trying to work out where Harry might end up. So he only noticed a few names.  

 “Creevey, Colin!”   

“Gryffindor”  

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

“Granger, Lisa”   

“Slytherin”  

.  

.  

.  

.  

“Lovegood, Luna”   

“Ravenclaw!”   

.  

.  

“McKinnon-Meadows, Bonnie”   

That name filled the hall with gasps. Everyone thought Bonnie had died when her mama, Marlene McKinnon, died and that was part of the reason her mum, Dorcas Meadows, attacked Voldemort and got herself killed.   

“Hufflepuff!”  

 “O'Mahoney, Vevila"

 "Ravenclaw"

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

.  

“Rivers, Angel”   

“Hufflepuff”   

.  

.  

.  

.  

“Weasley, Ginevra”   

“Gryffindor”   

Finally the sorting ended and Dumbledore stood up to gave his speech as McGonagall packed the sorting things away.   

“Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”   

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. With that food appeared. When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling as clean as before. A moment later the deserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavour you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate éclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding. Jacob ate some rice pudding. At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.  

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.  And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!”  

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words. “Everyone pick your favourite tune,” said Dumbledore, “and off we go!” Students around Jacob suddenly started singing. Well, if you can call what they did singing. Jacob refused to join in.   

“ Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  

Teach us something please,  

Whether we be old and bald  

Or young with scabby knees,  

Our heads could do with filling  

With some interesting stuff,  

For now, they’re bare and full of air,  

Dead flied and bits of fluff,  

So, teach us things worth knowing.  

Bring back what we’ve forgot,  

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,  

And learn until our brains all rot.”  

Everybody finished the song at different times. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. “Ah, music,” he said, wiping his eyes. “A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!”. The gang quickly got up and made their way to common room and up to the dorms before the prefect could fill the space with first years. At least, Draco and Jacob were sharing a room together again, just the two of them.   

“STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY’D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON’T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE —— LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN’T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD BOTH HAVE DIED —— ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED — YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME.”  

The next morning, Jacob and Draco were shocked to find Ron and Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table with Hermione and Aurora. Jacob was planning to ask them how on the way to class but a Howler from Mrs Weasley answered all the questions he had. They had stolen the flying car to get to hogwarts. Draco had a lot of jokes to say after he heard the Howler. However, he didn’t have much time to say them as the day became a very busy and tiresome.   

First they had History of Magic with the Ravenclaws which was horrible and boring. They really needed to fire professor bins and get an alive teacher. Ghosts aren’t good teachers. Most people just slept through that class or used it to catch up on homework and then study history in their own time. This wasn’t right in Jacob’s mind.   

Next they had Transfiguration with the Gryffindor’s. Professor McGonagall’s classes were always hard work, but today was especially difficult. They had to turn a beetle into a button using everything they remembered from last year. Trying to remember what you had mearnt when you weren’t allowed to touch your study books all summer is hard but Jacob did his best.  Ron was having far worse problems than everyone in the class. His wand seemed to be broken with only spellotape keeping it together. It kept crackling and sparking at odd moments, and every time Ron tried to transfigure his beetle it engulfed him in thick gray smoke that smelled of rotten eggs. Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask for a new one. Professor McGonagall wasn’t pleased.  

Lunch is when Draco finally got to do something. After finishing his food early, Jacob went to go find his brother in the court yard to catch up and Draco followed him. When they found Harry, he was taking a picture with Colin Creevey who was asking him to sign the photo. This is all the info Draco needed to fuel his next argument.   

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” Draco said with a smirk. Jacob shook his head and just sat down next Harry. Draco stayed stood behind Colin.  “Everyone line up! Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!” Malfoy roared to the crowd.  “No, I’m not, Shut up, Malfoy.” said Harry angrily, his fists clenching.  “You’re just jealous,” piped up Colin. “Jealous?” said Malfoy, who didn’t need to shout anymore: Half the courtyard was listening in. “Of what? I don’t want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.” Jacob laughed trying to keep a laugh in.  “Eat slugs, Malfoy,” said Ron angrily. Jacob glared at him. “Be careful, Weasley,” sneered Malfoy. “You don’t want to start any trouble or your mummy’ll have to come and take you away from school.” He put on a shrill, piercing voice. “If you put another toe out of line —” A knot of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly at this.  “Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter,” smirked Malfoy. “It’d be worth more than his family’s whole house —” Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione shut Voyages with Vampires with a snap and whispered, “Look out!”  

“What’s all this, what’s all this? Who’s giving out signed photos?”  

Gilderoy Lockhart was striding toward them, his turquoise robes swirling behind him. Jacob quickly moved out of the way, so he wouldn’t be sat on as Lockhart sat where he was and wrapped his arms around Harry.  “Shouldn’t have asked! We meet again, Harry!”. Jacob, not wanting to be caught by Lockhart, quickly left with Draco.   

But, much to everyone’s delight, the next classes ended up with D.A.D.A with Gryffindors with Lockhart as the teacher. This was going to be a long lesson. When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He reached forward, picked up Neville Longbottom’s copy of Travels with Trolls, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.  

“Me, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award — but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her! I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books — well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about — just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in —”  

When he had handed out the test papers he returned to the front of the class and said, “You have thirty minutes — start — now!” Jacob looked down at his paper and read:  

What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?  

What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?  

What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?  

On and on it went, over three sides of paper, right down to:  

54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?  

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers and rifled through them in front of the class.  

“Tut, tut — hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in Year with the Yeti. And a few of you need to read Wanderings with Werewolves more carefully — I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday gift would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples — though I wouldn’t say no to a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky … but Miss Hermione Granger knew my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions — good girl! In fact full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?”  

Hermione raised a trembling hand.  

“Excellent! Quite excellent! Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so — to business —”  

He bent down behind his desk and lifted a large, covered cage onto it.  

“Now — be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm.”  

Lockhart placed a cage covered with blanket on the front desk.  

“I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them.”  

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.  

“Yes, Freshly caught Cornish pixies.”  

Seamus Finnigan couldn’t control himself. He let out a snort of laughter that even Lockhart couldn’t mistake for a scream of terror. “Yes?” He smiled at Seamus. “Well, they’re not — they’re not very — dangerous, are they?” Seamus choked. “Don’t be so sure!” said Lockhart, waggling a finger annoyingly at Seamus. “Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!” The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them. “Right, then,” Lockhart said loudly. “Let’s see what you make of them!”   

And he opened the cage.  

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the waste basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.  

“Come on now — round them up, round them up, they’re only pixies. Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”  

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way. 
The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, Aurora, Jacob and Hermione, who were almost at the door, and said, “Well, I’ll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage.”. Jacob rolled his eyes, said “fuck that” And rushed after Draco before Lockhart.  

“That guy is so dumb”   

“I know Draco but he is still hot”   

“What?”  

“ Maybe I just like blondes. Everyone guy is have had a crush on has been blonde”   

“you like guys?”  

“Yeah I’m gay, Draco. I’ve known since I was 7. It’s not a problem is it?”   

“No definitely not a problem”  

The next few days flew buy quickly. Jacob just went to class after class. Sometimes he hung ou this Harry, sometimes he hung out with draco but all the time, he was trying to get over Lockhart. Though Jacob hated that when he was with Harry, Lockhart and colin came over 6 times a day each trying to get Harry’s attention. It was horrble. But the first weekend of the school hell made all hell break through. Draco had woken up early for quiddich pratice on saturday morning and had ended up waking up Jacob as well. Unable to fall back to sleep, Jacob went with him to watch him practice, dispite not understanding how Draco got on the team when no try-outs had been helped. What Jacob didn’t expect though was for the gryffindor quiddich team to be on the quiddich pitch as well.   

“I don’t believe it!” Wood, the Gryffindor captian hissed in outrage from where all Gryffindor quiddich player was. “I booked the field for today! We’ll see about this!” Wood shot toward the ground, landing rather harder than he meant to in his anger, staggering slightly as he dismounted. Harry, Fred, and George followed. Jacob smirked and leaned against the wall of the quiddich stadium.  “Flint!” Wood bellowed at the Slytherin Captain. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!” Marcus Flint was even larger than Wood. He had a look of trollish cunning on his face as he replied, “Plenty of room for all of us, Wood.” Angelina, Alicia, and Katie had come over, too. There were no girls on the Slytherin team, who stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Gryffindors, leering to a man.   

“But I booked the field! I booked it!”  

“Ah, But I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. ‘ I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’ ”  

“You’ve got a new Seeker? Where?”  

Draco smirked at Jacob before walking to the front of the Quiddich team. He was the knew seeker.  “Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” said Fred. “Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” said Flint as the whole Slytherin team smiled still more broadly. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.” All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven highly polished, brand-new handles and seven sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One gleamed under the Gryffindors’ noses in the early morning sun. “Very latest model. Only came out last month,” said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. “I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps” — he smiled nastily at Fred and George, who were both clutching Cleansweep Fives — “sweeps the board with them.” None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly his cold eyes were reduced to slits.   

“Oh, look, A field invasion.”  

Ron, Aurora and Hermione were crossing the grass to see what was going on. Jacob rolled his eys but didn’t move from leaning on the wall.  “What’s happening?” Ron asked Harry. “Why aren’t you playing? And what’s they doing here?” He was looking at Malfoy, taking in his Slytherin Quidditch robes, and Jacob “I’m the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,” said Malfoy, smugly. “Everyone’s just been admiring the brooms my father’s bought our team.” Ron gaped, openmouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him. “Good, aren’t they?” said Malfoy smoothly. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.” The Slytherin team howled with laughter. “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,” said Hermione sharply. “They got in on pure talent.” The smug look on Malfoy’s face flickered. Jacob had a hold a laugh. That was a good comment.  

“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,”   

Multiple things suddenly happen at once. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Alicia shrieked, “How dare you!”, Hermione had to hold Aurora back from attacking Draco “You sad little strawberry cupcake! How dare you say that!” and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand, yelling, “You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy!” and pointed it furiously under Flint’s arm at Malfoy’s face. A loud bang echoed around the stadium and a jet of green light shot out of the wrong end of Ron’s wand, hitting him in the stomach and sending him reeling backward onto the grass. “Ron! Ron! Are you all right?” squealed Hermione. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead he gave an almighty belch and several slugs dribbled out of his mouth onto his lap. The Slytherin team were paralyzed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. Jacob was covering his mouth not to laugh. The Gryffindors were gathered around Ron, who kept belching large, glistening slugs. Nobody seemed to want to touch him.  

“We’d better get him to Hagrid’s, it’s nearest,” said Harry to Hermione, who nodded bravely. Hermione, still holding Auora back, and Ron pulled ron up by the arms. “What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can’t you?” Colin had run down from his seat and was now dancing alongside them as they left the field. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front. “Oooh, Can you hold him still, Harry?” said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera.  “Get out of the way, Colin!” said Harry angrily.  He, Auora and Hermione supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds toward the edge of the forest.  

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“Jacob, do you know what that world means?”  

“yeah, Harry. Of course I do. That’s several books on the matter”  

“THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL HANGING OUT WITH HIM?!”  

“Because it’s just a nickname, Harry. I don’t know why everyone go so worked up. The slyterin’s call Lisa it all the time”  

“what!”  

“Anyway, How’s the Weasl? How was your dententions?”  

“I can’t believe you”  

“By the way, did you hear a voice last night?”  

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Before anyone knew it, October had arrived and with it, brought horrble cold weather. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, was kept busy by a sudden spate of colds among the staff and students. Her Pepperup Potion worked instantly, though it left the drinker smoking at the ears for several hours afterward. Ginny Weasley, who had been looking pale, was bullied into taking some by Percy. The steam pouring from under her vivid hair gave the impression that her whole head was on fire. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered on the castle windows for days on end; the lake rose, the flower beds turned into muddy streams, and Hagrid’s pumpkins swelled to the size of garden sheds. Jacob’s fellow slytherin’s had finally stopped bulling Lisa Granger because she had proved she belongs in Slytherin, though she keeps ending up in dentention.   

“I’m not going to nearly headless Nick’s death day party with you, Harry.”  

“why not?”  

“oh let me see. 1) its full of ghosts. 2) I am not missing the halloween feast, for a party with no food. 3) I am not being stuck in a room where you, Granger, Weasley and Tonks being the only living people. 4) ITS HALLOWEEN. And if you haven’t realised, bad things always happen to you on halloween”  

“Nick said two hufflepuffs called Bonnie and Angel are going so we aren’t the only livings. Apparently Bonnie is bringing snacks from the kitchen for us so they’ll be food”  

“I’m not going, Harry.”  

By the time Halloween arrived, Harry was regretting his rash promise to go to the deathday party, Jacob found it funny and wouldn’t stop teasing him about it. The rest of the school was happily anticipating their Halloween feast; the Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats, Hagrid’s vast pumpkins had been carved into lanterns large enough for three men to sit in, and there were rumors that Dumbledore had booked a troupe of dancing skeletons for the entertainment. At 7pm on Halloween night, Jacob went down the Halloween first but the feast was pretty boring compared to what happened afterword’s.   

Everyone came out of the great hall, after the feast, and started heading towards their common rooms but that’s when they all spotted it. Aurora, Hermione, Ron and Hermione stood around a hanging Mrs. Norris (the caretaker’s cat). She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring. On the wall next to them was words written in blood.   

“ THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.”  

Everyone froze staring at the scene in front of them. Draco pushed his way to the front of the crowd, pulling Jacob with him. “Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” He said, grinning.  “What’s going on here? What’s going on?” Attracted no doubt by Draco’s shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror. “My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?” he shrieked. And his popping eyes fell on Harry. “You!” he screeched. “You! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll —”  

“Argus!”  

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other teachers. In seconds, he had swept past Harry, Aurora, Ron, and Hermione and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket. “Come with me, Argus,” he said to Filch. “You, too, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, Miss Tonks, Miss Granger.” Lockhart stepped forward eagerly. “My office is nearest, Headmaster — just upstairs — please feel free —” He said. “Thank you, Gilderoy,” said Dumbledore. The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. “Come on, Draco, let’s go” Jacob said before dragging Draco back to the Slytherin common room.  

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone’s minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Mrs. Skower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone. When Filch wasn’t guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like “breathing loudly” and “looking happy.” Ginny Weasley seemed very disturbed by Mrs. Norris’s fate. The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Everyone was determined to find out what the chamber was and why Mrs Noris was petrified but it wasn’t until history of Magic when they finally got information on the chamber.   

“Let me see … the Chamber of Secrets… You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago — the precise date is uncertain — by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution. For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school. Reliable historical sources tell us this much, But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic. The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course, Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, by the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.”  

“Sir — what exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within’ the Chamber?”  

“That is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control,I tell you, the thing does not exist, There is no Chamber and no monster.”  

“But, sir, if the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin’s true heir, no one else would be able to find it, would they?”  

“Nonsense, if a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven’t found the thing —”  

“But, Professor, you’d probably have to use Dark Magic to open it —”  

“Just because a wizard doesn’t use Dark Magic doesn’t mean he can’t. I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore —”  

“But maybe you’ve got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn’t —”   

“That will do, It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to history, to solid, believable, verifiable fact!”  

 After the truth about the chamber of secrets where revealed, everyone tried to find who the heir of Slytherin was. Everyone had their ideas and theory’s. Many people thought Harry was the heir because the caretaker accused him. Many people were blaming children of past death eaters. Many people were blaming Draco because of the whole Mudblood thing. (Jacob and Harry had gotten in a fight over that). Jacob didn’t really care and just carried on working. Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him. Jacob and Draco found it hilarious watching Harry do this.   

“I’m not making you a Polyjuice Reasonable, Harry. Why do you want one anyway? We aren’t meant to learn about them yet”   

“No reason, Jay. But please”   

“I’m not getting in trouble because you have a stupid Gryffindor idea”  

Mid November brought along the first quidditch match of the season, Slytherin vs Gryffindor.  Draco wouldn’t shut up about the match and wouldn’t let Jacob forgot about it. So it’s no surprise that Jacob was forced to be the first one sat on the Slytherin benches waiting for the match to start. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. As the Gryffindors walked out onto the field, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Jacob just stayed quiet. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary.  

 “On my whistle, Three … two … one …”   

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. But as Soon as the match started a rogue Bludger started following Harry around, nothing made it change cause. George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again. Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry’s head. Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the field. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course but it pelted after Harry once more.   

“Has someone cursed  the Bludger to chase Harry?”   

It had started to rain and the Slytherin’s were winning with 6p to 0. The Slytherins’ superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it. Suddenly, Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out, calling for a time out. The two groups formed a huddle to talk about the match.   

“What is happening down there?”  

10 minutes later, the match restarted.  The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch’s whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and the Bludger followed him. and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. The crowd was laughing at him but Harry was trying to avoid the rogue Bludger that was heavy and couldn’t change direction as fast as Harry.   

“and now Draco is teasing him”  

“Training for the ballet, Potter?” Jacob heard Draco yell as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him. Harry then froze staring at Draco. He hung in midair too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Harry slid sideways on his raindrenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side — the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time aiming at his face — Harry swerved out of the way. Harry zoomed towards Draco, it looked like he was going to attack him. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch....  

“HARRY!”   

Harry fell to the floor with a splattering thud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle but he opened his other hand to show the Snitch. “Aha,” he said vaguely. “We’ve won.” And he fainted. Filled with panic about his brother, Jacob got up and rushed down to the field. By the time he got to Harry, Aurora, Hermione, Ron, Colin Creevey, the whole Gryffindor Quiddich team and Professor Lockhart was around him. Jacob arrived just as Harry was waking back up. “Oh, no, not you,” Harry moaned upon seeing Lockhart. “Doesn’t know what he’s saying, Not to worry, Harry. I’m about to fix your arm.” said Lockhart loudly.   “No!” said Harry. “I’ll keep it like this, thanks. …” He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible.  Colin tries to take a photo. “I don’t want a photo of this, Colin,” he said loudly. “Lie back, Harry, It’s a simple charm I’ve used countless times —” said Lockhart soothingly.  “Why can’t I just go to the hospital wing?” said Harry through clenched teeth. “He should really, Professor,” said a muddy Wood, who couldn’t help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. “Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I’d say —” George and Fred was still wrestling the rogue bludger into the box.  “Stand back,” said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves. “No — don’t —” said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry’s arm. Everyone gasped in Horror at the sight of Harry’s arm.   “Ah,” said Lockhart. “Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That’s the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing — ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Tonks, Miss Granger, would you escort him? — and Madam Pomfrey will be able to — er — tidy you up a bit.” The tree mentioned quickly picked Harry up and took him to the hospital wing.   

“YOU REMOVED HIS BONES! ARE YOU THAT STUPID LOCKHART!”   

“Detention, Mr Potter”   

The next morning, everyone woke up to the horrible news that was circulating the castle. Colin Creevey had been Petrified. This filled people with fright. No one knew who was going to get caught next. Jacob didn’t know how to feel about the chamber and the students getting petrified. On one hand it’s bad but on the other Draco was saying it’s what they deserved. So Jacob didn’t know what to think or feel.  The air of hogwarts was suddenly thick with rumour and suspicion. The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured forth alone. 
Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin Creevey in Charms, was distraught, but Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up. They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues. They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares. Meanwhile, hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school. Neville Longbottom bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tai. He is almost a squib so he thought he’d be attached next. 

 In the first week of December, Professor Snape came around as usual, collecting names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas. Seeing Jacob put his name down to stay, Draco decided to do the same. Jacob was glad to not spend Christmas alone again. Though Jacob found out through Lisa that Hermione, Ron, Aurora and Harry was staying dispite Lisa, herself, spending Christmas with a girl called Luna Lovegood.  

 In the second week of December, a notice was put up on the common room notice board. The school was starting a Dueling Club and the first session would be tonight. Draco and Jacob thought it was a good idea so at eight o’clock that evening they hurried back to the Great Hall. The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited. Gilderoy Lockhart walked onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black. Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, 

“Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape, He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry — you’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!” 

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.  

“As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position, On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course. One — two — three —”  

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Snape cried: “Expelliarmus!” There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet: He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor. Draco and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Jacob laughed slightly.  Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.  

“Well, there you have it! That was a Disarming Charm — as you see, I’ve lost my wand — ah, thank you, Miss Brown — yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy — however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see … Enough demonstrating! I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me —”  

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry and Ron first. “Time to split up the dream team, I think,” he sneered. “Weasley, you can partner Finnigan. Potter —”.Harry moved automatically toward Hermione. “I don’t think so,” said Snape, smiling coldly. “Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let’s see what you make of the famous Potter. And you, Miss Granger — you can partner Miss Bulstrode. Miss Tonks, you can go against the other Potter twin”  Jacob, a slytherin girl and Draco quickly came over, Draco was smirking for some reason.   

“Face your partners! And bow!”  

Jacob and Aurora bow with each other.   

“Wands at the ready! When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents — only to disarm them — we don’t want any accidents — one … two … three —”  

Jacob seemed to be the only slytherin who actually cast the Disarming spell, he did win though. The other Slytherins were attacking their partners with other spells and were being attacked back by other spells.  “I said disarm only! Stop! Stop!” screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge. “Finite Incantatem!” Snape shouted.  A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; Ron was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever his broken wand had done; but Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving; Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain; both their wands lay forgotten on the floor.   

“Dear, dear, Up you go, Macmillan. … Careful there, Miss Fawcett. … Pinch it hard, it’ll stop bleeding in a second, Boot — I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly spells, Let’s have a volunteer pair — Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you —”  

“A bad idea, Professor Lockhart, Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox. How about Malfoy and Potter?” said Snape with a twisted smile.  

“Excellent idea!”   

 Lockhart gestured Harry and Draco into the middle of the hall as the crowd backed away to give them room.  

“Now, Harry, When Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”  

Lockhart raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops — my wand is a little overexcited —” Snape moved closer to Draco, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Draco smirked, too.   

“Three — two — one — go!”   

Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, “Serpensortia!” The end of his wand exploded and a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor. Jacob sighed watching.  “Don’t move, Potter, I’ll get rid of it. …” said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. “Allow me!” shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang; the snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike. Jacob felt anger. The teachers shouldn’t let the students be in danger like this. Jacob and Harry made eye contact before both staring at the snake and shouting at the same time  

“Leave him alone!”   

And miraculously — inexplicably — the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes flipping between the potter twins. But Jacob knew something was wrong. Everyone was staring at them with fear and anger. “What do you think you’re playing at?” Justin shouted, and before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall. Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape, too, was looking at Harry and Jacob in an unexpected way: It was a shrewd and calculating look. Jacob was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering all around the walls. Suddenly, Aurora, Ron and Hermione was pulling the twins out of the room and into an empty classroom. There Ron pushed the two into a chair.   

“You’re Parselmouths. Why didn’t you tell us?” he asked. The twins looked at him gone out. “we are what?” said Harry. “Parselmouths! You can talk to snakes!” said Ron. “yeah, so what? This is only the second time we have done it. We accidentally set a boa constrictor on our cousin Dudley at the zoo once — long story — but it was telling us it had never seen Brazil and I sort of set it free without meaning to — that was before I knew I was a wizard —” Jacob answerd. “A boa constrictor told you it had never seen Brazil?” Aurora repeated faintly. “So? I bet loads of people here can do it.” said Harry. “Oh, no they can’t, It’s not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad.” said Ron. “What’s bad? What’s wrong with everyone? Listen, if we hadn’t told that snake not to attack Justin —” said Harry, starting to feel quite angry.   

“Oh, that’s what you said to it?”  

“What d’you mean? You were there — you heard us —”  

“I heard you speaking Parseltongue, Snake language. You could have been saying anything — no wonder Justin panicked, you  both sounded like you were egging the snake on or something — it was creepy, you know —”  

“we spoke a different language? But — I didn’t realize — how can we speak a language without knowing we can speak it?”  

Ron shook his head. Ron, Aurora and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Jacob rolled his eyes. “D’you want to tell me what’s wrong with stopping a massive snake biting off Justin’s head? What does it matter how I did it as long as Justin doesn’t have to join the Headless Hunt?” he said. “It matters,” said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice, “because being able to talk to snakes was what Salazar Slytherin was famous for. That’s why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent.” Harry’s mouth fell open. “Exactly, And now the whole school’s going to think you’re his great-great-great-great-grandsons or something —” said Ron. “But I’m not, we’re not,” said Harry. “You’ll find that hard to prove,” said Hermione. “He lived about a thousand years ago; for all we know, you could be.”  

The vibe towards the potter twins twisted the next day. Most people were terrfied of the twins, that they could speak to snakes, that they could be the heirs of Slytherin. People were cowering from them. People were running away from them in fear. But so many of the Slytherins were treating Jacob like he was royalty. They were waiting on him hand and foot and asking him who was next. He didn’t know how to feel about that. It didn’t help the heir of Slytherin rumours that Harry was the one to find Nearly Headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley petrified the next day.  All this attention was making Jacob glad that Christmas was soon but what happened on the last day of break made Jacob extra glad that Draco was staying so he didn’t have to spend Christmas alone.   

Lisa and Jacob conveniently ended up walking down a corridor alone, heading back to the Slytherin common room after dinner, when they were cornered by their siblings. Neither Jacob or Lisa were pleased to see them. “What do you want, Hermione?” Lisa snapped. Hermione had already bugged her once today that she was failing her exams. “me and Harry were wondering if you both would give us the Slytherin password for next week?” Hermione asked causing the two Slytherins to narrow their eyes at the Gryffindors. “and why would we do that?” Jacob asked. “because maybe we want to spend Christmas day with you. I gave you the gryffindor password for Christmas day last year” Harry said but this just made Jacob anger. “and if I remember. You forgot all about me. So why is this any different? I’m not giving you the password” Jacob snapped. “but Jacob....  Lisa?” Hermione tried.  “We aren't allowed to give passwords out. I thought you didn't like breaking rules, Hermione. Also you know I’m going to Luna’s for Christmas. I don’t know the Christmas password” Lisa said and with that the two Slytherins walked away.   

But that didn’t stop them Gryffindor plans. Jacob didn’t know what happened until afterwards. He just thought that him and Draco had had a normal conversation about finding the true heir of Slytherin with Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe on a random day in the Christmas holidays. But when they started changing, Jacob realised that they were Aurora, Harry and Ron in desgise. (Jacob later found out Hermione was in the hospital wing after going wrong with her potion). Jacob never told Draco the truth. But he did confront Harry all about it and the two ended up having a massive argument that lasted at least an hour.   

“I TOLD YOU ONCE AND I’LL TELL YOU AGAIN. DRACO ISN’T THE HEIR. HE ISN’T DOING THIS. YOU HAVE BROKEN SEVERAL RULES AND COULD GET YOURSELF EXPELLED FOR THIS. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?”  

“I have to find and stop the heir before anyone else get hurt”   

“But I told you Draco wasn’t the heir and you still did that. So you not trust me?”  

“no I don’t”   

Harry and Jacob avoided contact and talking to each other for weeks. They didn’t talk when students returned to Hogwarts after the Christmas break. They didn’t talk when Lisa Granger was petrified the day after she returned. They didn’t talk about Hermione being in the hospital wing. They didn’t talk when moaning Myrtle’s bathroom flooded that whole floor. They didn’t talk when Hermione was realised from the hospital wing in mid-February. They didn’t talk when Aurora tried to make them make up. They didn’t talk when the attacks paused. They didn’t talk when Draco attacked Harry and Revealed that Harry had a diary. They didn’t talk when all the 2nd years were told t9 pick their OWL subjects during the Easter holidays. Jacob chose Ancient Runes and Divination. They didn’t talk when Harry’s room was ransacked and the diary was stolen. They didn’t talk until............   

“Granger has been petrified?”   

“lay off it, Jacob. Everyone knows you don’t like her”   

“that may be true but I don’t like that students are being petrified and all the teachers are doing are making us move around in groups and have a curfew. There’s also that stupid voice we keep hearing”   

“So?”   

“I’m going to help you and your friends stop this”  

After Jacob agreed to help them, Harry caught him up on everything. He told him about who the diary belonged to and all about what happened 50 years ago with Hagrid. Jacob just smirked and told them “I always told you he was crazy”. The first thing Jacob, Harry, Aurora and Ron did after Hermione was petrified (and it was announced that Angel River had been found floating in the lake petrified) was to visit Hagrid and find out the truth.  Though they had to go in the middle of the night under the Invisibility Cloak.   

The journey through the dark and deserted castle corridors wasn’t enjoyable.  Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching the corridors in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Their Invisibility Cloak didn’t stop them making any noise, and there was a particularly tense moment when Ron stubbed his toe only yards from the spot where Snape stood standing guard. Thankfully, Snape sneezed at almost exactly the moment Ron swore. It was with relief that they reached the oak front doors and eased them open. It was a clear, starry night. They hurried toward the lit windows of Hagrid’s house and pulled off the cloak only when they were right outside his front door.  Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung it open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him. “Oh, What’re you four doin’ here?” he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them.  “What’s that for?” said Harry, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside. “Nothin’ — nothin’ — “ Hagrid muttered. “I’ve bin expectin’ — doesn’ matter — Sit down — I’ll make tea —” He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand. “Are you ok, Hagrid? Did you hear about Hermione?” Aurora asked.  “Oh, I heard, all righ’,” said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice. He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them all large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was a loud knock on the door. Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. Harry, Aurora, Jacob and Ron exchanged panic-stricken looks, then threw the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves and retreated into a corner. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.  

“Good evening, Hagrid.”  

It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second, very oddlooking man. The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression, and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler. “That’s Dad’s boss!” Ron breathed. “Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!” Jacob elbowed Ron hard to make him shut up. Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge. “Bad business, Hagrid, Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things’ve gone far enough. Ministry’s got to act.” said Fudge in rather clipped tones.  “I never, You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir —” said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore.  “I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge. “Look, Albus, Hagrid’s record’s against him. Ministry’s got to do something — the school governors have been in touch —” said Fudge, uncomfortably. “Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest,” said Dumbledore. “Look at it from my point of view, I’m under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn’t Hagrid, he’ll be back and no more said. But I’ve got to take him. Got to. Wouldn’t be doing my duty —” said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler.  “Take me? Take me where?” said Hagrid, who was trembling. “For a short stretch only, Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you’ll be let out with a full apology —” said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid’s eyes. “Not Azkaban?” croaked Hagrid.  

 Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door. Dumbledore answered it.  Jacob elbowed Harry as He let out an audible gasp. Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid’s hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl. 
“Already here, Fudge, Good, good …” he said approvingly. “What’re you doin’ here? Get outta my house!” said Hagrid furiously. “My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your — er — d’you call this a house? I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.” said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. “And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?” said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes. “Dreadful thing, Dumbledore, but the governors feel it’s time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension — you’ll find all twelve signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you’re losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Three more this afternoon, wasn’t it? At this rate, there’ll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school.” said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment,  “Oh, now, see here, Lucius, Dumbledore suspended — no, no — last thing we want just now —” said Fudge, looking alarmed.  “The appointment — or suspension — of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge, And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks —” said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. “See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can’t stop them, I mean to say, who can?” said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, “That remains to be seen,” said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. “But as all twelve of us have voted —” Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.  

“An’ how many did yeh have ter threaten an’ blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh”  

“Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid, I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won’t like it at all.”   

“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore!l Take him away, an’ the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance! There’ll be killin’ next!”  

“Calm yourself, Hagrid, If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside —” said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy. “But —” stuttered Fudge. “No!” growled Hagrid. Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy’s cold gray ones. “However,” said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, “you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.” For a second, Jacob was almost sure Dumbledore’s eyes flickered toward the corner where he, Harry, Aurora and Ron stood hidden. “Admirable sentiments,” said Malfoy, bowing. “We shall all miss your — er — highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any — ah — killins.” He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, “If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they’d have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That’d lead ’em right! That’s all I’m sayin’.” Fudge stared at him in amazement. “All right, I’m comin’,” said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, “An’ someone’ll need ter feed Fang while I’m away.”  

The door banged shut and Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. “We’re in trouble now,” he said hoarsely. “No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There’ll be an attack a day with him gone.” Jacob rolled his eyes at him. “like Dumbledore saved the day last year” he mumbled.  Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door. “Oh poor fang” Aurora said, going over to comfort him.   

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses. But with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn’t look right to anyone. It also didn’t help that the hospital wing had been closed to visitors. With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn’t look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.   

Jacob couldn’t stop thinking about Hagrid’s comment to follow the spiders but, dispite the easy instructions, it had turned out to be a hard task to complete as there seemed to be no spider’s left in the castle. Jacob reluctantly helped Harry, Ron and Aurora search every day for the spiders. They were hampered, of course, by the fact that they weren’t allowed to wander off on their own but had to move around the castle in a pack with their house mates. Jacob often got split up from harry to be with his house. Most of their fellow students seemed glad that they were being shepherded from class to class by teachers, but Jacob found it very irksome. One person, however, seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the atmosphere of terror and suspicion. Draco Malfoy was strutting around the school as though he had just been appointed Head Boy, dragging Jacob around with him. Though Draco didn’t reveal why he was so happy until the potions lesson about two weeks after Dumbledore and Hagrid had left.   

“I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore, I told you he thinks Dumbledore’s the worst headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won’t want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in. … Sir, Sir, why don’t you apply for the headmaster’s job?”  

“Now, now, Malfoy, Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he’ll be back with us soon enough.”  

“Yeah, right, I expect you’d have Father’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job — I’ll tell Father you’re the best teacher here, sir —”  

Snape smirked as he swept off around the dungeon, fortunately not spotting Seamus Finnigan, who was pretending to vomit into his cauldron. “I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now,” Malfoy went on. “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn’t one of the Grangers —” The bell rang at that moment, which was lucky; at Malfoy’s last words, Ron had leapt off his stool, and in the scramble to collect bags and books, his attempts to reach Malfoy went unnoticed. “Let me at him, I don’t care, I don’t need my wand, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands —” Ron growled as Harry and Dean hung onto his arms. “Hurry up, I’ve got to take you Gryffindors to Herbology and the Slytherin’s to History of magic,” barked Snape over the class’s heads, and off they marched.  

When the spiders were finally found and followed, Jacob wasn’t with them as Draco had caught him trying to sneak out of the common room at midnight and he was stopped. However he heard of everything from Harry, Aurora and a terrfied Ron. Apparently, they had found giant spiders who tried to eat them (only to be stopped by tne flying car that had gone wild after harry and Ron had lost it at the start of the year). Hagrid apparently had raised the oldest spider, Aragog, Aragog had admitted he was mistakenly believed to be the Monster but the Monster is another creature, an enemy to spiders, and such that he cannot even name it. Aragog had said je was blamed for killing a girl, but the girl died in a bathroom, a part of the Castle he was never in. Apparently, Hagrid kept him in a cupboard in the dungeon.   

“and I think Myrtle was the girl that was killed”   

“We need to go talk to her then”   

With tightened security, being able to sneak away to talk to Myrtle was near impossible. It also didn’t help that the teachers decoded that Harry, Ron and Aurora needed more protection than the other students, Jacob found it kind of funny and kind of stupud why he wasn’t getting the extra protection to. “it’s probably because of last year but i was there to so why aren’t I getting the extra protection ” Jacob had muttered only for Ron to say “Lisa is the only Slytherin to be petrified. You’re safe”. Though, as well as the stress of this, McGonagall made everything even more stressful by announcing that exams would take place next week. This was a shock to everyone. No one thought exams would take place when the school was on the edge of closing down.  

Three days before the first exam caused all the plans to be thrown out of the window though. The day started out amazing. It was announced that the Mandrake were ripe and were going to be given to the petrified students that night. Everyone was excited to have their friends back but that’s when things started going wrong. The group knew the whole mystery might be solved tomorrow without their help, but they weren’t about to pass up a chance to speak to Myrtle if it turned up — and the opportunity arrived when they were being led to class o by Gilderoy Lockhart.   

Lockhart, who had so often assured them that all danger had passed, only to be proved wrong right away, was now wholeheartedly convinced that it was hardly worth the trouble to see them safely down the corridors. His hair wasn’t as sleek as usual; It seemed he had been up most of the night, patrolling the fourth floor. “Mark my words,” he said, ushering them around a corner. “The first words out of those poor Petrified people’s mouths will be ‘It was Hagrid.’ Frankly, I’m astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these security measures are necessary.” He spoke. Harry and Jacob gave each other a look before smirking and nodding “I agree, sir,” said Harry, making Ron drop his books in surprise. “me to, Sir. Hagrid is obsessed with dangerous creatures. He is crazy” Eric replied. Aurora gave him the glare she gave every time he was mean about someone.  “Thank you, Harry and ..... the other potter” said Lockhart graciously while they waited for a long line of Hufflepuffs to pass. “I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…”. Ron and Aurora quickly seem to catch onto what the twins were doing. “That’s right, Why don’t you leave us here, sir, we’ve only got one more corridor to go — ” said Ron, catching on. “You know, Weasley, I think I will,” said Lockhart. “I really should go and prepare my next class” And he hurried off. “Prepare his class,” Ron sneered after him. “Gone to curl his hair, more like.” They let the rest of the class draw ahead of them, then darted down a side passage and hurried off toward Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. But just as they were congratulating each other on their brilliant scheme —  

“Potter! Potter! Weasley! Tonks! What are you doing?”  

 It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were We were going to — to go and see — ” Ron stammered. “we were going to see Hermione. We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor, and we thought we'd sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and not to worry —” Aurora said with a sad tone. Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at them and for a moment, Jacob thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, a tear glistening in her beady eye. “Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform your professor where you've gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.” Harry, Jacob, Aurora  and Ron walked away, hardly daring to believe that they'd avoided detention. As they turned the corner, they distinctly heard Professor McGonagall blow her nose. “That was amazing, Aurora.” said Ron fervently,  

They had no choice now but to go to the hospital wing and tell Madam Pomfrey that they had Professor McGonagall's permission to visit Hermione. Madam Pomfrey let them in, but reluctantly. “There's just no point talking to a Petrified person,” she said, and they had to admit she had a point when they'd taken their seats next to Hermione. Jacob had never once visited anyone in the hospital wing and he hated it, expesally now that the person they were visiting didn't have the faintest inkling that she had visitors, and that they might just as well tell her bedside cabinet not to worry for all the good it would do.   

“Wonder if she did see the attacker, though? Because if he sneaked up on them all, no one’ll ever know…” said Ron, looking sadly at Hermione's rigid face. Jacob and Harry weren’t listening though, no they were looking at Hermione’s right hand. “guys look. There’s something in her hand” Harry quickly said, making the others look. “Go on and get it out,” Ron whispered, shifting his chair so that he blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey's view. Jacob and Aurora quickly do the same. It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Harry was sure he was going to tear it. While Ron kept watch he tugged and twisted, and at last, after several tense minutes, the paper came free. It was a page torn from a very old library book. “Hermione ripping a page out of a book. That doesn’t sound like her” Ron mumbled. Harry smoothed it out eagerly and the others leaned close to read it, too.  

“Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken’s egg, hatched beneath a toad.”  

“wait what?”  

“shush Jacob, I’m trying to read”  

“Shouldn’t we be worried that Longbottom loses his toad all the time?”  

“Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.”  

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand that everyone recognized as Hermione’s:  

“ Pipes .”  

“The monster is a basilisk! That’s why we can hear the voice. We understand snakes!! And no one is dead because no one, other than nearly headless nick, looked directly at him and ghosts can’t die twice! Colin Creevey saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got Petrified. Justin… Justin must’ve seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick! Nick got the full blast of it, but he couldn’t die again. Lisa saw it through the reflection of the necklace she was found staring at.....… and Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them. Hermione had just realized the monster was a basilisk. I bet you anything she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror — and — ” Jacob whispered to the Gryffindor’s as if everything just clicked in his head. “And Mrs. Norris and that Angel Rivers girl? Neither of them are mugglebornd” Ron whispered eagerly. The group thought hard, picturing the scene on the night of Halloween. “The water…” Harry said slowly. “The flood from Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. I bet you Mrs. Norris only saw the reflection… and Rivers saw it in the killed”.  Everyone nodded slightly. “’…The crowing of the rooster… is fatal to it! ‘ Hagrid’s roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn’t want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened! ‘Spiders flee before it!‘ It all fits!” Jacob read aloud after taking the paper off of Harry.   

 “But how’s the basilisk been getting around the place? A giant snake… Someone would’ve seen…”  

 “Pipes, Pipes… Weasley, it’s been using the plumbing. Me and Harry have been hearing that voice inside the walls…”  

 “The entrance to the Chamber of Secrets! What if it’s a bathroom? What if it’s in — ”  

 “Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,”  

 They sat there, excitement coursing through them, hardly able to believe it. “This means,” said Harry, “we can’t be the only Parselmouths in the school. The Heir of Slytherin’s one, too. That’s how he’s been controlling the basilisk.” The other three nod “but what are we going to do to stop it?” Auora asked. “Should we go straight to McGonagall?” Ron asked. Harry quickly jumped up. “Let’s go to the staff room,” said Harry “She’ll be there in ten minutes. It’s nearly break.” They ran downstairs.  

Not wanting to be discovered hanging around in another corridor, they went straight into the deserted staff room. It was a large, panelled room full of dark, wooden chairs. Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Ron paced around it, too excited to sit down. But the bell to signal break never came. Instead, echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall’s voice, magically magnified.  

“ All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”  

The kids all looked at each other, scared that there had been another attack. But before Ron could suggest they go back to the dormitory, Harry spotted an ugly sort of wardrobe to his left, full of the teachers’ cloaks. “In here. Let’s hear what it’s all about. Then we can tell them what we’ve found out.” He told the other three. They hid themselves inside it, listening to the rumbling of hundreds of people moving overhead, and the staff room door banging open. From between the musty folds of the cloaks, Harry, Ron and Aurora hed the teachers filtering into the room. Jacob couldn’t see anything do he just listened to the different voices.  

 “It has happened, A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”  

“How can you be sure?”  

“The Heir of Slytherin, left another message. Right underneath the first one. ‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.”  

 “Who is it? Which student?”  

 “Ginny Weasley,”  

Ron slide silently down onto the wardrobe floor  

 “We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow, This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said…”  

 The staff room door banged open again and someone walked in.  

 “So sorry — dozed off — what have I missed?”  

  “Just the man, The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”  

 “That’s right, Gilderoy, Weren’t you saying just last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”  

 “I — well, I — ”  

 “Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?”  

 “D-did I? I don’t recall — ”  

 “I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested, Didn’t you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?”  

 “I — I really never — you may have misunderstood — ”  

 “We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy, Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last.”  

“V-very well, I’ll — I’ll be in my office, getting — getting ready.”  

 And he left the room.  

 “Right, that’s got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.”  

 The teachers rose and left, one by one. The group were forced to split up to go back to their common rooms. No afternoon ever lasted as long as that one, nor had Slytherin dungeon ever been so crowded, yet so quiet. The only people talking where those complaining about going home like Draco. Near sunset, Draco and the rest of the common room finally went to bed. Jacob was going to join them when he received a note from Harry.   

“ Meet us at moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. Lockhart’s a con artist. We need to save Ginny ourselves – Harry”  

“why are hot people like this” Jacob whispered before sneaking out of the Slytherin common room and making his way to moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He arrived just as Aurora, Lockhart, Harry and Ron arrived. Ron had to stop Jacob punching Lockhart in the face. When the entered the bathroom, they found Moaning Myrtle was sitting on the tank of the end toilet. “Oh, it’s you, What do you want this time?” she said when she saw Harry.  “To ask you how you died,” said Harry. Myrtle’s whole aspect changed at once. She looked as though she had never been asked such a flattering question.  

 “Ooooh, it was dreadful, It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny. A different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a boy speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then — I died.”  

 “How?”  

 “No idea, I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole-body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away… And then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”  

 “Where exactly did you see the eyes?”  

 “Somewhere there,”  

 Myrtle pointed vaguely toward the sink in front of her toilet. Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Ron hurried over to it. Lockhart was standing well back, a look of utter terror on his face. It looked like an ordinary sink. They examined every inch of it, inside and out, including the pipes below. And then Jacob saw it: Scratched on the side of one of the copper taps was a tiny snake. “That tap’s never worked,” said Myrtle brightly as he tried to turn it. “Harry, Jacob” said Ron. “Say something. Something in Parseltongue. You need to speak Parseltongue.” The only times Harry and Jacob has ever managed to speak Parseltongue were when they'd been faced with a real snake.  

 “Open up,”  

 Harry and Jacob looked at Ron and Aurora, who shook their heads. “English,” Ron said.   

 “ Open up,”  

At once the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; The sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into. “We are going down there right?” Jack  asked, not liking the answer that he knew would come. “yes we are” Aswered Harry. There was a pause. “Well, you hardly seem to need me,” said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile “I’ll just — ” He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron, Jacob, Aurora and Harry pointed their wands at him. “You can go first,” Ron snarled. White faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening. “Kids, what good will it do?”  Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe.  “I really don’t think — ”  Jacov gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. Harry followed quickly. He lowered himself slowly into the pipe, then let go. Jacob went next, then Aurora and finally Ron.  

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. Jacob could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Ron and Aurora, thudding slightly at the curves. And then, just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out, and he shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in. Lockhart was getting to his feet a little ways away, covered in slime and white as a ghost and Harry was stood next to him. Jacob quickly stopped and watched the other two appear.  

“This place is disgusting”  

  “We must be miles under the school,”  

“Under the lake, probably,”  

 All four of them turned to stare into the darkness ahead. “Lumos!” Harry, Jacob and Aurora muttered to their wands and they lit again. “C’mon,” Harry said and off they went, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor. The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wandlight. “Remember,” Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, “any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…” But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as Ron stepped on what turned out to be a rat’s skull. Jacob lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones. Trying very hard not to imagine what Ginny might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.  

 “Guy’s — there’s something up there — ”  

 They froze, watching. Jacob could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn’t moving. “Maybe it’s asleep,” he breathed, glancing back at the other two. Lockhart’s hands were pressed over his eyes. Harry turned back to look at the thing. Harry edged forward, his wand held high. The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.  

 “Blimey,”  

There was a sudden movement behind them. Gilderoy Lockhart’s knees had given way. “Get up,” said Ron sharply, pointing his wand at Lockhart. Lockhart got to his feet — then he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. The other three were too late to jump forward as Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron’s wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face.  

 “The adventure ends here, kids! I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two tragically lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body — say good bye to your memories!”  

He raised Ron’s Spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, “Obliviate!” The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Jacob, Harry and Aurora jump backways, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, Harry, Aurora and Jacob were stood gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. “Ron! Are you okay? Ron!” Harry shouted. “I’m here!” came Ron’s muffled voice from behind the rock fall. “I’m okay — this git’s not, though — he got blasted by the wand — ” There was a dull thud and a loud “ow!” It sounded as though Ron had just kicked Lockhart in the shins. “What now?” Ron’s voice said, sounding desperate. “We can’t get through — it’ll take ages…” There was another thud and another “ow!” from behind the rocks. They were wasting time. Ginny had already been in the Chamber of Secrets for hours. “Wait there,” Harry called to Ron. “Wait with Lockhart. I’ll go on… If we're not back in an hour…I’ll try and shift some of this rock, So you can — can get back through. And, guys —”  There was a very pregnant pause. “I’ll stay here. I’ll try and help move rocks from this side to get to Ron” Aurora said. Harry nodded, Jacob didn’t care.  “See you in a bit,” said Harry, trying to inject some confidence into his shaking voice. And they set off alone past the giant snake skin.  

Soon the distant noise of Ron and Aurora straining to shift the rocks was gone. The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Jacob’s body was tingling unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he’d find when it did. And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.  

“That’s not creepy at all”  

“Jacob!”  

 Harry approached, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; Their eyes looked strangely alive. Harry cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker. “ Open ,” said Harry, in a low, faint hiss. The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight, and the trio, shaking from head to foot, walked inside.  

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rose to support a ceiling lost in darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place. Jacob’s heart was beating very fast. The monster could be anywhere. He saw Harry pull out his wand and decided to do the same. He pulled out his wand and moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls. He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir. Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall. Jacob had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above: It was ancient and monkey like, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black robed figure with flaming red hair.  

“Ginny!”   

“Harry, shhhs. The heir or the snake could hear you”   

Harry sprinted over to her and dropped to his knees. “Ginny — don't be dead — please don't be dead — ” He flung his wand aside, grabbed Ginny's shoulders, and turned her over. “Don’t disarm yourself Harr. Are you stupid?” Jacob said but he was ignored.  “Ginny, please wake up,” he heard harry beg. That’s when he saw him. A tall, black haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Jacob were looking at him through a misted window. “She won't wake,” the boy said, causing Harry to spin around and look, Harry seemed to recognise him straight away. “Tom — Tom Riddle?” Riddle nodded, not taking his eyes off Harry's face. Jacob gave him a look.  “What d'you mean, she won't wake?. She's not — she's not — ?” Harry asked. “She's still alive, But only just.” . Jacob had heard about Tom Riddle from his house mates.  Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. “Are you a ghost?” Jacob said uncertainly. “A memory,” said Riddle quietly. “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.” He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary Jacob had seen in Harry’s bag. “You've got to help us, Tom,” Harry said, raising Ginny's head. “We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk… I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment… Please, help us.”  

“PUT THAT DOWN! THAT’S HARRY’S!”  

“and I thank him dearly, Jacob Potter”  

“How do you know my name?”  

“I know all boths names. Harry James Potter and Jacob Fleamont Potter”  

Riddle was twirling Harry's wand between his long fingers. “can I have my wand, please?” said Harry, stretching out his hand for it, after he had picked Ginny up. A smile curled the corners of Riddle's mouth. “Listen, We’ve got to go! If the basilisk comes — ” said Harry urgently, his knees sagging with Ginny’s dead weight.  “It won’t come until it is called,” Jacob glared at him. Something wasn’t right about this boy.  Harry lowered Ginny back onto the floor, unable to hold her up any longer. “What d’you mean?” Harry said. “Look, give me my wand, I might need it — ” Riddle’s smile broadened. “You won’t be needing it, in fact neither of you will be needing them. Accio wand” Jacob’s wand quickly go flying out of his hand into Riddle’s. “What d’you mean, we won’t be — ” Jacob was cut off by the mad man.  

 “I’ve waited a long time for this, Harry and Jacob Potter, For the chance to see you both. To speak to you both”  

“we need to go. What don’t you understand? Give us our wands and we can talk later” Jacob snapped. He already had enough of this man and wanted to get out of there.   

“We’re going to talk now,”  

 Riddle, still smiling broadly, pocketed the wands. Jacob glared at him and rolled up his fists, ready to attack. “How did Ginny get like this?” Harry asked slowly.  

 “Well, that’s an interesting question, And quite a long story. I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley’s like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger.”  

“Have you gone mad, Riddle? What are you talking about? Who could she have opened her to” Jacob muttered. The man smirked making everyone feel uneasy.  

 “The diary, My diary. Little Ginny’s been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes — how her brothers tease her, how she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books, how she didn’t think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her or how Harry was still taking to Jacob potter when he is a Slytherin and Her brothers say never trust a Slytherin”  

 All the time he spoke, Riddle’s eyes never left the children’s face. There was an almost hungry look in them.   

 “It’s very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl, But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic, I was kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom… I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in… It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…”  

Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn’t suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Jacob’s neck. Jacob hated it.  

 “If I say it myself, Harry, Jacob, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her…”  

 “What d’you mean?” said Harry, whose mouth had gone very dry. But Jacob knew what he meant and it scared him, even if he didn’t want to show it. “Ginny opened the chamber. You made her petrify all those students.” Jacob almost growled out.  

“Ginny said you were smart but not this smart, Jacob. But yes, Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on those Mudbloods, the  half breed and the Squib’s cat.”  

“No,” Harry whispered.  

 “Yes, Of course, she didn’t know what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… far more interesting, they became… Dear Tom, I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m not myself. I think he suspects me… There was another attack today and I don’t know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad… I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom!”  

Harry’s fists were clenched. Jacob glared at him.  

 “It took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary, But she finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it. And that’s where you came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn’t have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was you, the very person I was most anxious to meet…”  

 “And why did you want to meet me?” said Harry. His voice was filled with anger. “Harry, remind me to call you a dumb Gryffindor later for trusting a talking diary” Jacob whispered but was ignored.   

 “Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry, Your whole fascinating history. I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. Then I heard that you Jacob was Harry’s twin and had somehow also survived as a baby and last year but no one said you was a chosen one. I was curious. So I hoped one of you got the diary. Then Harry did and decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust — ”  

“You framed an innocent man! You are horrible! We thought you have made a mistake but no you framed him so you wouldn’t be found!” Harry shouted. “I wouldn’t say that innocent. He still had a giant spider” Jacob said. Riddle laughed his high laugh again.  

 “It was my word against Hagrid’s. Well, you can imagine how it looked to old Armando Dippet. On the one hand, Tom Riddle, poor but brilliant, parentless but so brave, school prefect, model student… on the other hand, big, blundering Hagrid, in trouble every other week, trying to raise werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking off to the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls…”  

“wait he tried rising werewolf cubs to?” Jacob said, shocked. Harry gave him a glare  

“Yes. but I admit, even I was surprised how well the plan worked. I thought someone must realize that Hagrid couldn’t possibly be the Heir of Slytherin. It had taken me five whole years to find out everything I could about the Chamber of Secrets and discover the secret entrance… as though Hagrid had the brains, or the power! Only the Transfiguration teacher, Dumbledore, seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper. Yes, I think Dumbledore might have guessed… Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did…”  

 “I bet Dumbledore saw right through you,” said Harry, Jacob didn’t really believe him.   

 “Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled, I knew it wouldn’t be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn’t going to waste those long years I’d spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen year old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin’s noble work.”  

 “Well, you haven’t finished it,” said Harry triumphantly. “No one’s died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again — ” Jacob smiled a toothy smile at the 16 year old.  

 “Haven’t I already told you, that killing Mudbloods doesn’t matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been — you two. Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you, Harry, with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you? What if, even worse, I told you who’d been strangling roosters? So the foolish little brat waited until your dormitory was deserted and stole it back. But I knew what I must do. It was clear to me that you were on the trail of Slytherin’s heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you both, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery — particularly if one of your friends was attacked and you’d be threatened to going back to the muggles you live with. You and me are the same like that, Jacob. We’d do anything to not go back to those horrible Muggles who raised us. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you two could speak Parseltongue. So I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But there isn’t much life left in her… She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last… I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you’d come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter and an offer for you, Jacob Potter”  

 “Like what?” Harry spat, fists still clenched. “What offer?” Jacob asked.   

 “Well, how is it that you, Harry, a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent — managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed? Jacob, I will give you your offer later. When you see my victory”  

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now. “Why do you care how I escaped?” said Harry slowly. “Voldemort was after your time…”  

 “Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…”  

He pulled Jacob’s wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:  

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE  

 Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:  

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT  

 “You see? It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy Muggle father’s name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry, Jacob — I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”  

“You’re a half blood?” Jacob said, kind of shocked. “You’re not,” Harry finally said, his quiet voice full of hatred.  

“Not what?”  

Jacob started at Harry with confusion. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so.” Jacob stopped himself saying i don’t and let harry continue. “Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days — ” 
The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.  

 “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!”  

“He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. Riddle opened his mouth, but froze. Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine tingling, unearthly; It lifted the hair on Jacob’s scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size. Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Jacob felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar. A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock’s and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle. A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder. As it folded its great wings, Jacob looked over and saw it had a long, sharp golden beak and a beady black eye. The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry’s cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.  

 “That’s a phoenix,”  

 “Fawkes?” Harry breathed, and he felt the bird’s golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently. “And that — that’s the old school Sorting Hat — ” Jacob said, staring at the thing in Harry's hands. So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry’s feet. Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once.  

 “This is what Dumbledore sends his defenders! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter? Do you trust Dumbledore with your life now, Jacob Potter?”  

 The kids didn’t answer. They might not see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but they were no longer alone, and they waited for Riddle to stop laughing with his courage mounting.  

 “To business, Harry, Jacob. Twice — in your past, in my future — we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk, the longer you stay alive.”  

  The kids didn’t know what to do or say. Riddle had the wands. They had Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, neither of which would be much good in a duel. It looked bad, all right… but the longer Riddle stood there, the more life was dwindling out of Ginny… and in the meantime, Riddle’s outline was becoming clearer, more solid… If it had to be a fight between them and Riddle, better sooner than later. “No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me,” said Harry abruptly. “I don’t know myself. But I know why you couldn’t kill us. Because my mother died to save us. our common Muggle-born mother,” he added, shaking with suppressed rage. “She stopped you killing us. And i’ve seen the real you, i saw you last year. We both did. You’re a wreck. You’re barely alive. You could even strangle me to death. That’s where all your power got you. You’re in hiding. You’re ugly, you’re foul — ”  Riddle’s face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile.  

  “So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that’s a powerful counter charm. I can see now… there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed, Harry, Jacob. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only three Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike… But after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you both from me. That’s all I wanted to know.”  

 Jacpb stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle’s twisted smile was widening again.  

 “Now, Kids, I’m going to teach you a little lesson. Let’s match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, the pushed aside Jacob Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give them…”  

He cast an amused eye over Fawkes and the Sorting Hat, then walked away. Jacob watched Riddle stop between the high pillars and look up into the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the half darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed —  

 “ Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four.”  

 Jacob wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder. Slytherin’s gigantic stone face was moving. Horrorstruck, Jacob saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue’s mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths. The twins backed up until they hit the dark Chamber wall, and as they shut their eyes tight, Jacob heard Fawkes’ wing as he took flight. Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Jacob felt it shudder — he knew what was happening, he could sense it, could almost see the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin’s mouth. Then he heard Riddle’s hissing voice:  

 “ Kill them”  

The basilisk was moving toward the twins; they could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, they began to run blindly sideways, hands outstretched, feeling his way — Voldemort was laughing. The serpent was barely feet from them, Jacob could hear it coming. There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Jacob so hard that he was smashed into the wall. Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars. He couldn’t help it — he opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on.  The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Jacob trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake. Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers. Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake’s tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry, and before Jacob could shut his eyes, it turned — Jacob looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes, both its great, bulbous yellow eyes, had been punctured by the phoenix; Blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.  

 “NO! LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOYS ARE BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL THEM. KILL THEM!”  

 The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes “Help me, help me,” Harry muttered wildly, “someone — anyone!” The snake's tail whipped across the floor again. The three ducked. Jacob heard something hit Harry. The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Harry seized it. It was all he had left, his only chance — he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail swung over them again.  

“Harry, don’t know if I told you but I’m very gay!”   

“Yeah I think i gue-“  

Harry cut himself off as he suddenly found something in the Sorting Hat. A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat, its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs. They had a weapon now. They have a chance of surviving now.  

 “KILL THE BOYS! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOYS ARE BEHIND YOU. SNIFF — SMELL THEM”  

They twins quickly jumped to their feet. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. Jacob could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide, wide enough to swallow him whole, lined with fangs long as his sword, thin, glittering, venomous…  

It lunged blindly.   

Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, and Jacob felt a debilitating pain in his arm. He looked down to notice a tooth mark in his side, left by one long poisonous fang. Blood was pouring out of it as he collapsed to the floor. Harry didn’t have time to react for the basilisk lunged again, and this time its aim was at Harry — Harry threw his whole weight behind the sword and drove it to the hilt into the roof of the serpent's mouth — But he got caught on of the teeth. One long, poisonous fang was sinking deeper and deeper into his arm and it splintered as the basilisk keeled over sideways and fell, twitching, to the floor. Harry slid down the wall. He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late for both of them. White hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wounds. Blood was soaking their robes. Their vision was going blurry. Even as he dropped the fang and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour. Eric was finding it hard to stay awake.  

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Jacob heard a soft clatter of claws beside him. “Fawkes,” said Harry thickly. “You were fantastic, Fawkes…” Jacob quietly heard something about the bird healing Harry. But it was overpowered by echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of the trio  

 “You're dead, Harry Potter. You two Jacob Potter. Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Harry Potter? He's crying into your wound and he doesn’t even care about you, Jacob. No body seems to care about you do they.”  

Fawkes's head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.  

“I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry and Jacob Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry.”  

Jacob felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.  

“So ends the famous Harry Potter and his brother Jacob Potter, Alone in the Chamber of Secrets, forsaken by their friends, defeated at last by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon… She bought you twelve years of borrowed time… but Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must…”  

He needed to fight the blurriness and pain. He slowly pushed himself off the floor, getting really dizzy as he did so. He looked over to see Fawkes healing Harry. He smiled a faint smile. At least Harry will live. He looked to the side and spotted the diary.  

“Get away, bird, Get away from him – I said, get away –”  

Jacob slowly pulled himself into a crawl, no matter how much it hurt. Bruises + massive side wound + poison was not a good mix. He heard a bang behind him that sounded like a gun but he didn’t dare look as he finally arrived at the diary.  

“Phoenix tears…Of course…healing powers…I forgot… But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter…you and me…. Then I will watch your brother dir- wait where’s Jacob?”  

Jacob had been able to get to diary without Riddle noticing. Without thinking, without considering, as though he had meant to do it all along, Jacob seized the basilisk fang out of his side and plunged it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Jacob’s hands, flooding the floor. Riddle was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing and then –  

He had gone. The wands fell to the floor with a clatter and there was silence. Silence except for the steady drip drip of ink still oozing from the diary. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through it. But Jacob couldn’t celebrate with the others as everything had gone black.  

Jacob woke up, outside McGonagall’s office, in Ron’s arms, side healed by Phoenix tears. Despite still hurting, Jacob quickly climbed out of Ron’s arms as Harry knocked. “we never speak of this again!” He muttered just before the door opened. For a moment there was silence as Harry, Ron, Aurora, Jacob, Ginny, and Lockhart stood in the doorway, covered in muck and slime and (in the twin’s case) blood. Then there was a scream.  

“Ginny!”  

It was Mrs. Weasley, who had been sitting crying in front of the fire. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr. Weasley, and both of them flung themselves on their daughter. Professor Dumbledore was standing by the mantelpiece, beaming, next to Professor McGonagall, who was taking great, steadying gasps, clutching her chest. Fawkes went whooshing past Harry’s ear and settled on Dumbledore’s shoulder, just as Jacob found himself, Harry, Aurora and Ron being swept into Mrs. Weasley’s tight embrace.  

“You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?”  

“I think we’d all like to know that,” said Professor McGonagall weakly. Mrs. Weasley let go of the kids. Harry hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the desk and laid upon it the Sorting Hat, the ruby-encrusted sword, and what remained of Riddle’s diary. Then he and Jacob started telling them everything. For nearly a quarter of an hour they spoke into the rapt silence: they told them about hearing the disembodied voice, how Hermione had finally realized that they were hearing a basilisk in the pipes; how Harry, Aurora and Ron had followed the spiders into the forest, that Aragog had told them where the last victim of the basilisk had died; how Harry had guessed that Moaning Myrtle had been the victim, and that the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets might be in her bathroom. …  

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall prompted him as he paused, “so you found out where the entrance was — breaking a hundred school rules into pieces along the way, I might add — but how on earth did you all get out of there alive?” So Harry, his voice now growing hoarse from all this talking, told them about Fawkes’s timely arrival and about the Sorting Hat giving him the sword. But then he faltered. The twins had so far avoided mentioning Riddle’s diary — or Ginny. She was standing with her head against Mrs. Weasley’s shoulder, and tears were still coursing silently down her cheeks.  “What interests me most, is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when my sources tell me he is currently in hiding in the forests of Albania.” said Dumbledore gently,  “W-what’s that? You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny’s not … Ginny hasn’t been … has she?” said Mr. Weasley in a stunned voice. “It was this diary,” said Jacob quickly, picking it up and showing it to Dumbledore. “Riddle wrote it when he was sixteen. …” Dumbledore took the diary from Jacob and peered keenly down his long, crooked nose at its burnt and soggy pages.“Brilliant,” he said softly. “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen.” He turned around to the Weasleys, who were looking utterly bewildered. “Very few people know that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school … traveled far and wide … sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”  

“But, Ginny, What’s our Ginny got to do with — with — him?” said Mrs. Weasley.  “His d-diary! I’ve b-been writing in it, and he’s been w-writing back all year —” Ginny sobbed. “Ginny Haven’t I taught you anything? What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain. Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic —!” said Mr. Weasley, flabbergasted.  “I d-didn’t know, I found it inside one of the books Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it —” sobbed Ginny.   

“Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interrupted in a firm voice. “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort.” He strode over to the door and opened it. “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find that cheers me up, You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice — I daresay the basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment.” he added, twinkling kindly down at her. “So Hermione’s okay!” said Ron brightly. “There has been no lasting harm done, Ginny,” said Dumbledore. Mrs. Weasley led Ginny out, and Mr. Weasley followed, still looking deeply shaken. “You know, Minerva, I think all this merits a good feast. Might I ask you to go and alert the kitchens?” Professor Dumbledore said thoughtfully to Professor McGonagall, “Right, I’ll leave you to deal with the Potters, Tonks and Weasley, shall I?” said Professor McGonagall crisply, also moving to the door.  “Certainly,” said Dumbledore. She left, and Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Ron gazed uncertainly at Dumbledore.   

“I seem to remember telling some of you that I would have to expel you if you broke any more school rules,” said Dumbledore. Ron opened his mouth in horror. “Which goes to show that the best of us must sometimes eat our words,” Dumbledore went on, smiling. “all four you, even you Jacob, will receive Special Awards for Services to the School and — let me see — yes, I think two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor and Slytherin” Ron went as brightly pink as Lockhart’s valentine flowers and closed his mouth again.  

“But one of us seems to be keeping mightily quiet about his part in this dangerous adventure,” Dumbledore added. “Why so modest, Gilderoy?” Jacob glared at the blonde. He had completely forgotten about Lockhart. He turned and saw that Lockhart was standing in a corner of the room, still wearing his vague smile. When Dumbledore addressed him, Lockhart looked over his shoulder to see who he was talking to. “Professor Dumbledore, there was an accident down in the Chamber of Secrets. Professor Lockhart —” Ron said quickly,  “Am I a professor? Goodness. I expect I was hopeless, was I?” said Lockhart in mild surprise. “He tried to do a Memory Charm and the wand backfired,” Ron explained quietly to Dumbledore. “Dear me, Impaled upon your own sword, Gilderoy!” said Dumbledore, shaking his head, his long silver mustache quivering.  “Sword?” said Lockhart dimly. “Haven’t got a sword. That boy has, though. He’ll lend you one.” He pointed at Harry. “Would you mind taking Professor Lockhart up to the infirmary, too?” Dumbledore said to Ron and Aurora. “I’d like a few more words with Harry and Jacob. …” Lockhart ambled out, Followed by Ron and Aurora.   

Dumbledore crossed to one of the chairs by the fire. “Sit down, Boys,” he said, and the twins sat, feeling unaccountably nervous. “First of all, I want to thank you,” said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling again. “You must have shown me real loyalty down in the Chamber. Nothing but that could have called Fawkes to you.” He stroked the phoenix, which had fluttered down onto his knee. Harry grinned awkwardly as Dumbledore watched him. Jacob rolled his eyes. He didn’t really. He agreed with everything Riddle said about him. .“And so you met Tom Riddle,” said Dumbledore thoughtfully. “I imagine he was most interested in you. …” Suddenly, something that was nagging at Harry came tumbling out of his mouth.  

“Professor Dumbledore … Riddle said we are like him. Strange likenesses, he said. …”  

“Did he, now? And what do you think, Harry?” said Dumbledore, looking thoughtfully at Harry from under his thick silver eyebrows. Jacob stopped himself from nodding. “I don’t think I’m like him!” said Harry, more loudly than he’d intended. “I mean, I’m — I’m in Gryffindor, I’m …” But he fell silent, a lurking doubt resurfacing in his mind. “Professor, The Sorting Hat told me I’d — I’d have done well in Slytherin, like Jacob. Everyone thought we were the Slytherin’s heirs for a while … because we can speak Parseltongue. …” he started again after a moment.  “You can speak Parseltongue, Harry, because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar, Harry. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure. …. I’m not sure how you can speak it, Jacob, seeing as you don’t have a scar” said Dumbledore calmly, without realising, Jacob rubbed his shoulder where his secret scar is.  “Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?” Harry said, thunderstruck.  

“It certainly seems so.”  

“So I should be in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat could see Slytherin’s power in me, and it —”  

“Put you in Gryffindor, Listen to me, Harry. You happen to have many qualities Salazar Slytherin prized in his hand-picked students. His own very rare gift, Parseltongue, resourcefulness — determination — a certain disregard for rules, Yet the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor. You know why that was. Think.”  

“It only put me in Gryffindor, because I asked not to go in Slytherin. …”  

“Exactly, Which makes you very different from Tom Riddle. It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities. If you want proof, Harry, that you belong in Gryffindor, I suggest you look more closely at this.”  

Dumbledore reached across to Professor McGonagall’s desk, picked up the blood-stained silver sword, and handed it to Harry. Dully, Harry turned it over, the rubies blazing in the firelight. And then he saw the name engraved just below the hilt.  

Godric Gryffindor.  

“Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that out of the hat, Harry,” said Dumbledore simply. For a minute, none of them spoke. Then Dumbledore pulled open one of the drawers in Professor McGonagall’s desk and took out a quill and a bottle of ink. “What you need, Harry, Jacob, is some food and sleep. I suggest you go down to the feast, while I write to Azkaban — we need our gamekeeper back. And I must draft an advertisement for the Daily Prophet, too,” he added thoughtfully. “We’ll be needing a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. … Dear me, we do seem to run through them, don’t we?” The twins got up and crossed to the door. But Jacob paused and turned back to Dumbledor. “By the way, Sir, Hogwarts would be a lot safer if you never stepped foot in it in the first place” Jacob said before carrying on after his twin. Harry had just reached for the handle, however, when the door burst open so violently that it bounced back off the wall.  

Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby. Harry gave Jacob a glare to say “you knew he belonged to the Malfoy’s didn’t you?” Jacob just smirked to him. “Good evening, Lucius,” said Dumbledore pleasantly. Jacob waved hi and Lucius nodded to him but Lucius almost knocked Harry over as he swept into the room. Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face. The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Mr. Malfoy’s shoes. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was disheveled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.  

“So! You’ve come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts.”  

“Well, you see, Lucius, the other eleven governors contacted me today. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They’d heard that Arthur Weasley’s daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job after all. Very strange tales they told me, too. … Several of them seemed to think that you had threatened to curse their families if they didn’t agree to suspend me in the first place.”  

“So — have you stopped the attacks yet? Have you caught the culprit?”  

“We have,”   

“Well? Who is it?”  

“The same person as last time, Lucius, But this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. By means of this diary.”  

He held up the small black book with the large hole through the center, watching Lucius closely. Harry and Jacob, however, were watching Dobby. The elf was doing something very odd. His great eyes fixed meaningfully on Harry, he kept pointing at the diary, then at Lucius, and then hitting himself hard on the head with his fist.  

“I see …”   

“A clever plan, Because if Harry and Jacob here and their friends Ron and Aurora hadn’t discovered this book, why — Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would ever have been able to prove she hadn’t acted of her own free will. …”  

Mr. Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike.  

“And imagine, what might have happened then. … The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pure-blood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing Muggle-borns. … Very fortunate the diary was discovered, and Riddle’s memories wiped from it. Who knows what the consequences might have been otherwise. …”  

“Very fortunate,”   

And still, behind his back, Dobby was pointing, first to the diary, then to Lucius Malfoy, then punching himself in the head. And the twins suddenly understood. Harry nodded at Dobby, and Dobby backed into a corner, now twisting his ears in punishment. “Don’t you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” said Harry. Lucius Malfoy rounded on him. “How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?” he said. “Because you gave it to her,” said Harry. “In Flourish and Blotts. You picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn’t you?” Lucius’s white hands clenched and unclenched. “Prove it,” he hissed. “Oh, no one will be able to do that,” said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. “Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Lord Voldemort’s old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you. …” Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Jacob distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand. Instead, he turned to his house-elf  

“We’re going, Dobby!”  

He wrenched open the door and as the elf came hurrying up to him, he kicked him right through it. They could hear Dobby squealing with pain all the way along the corridor.  “no one should feel the need to punish themselves” Jacob muttered before grabbing the diary and putting his sock in it. “go give this to Dobby. I can’t, Lucius is my best friend’s dad” Jacob said handing Harry the diary. Harry nodded and ran of Lucius. Jacob followed.  They caught up with them at the top of the stairs. “Mr. Malfoy,” Harry gasped, skidding to a halt, “I’ve got something for you —” And he forced the smelly sock into Lucius Malfoy’s hand. “What the — ?” Mr. Malfoy ripped the sock off the diary, threw it aside, then looked furiously from the ruined book to Harry. “You’ll meet the same sticky end as your parents one of these days, Harry Potter,” he said softly. “They were meddlesome fools, too.” He turned to go. “Come, Dobby. I said, come.” But Dobby didn’t move. He was holding up Harry’s disgusting, slimy sock, and looking at it as though it were a priceless treasure.  

“Master has given a sock, Master gave it to Dobby.”  

“What’s that? What did you say?”  

“Got a sock, Master threw it, and Dobby caught it, and Dobby — Dobby is free.”  

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf. Then he lunged at Harry. “You’ve lost me my servant, boy!” But Dobby shouted, “You shall not harm Harry Potter!” There was a loud bang, and Lucius was thrown backward. He crashed down the stairs, three at a time, landing in a crumpled heap on the landing below. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger. “You shall go now,” he said fiercely, pointing down at Lucius. “You shall not touch Harry Potter. You shall go now.” Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out of sight.  

“Harry Potter freed Dobby! Harry Potter set Dobby free!” said the elf shrilly, gazing up at Harry, moonlight from the nearest window reflected in his orb-like eyes. “Actually it was Jacob’s sock and idea. I just handed it over so Jacob could still have out with his friend. But please just promise to never try and save my life again” Harry said.  “Draco Malfoy’s friend freed me? Why?” Dobby asked. “because no one should be a slave unless they like it” Jacob explained. The elf’s ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile. “I’ve just got one question, Dobby,” said Harry as Dobby pulled on Harry’s sock with shaking hands.  

“You told me all this had nothing to do with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, remember? Well —”  

“It was a clue, sir, Was giving you a clue. The Dark Lord, before he changed his name, could be freely named, you see?”  

“Right, Well, I’d better go. There’s a feast, and my friend Hermione should be awake by now. …”  

Dobby threw his arms around Harry’s middle and hugged him. “Harry Potter is greater by far than Dobby knew!” he sobbed. “Farewell, Harry Potter!” And with a final loud crack, Dobby disappeared.  

Jacob had been to several Hogwarts feasts, but never one quite like this. Everybody was in their pajamas, and the celebration lasted all night. Jacob didn’t know whether the best bit was Professor McGonagall standing up to tell them all that the exams had been cancelled as a school treat, or Dumbledore announcing that, unfortunately, Professor Lockhart would be unable to return next year, owing to the fact that he needed to go away and get his memory back. Quite a few of the teachers joined in the cheering that greeted this news. The rest of the final term passed in a haze of blazing sunshine. Hogwarts was back to normal with only a few, small differences — Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were cancelled and Lucius Malfoy had been sacked as a school governor. Draco was no longer strutting around the school as though he owned the place. On the contrary, he looked resentful and sulky. He also wouldn’t stop complaining about Dobby being released. On the other hand, Ginny Weasley was perfectly happy again. Too soon, it was time for the journey home on the Hogwarts Express. Draco and Jacob sat together but Draco would shut up so Jacob left and joined  Harry, Aurora, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny. The Hogwarts Express slowed and finally stopped. Harry pulled out his quill and a bit of parchment and turned to Ron, Aurora and Hermione. “This is called a telephone number, I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer — he’ll know. Call me at the Dursleys’, okay?” he told Ron, scribbling it three tome, tearing the parchment in three, and handing it to them. “Your aunt and uncle will be proud, though, won’t they?” said Hermione as they got off the train and joined the crowd thronging toward the enchanted barrier. “When they hear what you did this year? Jacob burst out laughing.  “Proud?” said Jacob. “Are you crazy? All those times I could’ve died, and I didn’t manage it? They’ll be furious. …” And together they walked back through the gateway to the Muggle world.  

Chapter Text

“Will you let me have some light, Harry? I’m also trying to catch up on history of magic.”  

It was almost midnight, in the middle of the summer holidays, and the twins were lying on their stomachs in bed, the blankets drawn right over their heads like a tent, a flashlight in Harry’s hand and a large leather-bound book (A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot) propped open against the pillow. Each twin had a feather quill in their hand and a parchement in front of them. Each would take notes for the eassy they each would write in their own words. The homework they were given was titled “Witch Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless — discuss.”. They had to use information from the text book to prove their points.   

Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. Indeed, Wendelin the Weird enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no less than forty-seven times in various disguises.  

As the twins wrote, they paused every now and then to listen because if any of the Dursleys heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, they;d probably find themselves locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer. The dursleys thought all the twin’s stuff in the cuboard under the stars where they had put them at the start of the summer, however, while Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon’s new company car (in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too), the twins had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard, grabbed their books, and hid them in their bedroom. The dursleys will never know if they spill the ink.   

“I still can’t believe you were dumb enough to give the number over”  

“I didn’t know Uncle vernon would aswer. I didn’t know we would get in trouble”  

“Yes you did Harry. Everything goes wrong for us in the summer and now we are in big trouble”  

“Yeah well now we haven’t heard from anyone for 5 weeks”  

“Are you finished your easy notes, Jay?”  

“Yeah You?”  

“Yeah. What time is it?”  

“1 am. We should put our stuff away”  

With that, Harry packed everything up for the two of them. Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig’s large, empty cage, to the open window. He leaned on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets. Hedwig had been absent for two nights now. Harry wasn’t worried about her: she’d been gone this long before. But he hoped she’d be back soon.   

“Happy 13 th birthday, Harry”  

“Happy 13 th birthday, Jacob”  

Silhouetted against the golden moon, and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lopsided creature, and it was flapping in Harry’s direction. He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. Through the window soared five owls, two of them holding up another, which appeared to be unconscious. They landed with a soft flump on the twin’s bed, and the middle owl, which was large and gray, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its legs. Jacob recognized the unconscious owl at once — his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family. Jacob sighed and opened the package for Harry as Harry put Errol in Hedwig’s cage. He ripped off the brown paper, and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and Harry first ever birthday card. He passed the envelope to Harry who opened it. Two pieces of paper fell out — a letter and a newspaper clipping. The clipping had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, because the people in the black-and-white picture were moving. Harry picked up the clipping, smoothed it out, and read:  

MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE  

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.  

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, “We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.”  

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.  

Jacob looked over and scanned the moving photograph, he saw all nine of the Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid. Plump little Mrs. Weasley; tall, balding Mr. Weasley; six sons; and one daughter, all (though the black-and-white picture didn’t show it) with flaming-red hair. Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling, with his pet rat, Scabbers, on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny. Harry picked up Ron’s letter and unfolded it.  

Dear Harry, Happy birthday!  

Look, I’m really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn’t give you a hard time. I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn’t have shouted.  

It’s amazing here in Egypt. Bill’s taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn’t believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn’t let Ginny come in the last one. There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who’d broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.  

I couldn’t believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred galleons! Most of it’s gone on this trip, but they’re going to buy me a new wand for next year.  

We’ll be back about a week before term starts and we’ll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?  

Don’t let the Muggles get you down!  

Try and come to London,  

Ron  

1. Percy’s Head Boy. He got the letter last week.

Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.  

Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there’s someone untrustworthy around, it’s supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it’s rubbish sold for wizard tourists and isn’t reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night. But he didn’t realize Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.  

Bye — Ron  

Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced on its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock. Harry then turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig. She, too, was carrying a parcel and looked extremely pleased with herself. She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol. Harry picks up the parcel Hedwig had brought. Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card, and a letter, this time from Hermione.  

Dear Harry,  

Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon. I do hope you’re all right.  

I’m on holiday in France at the moment and I didn’t know how I was going to send this to you — what if they’d opened it at customs? — but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change. I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the Daily Prophet (I’ve been getting it delivered; it’s so good to keep up with what’s going on in the wizarding world). Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago? I bet he’s learning loads. I’m really jealous — the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.  

There’s some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I’ve rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I’ve found out. I hope it’s not too long — it’s two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.  

Ron says he’s going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your aunt and uncle let you come? I really hope you can. If not, I’ll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September first!  

Love from, Hermione  

1. Ron says Percy’s Head Boy. I’ll bet Percy’s really pleased.

Ron doesn’t seem too happy about it.  

Jacob rolled his eyes as Harry laughed. He put Hermione’s letter aside and picked up her present. Harry ripped back the paper and saw a sleek black leather case, with silver words stamped across it, reading Broomstick Servicing Kit. “Wow, Hermione!” Harry whispered, unzipping the case to look inside. There was a large jar of Fleetwood’s High-Finish handle Polish, a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip on your broom for long journeys, and a Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare. “of course it’s Quidditch stuff” Jacob mumbled.   

Jacob recognised the next owl as Draco Malfoy’s owl. Jacob smirked as his twin and grabbed the parcel and letter. He opened the parcel first and found a very expensive set of goblin made weighting scales for potions ingredients. “thanks, Dray” He muttered then opened the letter.    

“ Hello Jacob,  

Happy 13 th birthday. I hope you are having  an amazing summer and that the Muggles are treating your worth. If you need to saving, just contact us. Father and mother have already agreed you can stay with us but you need to contact us first.  

I hope to see you seen.  Life is so boring without you.  

Regards,  

Draco Malfoy”  

Jacob smiled but the smile turned to one of confusion when he saw the next owl. It had a letter and a present for both of the twins. First they opened the parcels. Harry ended up with a chain that had a little Snitch attached to it. Jacob ended up with a brand new cauldron. The two boys then opened their letter’s next.  

“Hey Harry,  

Happy birthday  

I hope you are having an amazing summer just like me. I hope the Dursleys are letting you have some freedom. I hope you like the chain I got you. I miss you and can’t wait to see you again.  

Are you joining us in London to go shopping on the last week of the holidays? I hope so. Please tell me you are.  

From Aurora”  

“Hey Jacob,  

Happy birthday. I know you like potions and this is apparently one of the best cauldron’s to use.  

From Aurora”  

Harry and Jacob didn’t recognize the lasy owl, a handsome tawny one, but they knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to another package for Harry, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest. When Harry relieved this owl of its burden, it ruffled its feathers importantly, stretched its wings, and took off through the window into the night. Harry put the letter aside and picked up his last parcel.   

Harry tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery, but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly — as though it had jaws. The twins froze before giving each other a look. Harry then poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand, and raised it over his head, ready to strike. Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled. And out fell — a book. Jacob just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title The Monster Book of Monsters, before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled sideways along the bed like some weird crab. “Uh-oh,” Harry muttered. The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room. Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached toward it.  

“Ouch!”  

The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers. Jacob watched, trying not to laugh. Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward, and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door. Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers, and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it. The Monster Book shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down on the bed and reached for Hagrid’s card.  

Dear Harry, Happy birthday!  

Think you might find this useful for next year.  

Won’t say no more here. Tell you when I see you.  

Hope the Muggles are treating you right.  

All the best,  

Hagrid  

"I told you that man is crazy” Jacob said as Harry put Hagrid’s card up next to Ron’s, Aurora’s and Hermione’s (and Draco’s), grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left. Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within, and read:  

Dear Mr. Potter & Mr. Potter,  

Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. The Hogwarts Express will leave from King’s Cross station, platform nine and threequarters, at eleven o’clock.  

Third years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade on certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission forms to your parent or guardian to sign.  

Two lists of books for next year is enclosed.  

Yours sincerely, Professor M. McGonagall Deputy Headmistress  

Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission forms and looked at it, no longer grinning. “There is no way we are going to get them to sign that” Jacob said. “I know but we can try” Harry said hopefully. “Maybe in your dreams. Speaking of dreams, maybe we should be doing that it’s 2am” Jacob muttered.   

When the twins went down to breakfast the next morning, the three Dursleys were already sitting around the kitchen table, watching Dudley’s brand-new kitchen TV. Harry and Jacob sat themselves between Vernon and Dudley and helped themselves to some toast. Jacob looked up to the TV ad nudged Harry to listen to the news report.   

“… The public is warned that Black is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hot line has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately.”  

“No need to tell us he’s no good,” snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. “Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! Look at his hair!” He shot a nasty look sideways at the twins who were in a dire need of a haircut and have been for the last couple of years. Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Jacob felt very well groomed indeed. The reporter had reappeared.  

“The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today —”  

“Hang on!” barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. “You didn’t tell us where that maniac’s escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!” Aunt Petunia whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window.  “When will they learn that hanging’s the only way to deal with these people?” said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist. Jacob glared at him.  “Very true,” said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door’s runner beans. Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch, and added, “I’d better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge’s train gets in at ten.” This caused the twins to freeze in shock before looking at each other before looking at Vernon.  “Aunt Marge? Sh — she’s not coming here, is she?” Harry blurted out. Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon’s sister, and she absolutely despised the twins, and the twins hated her back. “Marge’ll be here for a week,” Uncle Vernon snarled, “And while we’re on the subject” — he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry — “we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her.” Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television.    

“Firstly, you’ll keep a civil tongue in your head when you’re talking to Marge. No backchatting or sarcasm, Jacob”  

“All right, if she does when she’s talking to me.” said Harry bitterly. Jacob muttered something under his breath that no one could understand.   

“Secondly, as Marge doesn’t know anything about your abnormality, I don’t want any — any funny stuff while she’s here. You both behave yourself, got me?”  

“I will if she does,” said Harry through gritted teeth. “Yeah whatever” Jacob said, rolling his eyes.   

“And thirdly, we’ve told Marge you attend St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.”  

“What?” Harry yelled. “Huh?” Jacob said,   

“And you’ll be sticking to that story, boy, or there’ll be trouble,”   

“Well happy bloody birthday to us then” Jacob whispered to Harry while glaring at Vernon. Harry elbowed him and shushed him. “Well, Petunia, I’ll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?” said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet.  “No,” said Dudley. “Duddy’s got to make himself smart for his auntie,” said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley’s thick blond hair. “Mummy’s bought him a lovely new bow tie.” Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder. “See you in a bit, then,” he said, and he left the kitchen. Harry must have suddenly got an idea as he grabbed Jacob’s arm and pulled him into the hallway after Vernon.  Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat. “I’m not taking you two,” he snarled as he turned to see Harry watching him. “Like we wanted to come,” said Harry coldly. “I want to ask you something.” Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously.  

“Third years at Hog — at my school are allowed to visit the village sometimes,”  

“So?”   

“We need you to sign the permission forms,”   

“And why should I do that?”   

“Well, it’ll be hard work, pretending to Aunt Marge we go to that St. Whatsits —”  

“St. Brutus’s Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys!”   

“Exactly, It’s a lot to remember. We’ll have to make it sound convincing, won’t we? What if we accidentally let something slip?”  

“You’ll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won’t you?”  

“Knocking the stuffing out of us won’t make Aunt Marge forget what we could tell her,”  

Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.  

“But if you sign our permission forms, our swear we’ll remember where we are supposed to go to school, and we’ll act like a Mug — like we are normal and everything.”  

“Right, I shall monitor your behaviour carefully during Marge’s visit. If, at the end of it, you’ve toed the line and kept to the story, I’ll sign your ruddy forms.”  

He wheeled around, pulled open the front door, and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out. Jacob smiled. “And you say you aren’t a Slytherin” Jacob said as the twins made their way up to their bedroom. Once in the bedroom, Jacob collapsed onto the bed as Harry got to work. Slowly and sadly, Harry gathered up all the presents and birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with their homework. Then he went to Hedwig’s cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harry sighed, then poked them both awake. “Hedwig,” he said gloomily, “you’re going to have to clear off for a week. Go with Errol. Ron’ll look after you. I’ll write him a note, explaining. And don’t look at me like that” — Hedwig’s large amber eyes were reproachful — “it’s not my fault. It’s the only way I’ll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione.”. Jacob rolled his eyes and stood up. “You better take mouse with you. No eating her. But I don’t want aunt marge killing her” Jacob said before getting up and finding the rat in a hole in the bedroom wall.   

Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig (who had a note to Ron bound to her leg and a rat on her back) soared out of the window and out of sight. Harry put the empty cage away inside the wardrobe. But Harry and Jacob didn’t have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Petunia was shrieking up the stairs for Harry and Jacob to come down and get ready to welcome their guest. “Do something about your hair!” Aunt Petunia snapped as the twins reached the hall. Jacob sighed and tried to fix his hair but failed.  All too soon, there was a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Vernon’s car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors and footsteps on the garden path. “Get the door!” Aunt Petunia hissed at Harry. Harry grabbed the door and Jacob stood next to him.   

On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. In one hand she held an enormous suitcase and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog. “Where’s my Dudders?” roared Aunt Marge. “Where’s my neffy-poo?” Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow tie just visible under his many chins. Aunt Marge thrust the suitcase into Harry’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Dudley in a tight one-armed hug, and planted a large kiss on his cheek. “Only doing it for money” Jacob whispered as Marge and Dudley pulled away and marge gave Dudley a crisp twenty-pound note. “Petunia!” shouted Aunt Marge, striding past the twins as though they were a hat stand. Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia kissed, or rather, Aunt Marge bumped her large jaw against Aunt Petunia’s bony cheekbone. Uncle Vernon now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.  

“Tea, Marge? And what will Ripper take?”  

“Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer,”   

They all proceeded into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Jacob in the hall with the suitcase. But they weren’t complaining, they just began to take everything upstairs as slow as they could. By the time they got back to the kitchen, Aunt Marge had been supplied with tea and fruitcake, and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. “Who’s looking after the other dogs, Marge?” Uncle Vernon asked. “Oh, I’ve got Colonel Fubster managing them,” boomed Aunt Marge. “He’s retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn’t leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he’s away from me.” Ripper began to growl again as Harry and Jacob sat down. This directed Aunt Marge’s attention to the twins for the first time.  

“So! Still here, are you?”  

“Yes,” said Harry. Jacob just looked at her.   

“Don’t you say ‘yes’ in that ungrateful tone, it’s damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. Wouldn’t have done it myself. You’d have gone straight to an orphanage if you’d been dumped on my doorstep.”  

The twins forced a smile to appear on their faces, but it didn’t look right.   

“Don’t you smirk at me! I can see you haven’t improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you. Where is it that you send them, again, Vernon?”  

“St. Brutus’s,” said Uncle Vernon promptly. “It’s a first-rate institution for hopeless cases.” Jacob had to stop himself saying something mean.   

“I see, do they use the cane at St. Brutus’s, boy?”  

Jacob stopped himself rolling his eyes. “Oh Yeah, they use the cane all the time. They just love to use the cane. Several times a day the cane comes out. Oh, how they loved to use the cane” Jacob said, in a voice only Vernon seemed to pick up as he mouthed “watch it” to Jacob.   

“Excellent, I won’t have this namby-pamby, wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. A good thrashing is what’s needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. Have you been beaten often?”  

“Oh, yeah,” said Harry, trying to take Jacob’s lead, “loads of times.” this time Marge picked up on it as Aunt Marge narrowed her eyes.  

“I still don’t like your tone, boy, If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren’t hitting you both hard enough. Petunia, I’d write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in these two boy’s cases.”  

“Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?” this was Vernon cut in.    

As the week went on, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia instructions, Harry and Jacob tried to avoid Marge at all costs. However, Aunt Marge made that difficult as she wanted to be able to suggest improvements for their care and punishments and that can only happen in the twins were always in her eyesight. She also loved to compare the twins with Dudley and throwing out dark hints about what made the twins such unsatisfactory people. “You mustn’t blame yourself for the way the boy’s turned out, Vernon,” she said over lunch on the third day. “If there’s something rotten on the inside, there’s nothing anyone can do about it.” Jacob could tell Harry was close to blowing up. Gryffindor’s were never any good at controlling their anger. Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine. “It’s one of the basic rules of breeding,” she said. “You see it all the time with dogs. If there’s something wrong with the bitch, there’ll be something wrong with the pup —” At that moment, the wineglass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction and Aunt Marge sputtered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping. Jacob tried not to laugh as he gave Harry a look.  “Marge! Marge are you alright?” squealed Aunt Petunia.  “Not to worry,” grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. “Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster’s the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip …” But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry and Jacob suspiciously, so the twins decide they’d better skip dessert and escape from the table as soon as they could.  

“What the hell Harry? How are we meant to go to Hogsmeade if you keep blowing things up? Better yet if you keep blowing things up, the ministry will arrest us!”  

“I know, Jay, but she was being horrid about mum”  

“You have to hold the anger in”  

“that’s not healthy”  

“And neither is exploding things because your magic escape's”  

“Let's just go upstairs I can hear the Dursleys”  

Harry got through the next three days without another incident but then the final evening arrived. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry’s faults; during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them all with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy. Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red. Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. Harry and Jacob really didn’t want to be there but they had to stay.   

“Aah, Excellent nosh, Petunia. It’s normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after. …........ Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy, you’ll be a proper sized man, Dudders, like your father. Yes, I’ll have a spot more brandy, Vernon. …Now, these two here — They have a mean, runty look about them. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred. It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I’m saying nothing against your family, Petunia but your sister was a bad egg. They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel and here’s the result right in front of us. This Potter you never told me what he did?”  

“He — didn’t work,” said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. “Unemployed.”  

“As I expected! A noaccount, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —”  

“He was not,” said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet. Harry was shaking all over. Jacob glared at him. They had one night left to survive. One night and harry was going to ruin it.  “MORE BRANDY!” yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge’s glass. “You, boys, go to bed, go on —” he snarled at the twins.    

“No, Vernon, Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you? They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) —”  

“They didn’t die in a car crash!” said Harry, who found himself on his feet. Jacob sighed.   

“They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives! You are an insolent, ungrateful little —”  

But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger — but the swelling didn’t stop. Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls — she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, each of her fingers blowing up like a salami — “MARGE!” yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge’s whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.  

“NOOOOOOO!”  

Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge’s feet and tried to pull her down again but was almost lifted from the floor himself. A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon’s leg. Harry tore from the dining room, Jacob following him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as they reached it. In seconds, they had heaved their trunks to the front door. Harry sprinted upstairs, with Jacob on toe, and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. Following Harry’s lead, the two quickly fill their trunks with everything they need and own, including their new presents. Once packed, they dashed back downstairs just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.  

“COME BACK IN HERE! COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!”  

“I didn’t do anything. Why you shouting at me? This isn’t fair”  

Harry kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.” He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “We are going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.” The next thing Jacob knew, the two were out in the dark, quiet street, heaving their heavy trunks behind them, Hedwig’s cage under Harry’s arm.  

“One night, Harry. You had to survive one more night but nooo. You had to blow up aunt marge”  

“oh, shut up, Jacob.”  

Several streets away, the two collapsed against a wall, panting, dragging a heavy trunk was tiring and Jacob was still angry at Harry for getting them kicked out. They were stranded in the dark Muggle world, with absolutely nowhere to go. And the worst of it was, Harry had just done serious magic, which meant that the both of them almost certainly expelled from Hogwarts. Harry had broken the Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry very badly and Jacob was next to him so the ministry wouldn’t be able to tell which underage wizard cast the spell which is going to lead to them both being punished if the letter from last year is anything.  

 “Just let me contact Draco and he’ll come get us. Lucius can talk to the ministry and get us back into Hogwarts”  

“No. I am not letting Malfoy help me. He will make things worse for me”  

“Oh fuck you, Harry. At least I'm trying to find ways to help us”  

Harry went quiet and looked down at his wand, which he was still clutching in his hand. Jacob stared at him, wanting to know what he was thinking. Suddenly, Harry opened his trunk and pushed the contents aside, looking for something, before he found it, both of them froze, it felt like something or someone was watching them but the street appeared to be deserted, and no lights shone from any of the large square houses. The two quickly stood up, wands pointed out. Jacob had sensed rather than heard it: someone or something was standing in the narrow gap between the garage and the fence behind them. Jacob squinted at the black alleyway. “Lumos,” Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Jacob saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes. The twins stumble backwards, tripping over their trunks. Their wands go flying as they each flung out an arm to break their fall, and Jacob landed, hard, in the gutter — There was a deafening BANG, and the two threw up their hands to shield their eyes against a sudden blinding light —  

With a yell, the twins rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where they had just been lying. They belonged to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air. Gold lettering over the windshield spelled The Knight Bus. A conductor in a purple uniform leapt out of the bus and began to speak loudly to the night.   

“Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. Just stick out your wand hand, step on board, and we can take you anywhere you want to go. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this eve —”  

The conductor stopped abruptly. He had just caught sight of the twins, who was still sitting on the ground. The two quickly grab their wands and stand up. Close up, Jacob saw that Stan Shunpike was only a few years older than he was, eighteen or nineteen at most, with large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples.  

“What were you doin’ down there?” said Stan, dropping his professional manner. “We Fell over,” said Harry. “’Choo fall over for?” sniggered Stan. “We didn’t do it on purpose,” said Harry, annoyed. One of the knees in Harry’s jeans was torn, and the hand Jacob had thrown out to break his fall was bleeding. Harry suddenly remembered why he had fallen over and turned around quickly to stare at the alleyway between the garage and fence. The Knight Bus’s headlamps were flooding it with light, and it was empty. “’Choo lookin’ at?” said Stan. “There was a big black thing,” said Harry, pointing uncertainly into the gap. “Like a dog … but massive …” He looked around at Stan, whose mouth was slightly open. “Woss that on your ’ead?” said Stan abruptly. “Nothing,” said Harry quickly, flattening his hair over his scar. “Woss your names?” Stan persisted. “Neville Longbottom and this is umm Jack Weasley” said Harry, saying the first names that came into his head, Jacob glared at him. “So — so this bus, did you say it goes anywhere?” Harry went on quickly, hoping to distract Stan.  “Yep,” said Stan proudly, “anywhere you like, long’s it’s on land. Can’t do nuffink underwater. ’Ere, you did flag us down, dincha? Stuck out your wand ’and, dincha?” he said, looking suspicious again, “Yes, Listen, how much would it be to get to London?” said Jacob quickly. “Eleven Sickles each but for firteen you get ’ot chocolate, and for fifteen you get an ’ot water bottle an’ a toofbrush in the colour of your choice.” said Stan. Harry and Jacob rummaged in their trunks, extracted their money bags, and shoved some gold into Stan’s hand. The twins and Stan then lifted the trunks, with Hedwig’s cage balanced on top of Harry’s, up the steps of the bus.  

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen brass bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows. Candles were burning in brackets beside each bed, illuminating the wood-paneled walls. A tiny wizard in a nightcap at the rear of the bus muttered, “Not now, thanks, I’m pickling some slugs” and rolled over in his sleep. “You ’ave these two,” Stan whispered, shoving Harry’s trunk under the bed right behind the driver, who was sitting in an armchair in front of the steering wheel, and Jacob’s trunk under the bed next to Harry’s. “This is our driver, Ernie Prang. This is Neville Longbottom and Jack Weasley, Ern.” Ernie Prang, an elderly wizard wearing very thick glasses, nodded to the twins as they sat down on their bed. “Take ’er away, Ern,” said Stan, sitting down in the armchair next to Ernie’s. There was another tremendous BANG, and the next moment the twins found themselves flat on their beds, thrown backward by the speed of the Knight Bus.  Harry sat up but Jacob stayed laid down, pretending to be sleeping so he didn’t have to talk. He just listened to the different things being said.   

“This is where we was before you flagged us down, Where are we, Ern? Somewhere in Wales?”  

 “Ar,”   

“How come the Muggles don’t hear the bus?"  

“Them! Don’ listen properly, do they? Don’ look properly either. Never notice nuffink, they don’.”  

“Best go wake up Madam Marsh, Stan, We’ll be in Abergavenny in a minute.”  

The Knight Bus kept mounting the pavement, but it didn’t hit anything; lines of lampposts, mailboxes, and trash cans jumped out of its way as it approached and back into position once it had passed.  

“’Ere you go, Madam Marsh,”   

 Ern stamped on the brake and the beds slid a foot or so toward the front of the bus. Madam Marsh clamped a handkerchief to her mouth and tottered down the steps. Stan threw her bag out after her and rammed the doors shut; there was another loud BANG, and they were thundering down a narrow country lane, trees leaping out of the way. Jacob was about to fall properly to sleep until Harry fully woke him up by speaking loudly.    

“That man. He was on the Muggle news!”  

“Sirius Black, ’Course ’e was on the Muggle news, Neville, where you been?”  

“You oughta read the papers more, Neville.”  

Jacob sighed and turned over to get a peek at what Harry was reading on the newspaper.   

BLACK STILL AT LARGE  

Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.  

“We are doing all we can to recapture Black,” said the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, “and we beg the magical community to remain calm.”  

Fudge has been criticized by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.  

“Well, really, I had to, don’t you know,” said an irritable Fudge. “Black is mad. He’s a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister’s assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black’s true identity to anyone. And let’s face it — who’d believe him if he did?”  

While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand that Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse.  

Jacob rolls his eyes and goes back to pretending to be asleep.   

“Scary-lookin’ fing, inee?”   

“He murdered thirteen people? with one curse?  

“Yep, in front of witnesses an’ all. Broad daylight. Big trouble it caused, dinnit, Ern?”  

“Ar,”   

“Black woz a big supporter of You-Know-’Oo,”   

“What, Voldemort?”  

“You outta your tree? Choo say ’is name for?”  

“Sorry, Sorry, I — I forgot —”  

“Forgot! Blimey, my ’eart’s goin’ that fast …”  

“So — so Black was a supporter of You-Know-Who?”   

“Yeah, Yeah, that’s right. Very close to You-Know-’Oo, they say. Anyway, when little ’Arry Potter got the better of You-Know-’Oo — — all You-Know-’Oo’s supporters was tracked down, wasn’t they, Ern? Most of ’em knew it was all over, wiv You-Know-’Oo gone, and they came quiet. But not Sirius Black. I ’eard he thought ’e’d be second-incommand once You-Know-’Oo ’ad taken over. Anyway, they cornered Black in the middle of a street full of Muggles an’ Black took out ’is wand and ’e blasted ’alf the street apart, an’ a wizard got it, an’ so did a dozen Muggles what got in the way. ’ Orrible, eh? An’ you know what Black did then?”   

“What?”   

“Laughed, Jus’ stood there an’ laughed. An’ when reinforcements from the Ministry of Magic got there, ’e went wiv ’em quiet as anyfink, still laughing ’is ’ead off. ’Cos ’e’s mad, inee, Ern? Inee mad?”  

“If he weren’t when he went to Azkaban, he will be now, I’d blow meself up before I set foot in that place. Serves him right, mind you … after what he did. …”  

“They ’ad a job coverin’ it up, din’ they, Ern? ‘Ole street blown up an’ all them Muggles dead. What was it they said ’ad ’appened, Ern?”  

“Gas explosion,”   

“An’ now ’e’s out, Never been a breakout from Azkaban before, ’as there, Ern? Beats me ’ow ’e did it. Frightenin’, eh? Mind, I don’t fancy ’is chances against them Azkaban guards, eh, Ern?”  

“Talk about summat else, Stan, there’s a good lad. Them Azkaban guards give me the collywobbles.”  

“ ’Ear about that ’Arry and jay Potter? Blew up -ier aunt! We ’ad ’im ’ere on the Knight Bus, di’n’t we, Ern? ’E was tryin’ to run for it. …”  

The Knight Bus rolled through the darkness, scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths and trees, and Jacob lay, restless and miserable, on his feather bed. After a while, Stan remembered that Harry and Jacob had paid for hot chocolate, but poured it all over their pillows when the bus moved abruptly from Anglesey to Aberdeen. One by one, wizards and witches in dressing gowns and slippers descended from the upper floors to leave the bus. They all looked very pleased to go. Finally, Harry and Jacob were the only passenger left.   

“Right then, Neville, Jack, whereabouts in London?”  

“Diagon Alley,”   

“Righto, ’Old tight, then …”  

BANG!  

They were thundering along Charing Cross Road. Jacob sat up and watched buildings and benches squeezing themselves out of the Knight Bus’s way. The sky was getting a little lighter. Ern slammed on the brakes and the Knight Bus skidded to a halt in front of a small and shabbylooking pub, the Leaky Cauldron, behind which lay the magical entrance to Diagon Alley. “Thanks,” Harry said to Ern. Jacob just did a two finger salute. The two got of the bus and helped Stan lower their trunks and Hedwig’s cage onto the pavement. “Well,” said Harry. “ ’Bye then!” But Stan wasn’t paying attention. Still standing in the doorway to the bus, he was goggling at the shadowy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.  

“There you are, Harry, Jacob,”   

Before the two could turn, they felt a hand on their shoulder. At the same time, Stan shouted, “Blimey! Ern, come ’ere! Come ’ere!” Jacob sighed and looked at the owner in defeat. They had been found by Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic. Stan leapt onto the pavement beside them.   

“What didja call Neville and jack, Minister?”   

“Neville? Jack? This is Harry and Jacob Potter”  

“I knew it! Ern! Ern! Guess ’oo Neville and Jack is, Ern! ’E’s ’Arry Potter and Jay Potter! I can see ’is scar!”  

“Yes, well, I’m very glad the Knight Bus picked the two up, but the twins and I need to step inside the Leaky Cauldron now …”  

Fudge increased the pressure on the twins's shoulder, and Jacob found himself being steered inside the pub. A stooping figure bearing a lantern appeared through the door behind the bar. It was Tom, the wizened, toothless landlord. “You’ve got them, Minister! Will you be wanting anything? Beer? Brandy?” said Tom. “Perhaps a pot of tea,” said Fudge, who still hadn’t let go of the twins. There was a loud scraping and puffing from behind them, and Stan and Ern appeared, carrying the trunks and Hedwig’s cage and looking around excitedly. “ ’Ow come you di’n’t tell us ’oo you are, eh, Neville, Jack?” said Stan.  “And a private parlor, please, Tom,” said Fudge pointedly. “ ’Bye,” Harry said miserably to Stan and Ern as Tom beckoned Fudge toward the passage that led from the bar. “ ’Bye, Neville! Bye Jack” called Stan. Fudge marched Harry and Jacob along the narrow passage after Tom’s lantern, and then into a small parlor. Tom clicked his fingers, a fire burst into life in the grate, and he bowed himself out of the room.  

“Sit down, Harry, Jacob,” said Fudge, indicating a chair by the fire. The two boys sat down. Harry didn’t dare to look at the minister, but Jacob did, Jacob was in awe. Fudge took off his pinstriped cloak and tossed it aside, then hitched up the trousers of his bottle-green suit and sat down opposite the twins  

“I am Cornelius Fudge. The Minister of Magic.”  

“Oh, nice to know. It’s not like everyone talks about you” Jacob muttered only to be elbowed like Harry.  Tom the innkeeper reappeared, wearing an apron over his nightshirt and bearing a tray of tea and crumpets. He placed the tray on a table between Fudge, Jacob and Harry and left the parlor, closing the door behind him.  

“Well, Harry, Jacob, you’ve had us all in a right flap, I don’t mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle’s house like that! I’d started to think … but you’re safe, and that’s what matters. Eat, boys, you look dead on your feet. Now then … You two will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured, and her memory has been modified. She has no recollection of the incident at all. So that’s that, and no harm done......... Ah, you’re worrying about the reaction of your aunt and uncle? Well, I won’t deny that they are extremely angry, Harry, Jacob, but they are prepared to take you back next summer as long as you stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays.”  

“We always stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas and Easter holidays, and I don’t ever want to go back to Privet Drive.” Harry said, Jacob rolled his eyes at his twin.   

“Now, now, I’m sure you’ll feel differently once you’ve calmed down, they are your family, after all, and I’m sure you are fond of each other — er — very deep down. So all that remain is to decide where you’re going to spend the last three weeks of your vacation. I suggest you take a room here at the Leaky Cauldron and —”  

“Hang on, What about our punishment?”  

“Punishment?”  

“I broke the law! The Decree for the Restriction of Underage Wizardry!”  

“Oh, my dear boy, we’re not going to punish you for a little thing like that! It was an accident! We don’t send people to Azkaban just for blowing up their aunts!”  

“Last year, We got an official warning just because a house-elf smashed a pudding in our uncle’s house! The Ministry of Magic said we’d be expelled from Hogwarts if there was any more magic there!”  

“Circumstances change, Harry, Jacob. … We have to take into account … in the present climate … Surely you don’t want to be expelled?”  

“Of course we don’t,”   

“Well then, what’s all the fuss about?”  

“Now, have a crumpet, Harry, while I go and see if Tom’s got a room for you.”  

Fudge strode out of the parlor and Harry stared after him. Jacob rolled his eyes, knowing Harry was not going to let him see Draco at all this summer. Fudge came back, accompanied by Tom the innkeeper. “Room eleven’s free, Harry, Jacob,” said Fudge. “I think you’ll be very comfortable, two singles.  Just one thing, and I’m sure you’ll understand … I don’t want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley. And you’re to be back here before dark each night. Sure, you’ll understand. Tom will be keeping an eye on you for me.” Jacob nods, sighing. There has to be a barber here somewhere.  “Okay, but why — ?” said Harry slowly.  “Don’t want to lose you again, do we?” said Fudge with a hearty laugh. “No, no … best we know where you are. … I mean …” Fudge cleared his throat loudly and picked up his pinstriped cloak.  

“Well, I’ll be off, plenty to do, you know. …”  

“Have you had any luck with Black yet?”   

“What’s that? Oh, you’ve heard — well, no, not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. The Azkaban guards have never yet failed … and they are angrier than I’ve ever seen them.”  

“So, I’ll say good-bye.”  

“Er — Minister? Can I ask you something?”  

“Certainly,”   

“Well, third years at Hogwarts are allowed to visit Hogsmeade, but our aunt and uncle didn’t sign the permission forms. D’you think you could — ?”  

“Ah, No, no, I’m very sorry but as I’m not your parent or guardian —”  

“But you’re the Minister of Magic, if you gave me permission —”  

“No, I’m sorry, Harry, but rules are rules, perhaps you’ll be able to visit Hogsmeade next year. In fact, I think it’s best if you don’t … yes … well, I’ll be off. Enjoy your stay, Harry, Jacob”  

And with a last smile and shake of Harry’s and Jacob’s hands, Fudge left the room. Tom now moved forward, beaming at Harry. “If you’ll follow me, Mr. And Mr. Potter,” he said, “I’ve already taken your things up. …” Jacob and Harry followed Tom up a handsome wooden staircase to a door with a brass number eleven on it, which Tom unlocked and opened for them. Inside was two very comfortable-looking beds, some highly polished oak furniture, a cheerfully crackling fire and, perched on top of the wardrobe —  

“Hedwig!”   

“Mouse!”  

The snowy owl clicked her beak and fluttered down onto Harry’s arm. Jacob rushed over and grabbed his rat, who quickly climbed into his pocket.  “Very smart owl you’ve got there,” chuckled Tom. “Arrived about five minutes after you did with that rat on her back. If there’s anything you need, Mr. And Mr. Potter, don’t hesitate to ask.” He gave another bow and left. The two boys chose a bed and went to bed.   

It took a couple of days for Jacob to get used to being able to do whatever and eat whatever he wanted every day, but he loved it and couldn’t wait until this was his life.  Jacob and Harry ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron together. But after breakfast is when they’d split up to go do their own exploration of Diagon ally and all it shops. Jacob spent the days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly coloured umbrellas outside cafes, free from Harry’s looks and judgement of his thoughts. Neither of the twins had to do their homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now Jacob did it in one of the cafes. After the twin’s worked together to fill each other’s money bags up with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from his vault at Gringotts, Jacob started going to go shopping. He got a haircut, his hair still had the same style, but it was no longer a mess or in his eyes. He bought a lot of new clothes, no more of Dudley’s old clothes with frogs on them, as well as getting new robes. He bought all the things he needed for his Hogwarts subjects. He even bought his Christmas presents while he had time and some things for Mouse.  On the last day of the holidays, Jacob came back from a day of freedom to his freedom ruined. The Weasleys, Hermione, Lisa and Aurora had found Harry while he was out window shopping, and he had brought them back to the place the twins were staying at.  Hermione had a big orange cat on her shoulder that seemed to hate Ron’s rat but not Jacobs. Jacob knew this meant one thing.   

“Back to Hogwarts we go tomorrow”  

Breakfast the next morning was chaotic, and Jacob hated it, Lisa, a fellow Slytherin, being there was the only good part of it. But getting ready to leave was even more chaotic with everyone’s trunks and cages being put into the back of ministry cars that would take them all to king's cross station. The journey to King’s Cross was very uneventful compared with the trip on the Knight Bus. The Ministry of Magic cars seemed almost ordinary. They reached King’s Cross with twenty minutes to spare; the Ministry drivers found them trolleys, unloaded their trunks, touched their hats in salute to Mr. Weasley, and drove away, somehow managing to jump to the head of an unmoving line at the traffic lights. Mr Weasley had them go through the wall in twos. Harry forced Jacob to find a compartment with him, Hermione, Aurora and Ron. Lisa has also been sat with them but as soon as the train started to move, she got up and left. However, someone else was in the compartment as well, a sleeping man. The stranger was wearing an extremely shabby set of wizard’s robes that had been darned in several places. He looked ill and exhausted. Though quite young, his light brown hair was flecked with gray.  

“Who d’you reckon he is?” Ron hissed as they sat down and slid the door shut, taking the seats farthest away from the window. “Professor R. J. Lupin,” whispered Hermione at once. “How d’you know that?” Ron asked. “It’s on his case,” she replied, pointing at the luggage rack over the man’s head, where there was a small, battered case held together with a large quantity of neatly knotted string. The name Professor R. J. Lupin was stamped across one corner in peeling letters. “Wonder what he teaches?” said Ron, frowning at Professor Lupin’s pallid profile. “Oh, I wonder Weasley. It’s not like there's only one vacancy” Jacob said rolling his eyes. “Well, I hope he’s up to it,” said Ron doubtfully. “He looks like one good hex would finish him off, doesn’t he? Anyway …” He turned to Harry. “What were you going to tell us?”  

Harry explained all about Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s argument and the warning Mr. Weasley had just given him. When he’d finished, Ron looked thunderstruck, Aurora looked terrified, Hermione had her hands over her mouth and Jacob didn’t really care, he just kept staring out of the window.  “Sirius Black escaped to come after you two? Oh, Harry, oh Jacob… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go looking for trouble, Harry and Jacob..... Jacob?” Hermione said as she noticed Jacob wasn’t showing any emotion. Everyone turned to look at him as he looked at them. “What?” He asked. “What’s your thoughts on this? Are you ok?” Aurora asked. “Yeah, I’m ok. I don’t really.” he said, shrugging. This seemed to hit the wrong nerve in Harry as he got really angry. “You don’t care! The guy who got our parents killed is on the loose and is coming after us and you don’t care!” Harry shouts. “Yeah. Why should I care? He has done nothing to me. He told a dude our location and that dude killed two people who i have no memory of. I don’t care. Now can I watch the scenery in peace, or shall I go find Draco?” Jacob asked glaring at Harry “Get out” Harry said. Jacob smirked grabbing his stuff “Gladly” with that, he left.   

Jacob made it to the Slytherin compartments, but Draco and gang weren’t there, so Jacob put his trunk away and went looking for them.  That’s when the train suddenly stopped and all the lamps went out.  There was a squeaking sound in the air. There was a soft, crackling noise, and a shivering light filled the compartment. Suddenly a cloaked figure floated over. Its face was completely hidden beneath its hood. Jacob’s eyes darted downward, and what he saw made his stomach contract. There was a hand protruding from the cloak, and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water. But it was visible only for a split second. As though the creature beneath the cloak sensed Jacob’s gaze, the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak. And then the thing beneath the hood, whatever it was, drew a long, slow, rattling breath, as though it were trying to suck something more than air from its surroundings. An intense cold swept over him. Jacob felt his own breath catch in his chest. The cold went deeper than his skin. It was inside his chest; it was inside his very heart. Jacob’s eyes rolled up into his head. He couldn’t see. He was drowning in cold. There was a rushing in his ears as though of water. He was being dragged downward, the roaring growing louder ....... And then, from far away, he heard screaming, terrible, terrified, pleading screams. He wanted to help whoever it was, he tried to move his arms, but couldn’t … a thick white fog was swirling around him, inside him —  

“-cob? Jacob? Jacob? This is not doing good for the slytherin reputation. You can’t nap in the hallway. You look very pale. Are you sick? Are those muggles killing you?”  

Jacob woke up to find Draco, Pansy, Goyle and Crabbe standing around him, staring down at him. “Oh, it’s nice to hear your so concerned. But wipe that worry off your beautiful face before it wrickless, dray. I’m fine. Didn't you? Me and Harry blew up our aunt marge over the summer. I haven’t been with the muggles for weeks” Jacob said and had goyle pull him up. “I only worry about you, Jay.” Draco said smirking at Jacob before saying “back to the compartment.” So, they all went back to the compartment and spent the rest of the train ride talking about their summers.   

“You aren’t allowed to hogsmeade”  

“We had one day left to be the magicalless freak they want and then we could have gotten them signed but harry had to ruin it and show off his magic”  

At long last, the train stopped at Hogsmeade station, and there was a great scramble to get outside; owls hooted, cats meowed, and Neville’s pet toad croaked loudly from under his hat. It was freezing on the tiny platform; rain was driving down in icy sheets. “Firs’ years this way!” called a familiar voice. Jacob and Draco followed the rest of the school along the platform and out onto a rough mud track, where at least a hundred stagecoaches awaited the remaining students, each pulled by an invisible horse, because when they climbed inside and shut the door, the coach set off all by itself, bumping and swaying in procession. The coach smelled faintly of mold and straw, Jacob still didn’t feel right.  As the carriage trundled toward a pair of magnificent wrought iron gates, flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars,  two more towering, hooded creatures (Draco had told him they were dementors), standing guard on either side. A wave of cold sickness threatened to engulf him again; he leaned back into the lumpy seat and closed his eyes until they had passed the gates. The carriage picked up speed on the long, sloping drive up to the castle; At last, the carriage swayed to a halt.  

  “You fainted, Harry Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?” Draco said as everyone got of their carriages, Jacob would have elbowed him if he didn’t feel like he was about to collapse.  “Shove off, Malfoy,” said Ron, whose jaw was clenched. “Did you faint as well, Weasley?” said Malfoy loudly. “Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?” “Is there a problem?” said a mild voice. Professor Lupin had just gotten out of the next carriage. Draco gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the suitcase. With a tiny hint of sarcasm in his voice, he said, “Oh, no — er — Professor,” then he smirked at Crabbe, Jacob, Pansy, Goyle and led them up the steps into the castle.  The door into the Great Hall stood open at the right; Jacob followed the crowd toward it, but had barely glimpsed the enchanted ceiling, which was black and cloudy tonight, when a voice called, “Potter! Potter! Granger! I want to see you both!” Jacob, Harry and Hermione turned around, surprised. Professor McGonagall was calling over the heads of the crowd. She was a stern-looking witch who wore her hair in a tight bun; her sharp eyes were framed with square spectacles. “There’s no need to look so worried — I just want a word in my office,” she told them. “Move along there, Weasley, Parkinson, Goyle, Crabbe and Malfoy.” The trio’s friends quickly walked off as Professor McGonagall ushered Harry, Jacob and Hermione away from the chattering crowd; they accompanied her across the entrance hall, up the marble staircase, and along a corridor.  

Once they were in her office, a small room with a large, welcoming fire, Professor McGonagall motioned Harry, Jacob and Hermione to sit down. She settled herself behind her desk and said abruptly, “Professor Lupin sent an owl ahead to say that you were taken ill on the train, Harry. Is that the same for you Jacob as you look very very pale and sickly?” Before the twins could reply, there was a soft knock on the door and Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, came bustling in and began fussing over the twins.  “I suppose you’ve been doing something dangerous again?” she said.  “It was dementors, Poppy,” said Professor McGonagall. They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly. “Setting dementors around a school, hey won’t be the last ones who collapses. Yes, they’re all clammy. Terrible things, they are, and the effect they have on people who are already delicate —” she muttered, pushing back Harry’s hair and feeling his forehead, then doing the same to Jacob. “I’m not delicate!” said Harry crossly. “Of course you’re not,” said Madam Pomfrey absentmindedly, now taking pulse. “What do they need? Bed rest? Should he perhaps spend tonight in the hospital wing?” said Professor McGonagall crisply. “I’m fine!” said Harry, jumping up.  “I’m good with bed rest just tell Draco it’s somethingelse” Jacob mumbled. “Well, they should have some chocolate and take it steady” said Madam Pomfrey, who was now trying to peer into Harry’s eyes. “I’ve already had some, Professor Lupin gave me some.” said Harry.  “Did he, now? So we’ve finally got a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who knows his remedies?” said Madam Pomfrey approvingly as she gave Jacob a bar of choclate. Jacob slowly starts eating and starts to feel better.  “Are you sure you feel all right, Potters?” Professor McGonagall said sharply. “Yes,” said Harry. “Better, now that I’ve had some chocolate” Jacob said.  “Very well. Kindly wait outside while I have a quick word with Miss Granger about her course schedule, then we can go down to the feast together.” Jacob and Harry went back into the corridor with Madam Pomfrey, who left for the hospital wing, muttering to herself. They had to wait only a few minutes; then Hermione emerged looking very happy about something, followed by Professor McGonagall, and the four of them made their way back down the marble staircase to the Great Hall.  

It was a sea of pointed black hats; each of the long House tables was lined with students, their faces glimmering by the light of thousands of candles, which were floating over the tables in midair. Professor Flitwick, who was a tiny little wizard with a shock of white hair, was carrying an ancient hat and a three-legged stool out of the hall. New students at Hogwarts were sorted into Houses by trying on the Sorting Hat, which shouted out the House they were best suited to (Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, or Slytherin). Professor McGonagall strode off toward her empty seat at the staff table, and Harry, Jacob and Hermione went and sat at their house table. People looked around at them as they passed along the back of the hall, and a few of them pointed at Harry. Professor Dumbledore stood up to speak.   

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. … As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. ....... They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks, It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors. On a happier note, I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” T  

here was some scattered, rather unenthusiastic applause. Only those who had been in the compartment on the train with Professor Lupin clapped hard. Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes. Professor Snape, the Potions master, was staring along the staff table at Professor Lupin.   

“As to our second new appointment, Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”  

“Their letting that crazy man teach.” Jacob whispered as the hall filled with Applause.  

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance, Let the feast begin!”  

The golden plates and goblets before them filled suddenly with food and drink. Jacob, suddenly ravenous, helped himself to everything he could reach and began to eat. It was a delicious feast; the hall echoed with talk, laughter, and the clatter of knives and forks. At long last, when the last morsels of pumpkin tart had melted from the golden platters, Dumbledore gave the word that it was time for them all to go to bed.   

“Jacob, what subjects are you doing again? I am doing C.O.M.C. and Arthmacy.”  

“I am taking ancient ruins and divination. Good luck with Harry, Dray”  

The next day, the Slytherins seemed to have forgot that Jacob had also fainted as they were all laughing and bulling Harry about him fainting when the Dementors were near, but Harry took the bullying out on Jacob, so the twins got into an argument on the way to divination. The journey through the castle to North Tower was a long one. Two years at Hogwarts hadn’t taught them everything about the castle, and they had never been inside North Tower before. They had to walk through several corridors and up several long staircases. They had to talk to several new portraits, like Sir Cadogan. It was a very long walk, especially when Harry and Jacob were fighting the whole way.  Finally, the argument stopped as they climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was already assembled. There were no doors off this landing, but a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on the celling.  “ ‘Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher,’ ” Harry read. “How’re we supposed to get up there?” As though in answer to his question, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder descended right at Harry’s feet. Everyone got quiet and one by one started climbing up the stairs.   

The divination classroom didn’t look like a classroom at all; it looked more like a cross between someone’s attic and an old-fashioned tea shop. At least twenty small, circular tables were crammed inside it, all surrounded by chintz armchairs and fat little poufs. Everything was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. It was stiflingly warm, and the fire that was burning under the crowded mantelpiece was giving off a heavy, sickly sort of perfume as it heated a large copper kettle. The shelves running around the circular walls were crammed with dusty-looking feathers, stubs of candles, many packs of tattered playing cards, countless silvery crystal balls, and a huge array of teacups.   

“Welcome, how nice to see you in the physical world at last. Sit, my children, sit”  

Everyone quickly found a sit. Jacob ended up sharing a round table with Ron, Harry, Hermione and Aurora which was awkward. The teacher moved into the firelight, and they saw that she was very thin; her large glasses magnified her eyes to several times their natural size, and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings.  

“Welcome to Divination, My name is Professor Trelawney. You may not have seen me before. I find that descending too often into the hustle and bustle of the main school clouds my Inner Eye.”  

Nobody said anything to this extraordinary pronouncement.   

“So you have chosen to study Divination, the most difficult of all magical arts. I must warn you at the outset that if you do not have the Sight, there is very little I will be able to teach you. Books can take you only so far in this field. … Many witches and wizards, talented though they are in the area of loud bangs and smells and sudden disappearings, are yet unable to penetrate the veiled mysteries of the future, It is a Gift granted to few. You, boy, Is your grandmother well?”  

“I think so,” said Neville tremulously.  

“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you, dear, we will be covering the basic methods of Divination this year. The first term will be devoted to reading the tea leaves. Next term we shall progress to palmistry. By the way, my dear, beware a red-haired man.”  

Parvati gave a startled look at Ron, who was right behind her, and edged her chair away from him.  

“In the second term, we shall progress to the crystal ball — if we have finished with fire omens, that is. Unfortunately, classes will be disrupted in February by a nasty bout of flu. I myself will lose my voice. And around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever. I wonder, dear, if you could pass me the largest silver teapot?”  

Lavender, looking relieved, stood up, took an enormous teapot from the shelf, and put it down on the table in front of Professor Trelawney.  

“Thank you, my dear. Incidentally, that thing you are dreading — it will happen on Friday the sixteenth of October. Now, I want you all to divide into pairs. Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink, drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing. Oh, and dear, after you’ve broken your first cup, would you be so kind as to select one of the blue patterned ones? I’m rather attached to the pink.”  

Sure enough, Neville had no sooner reached the shelf of teacups when there was a tinkle of breaking China. Professor Trelawney swept over to him holding a dustpan and brush and said, “One of the blue ones, then, dear, if you wouldn’t mind … thank you. …” Jacob and Aurora ended up being paired together and Hermione was pared with another Gryffindor.   When Jacob and Aurora had had their teacups filled, they went back to their table and tried to drink the scalding tea quickly. They swilled the dregs around as Professor Trelawney had instructed, then drained the cups and swapped over.  

“What can you see, Jacob?”  

“So..... You’ll meet a new friend soon I think. What about me?”  

“ohhh goodie. I love new friends”  

“my cup”  

“oh yeah..... awe It’s a doggy!”  

That got Trelawney's attention, especially as Harry’s cup had the exact same shape. She took both cups into her hands and examined them. Everyone went quiet to watch.    

“Let me see that, my dear, The falcon … my dear, you have a deadly enemy. The club … an attack. Dear, dear, theses' are not happy cups. … The skull … danger in your path, my dears. … My dear boys … my poor, dear boys … no … it is kinder not to say … no … don’t ask me. …”  

“What is it, Professor?” said Dean Thomas at once. Everyone had got to their feet, and slowly they crowded around the table, pressing close to Professor Trelawney’s chair to get a good look at Harry’s and Jacob’s cup.  

“My dear, you have the Grim.”  

“The what?” said Harry. “Is that the dog, Aurora saw?” Jacob asked, not bothered one bit.  Dean Thomas shrugged at him and Lavender Brown looked puzzled, but nearly everybody else clapped their hands to their mouths in horror.  

“The Grim, my dears, the Grim! The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! My dear boys, it is an omen — the worst omen — of death!”  

“Guess we are going to nearly die this year like every year, Harry. Better get really for that” Jacob said rolling his eyes. Lavender Brown clapped her hands to her mouth too. Everyone was looking at Harry and Jacob, everyone except Hermione, who had gotten up and moved around to the back of Professor Trelawney’s chair. “I don’t think it looks like a Grim,” she said flatly. Professor Trelawney surveyed Hermione with mounting dislike.  

“You’ll forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I perceive very little aura around you. Very little receptivity to the resonances of the future.”  

Seamus Finnigan was tilting his head from side to side. “It looks like a Grim if you do this,” he said, with his eyes almost shut, “but it looks more like a donkey from here,” he said, leaning to the left. “When you’ve all finished deciding whether we are going to die or not!” said Harry, taking even himself by surprise. Now nobody seemed to want to look at him.  

“I think we will leave the lesson here for today, Yes … please pack away your things. …”  

Silently the class took their teacups back to Professor Trelawney, packed away their books, and closed their bags.   

“Until we meet again, fair fortune be yours. Oh, and dear, you’ll be late next time, so mind you work extra-hard to catch up.”  

Harry, Jacob, Aurora, Ron, and Hermione descended Professor Trelawney’s ladder and the winding stair in silence, then set off for Professor McGonagall’s Transfiguration lesson. It took them so long to find her classroom that, early as they had left Divination, they were only just in time. Jacob happily moved away from the Gryffindors and went and sat with Draco. The rest of the class kept shooting furtive glances at him and Harry, as though they were about to drop dead at any moment. They hardly heard what Professor McGonagall was telling them about Animagi (wizards who could transform at will into animals) and wasn’t even watching when she transformed herself in front of their eyes into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around her eyes. “Really, what has got into you all today?” said Professor McGonagall, turning back into herself with a faint pop, and staring around at them all. “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s not got applause from a class.”Everybody’s heads turned toward Harry and Jacob again, but nobody spoke. Then Hermione raised her hand.  

“Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and —”  

“Ah, of course, There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”  

“Me and Jacob” said Harry, finally. “I see,” said Professor McGonagall. “Then you should know, Potters, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues —” Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white. She went on, more calmly, “Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney —” She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of fact tone, “You look in excellent health to me, Potters, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.” Hermione laughed. When the Transfiguration class had finished, they joined the crowd thundering toward the Great Hall for lunch.  

“Guess I'm not going to die at the end of the year. So, you are stuck with my pretty face, dray”  

“I wouldn’t change it for the world”  

Jacob had ancient runes in the afternoon while Draco had Care Of Magical Creatures so Jacob wasn’t there when it happened. But Draco told Jacob all about Buckbeak and the attack and let's just say Jacob had a lot to say about it. The Golden quad had to hold him back from murdering Hagrid.   

“YOU CRAZY LUNATIC! HOW CAN YOU BRING THAT THING NEAR CREATURES? ITS EXTREMLY DANGARUS. THE MINISTRY HAS GIVEN IT THE HIGHTEST RATING FOR A REASON. IT SHOULD NOT BE BROUGHT INTO A SCHOOL AND CHILDREN DEFFENITLY SHOULDN’T BE NEAR IT. YOU DESERVE TO GO BACK TO AZKABAN YU ROTTEN TOAD. DRACO IS STUCK IN THE HOSPITAL WING BECAUSE THAT MONSTER BROKE HIS ARM. HE SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN PUT IN THIS SITUATION. ARE YOU NEED QUALIFIED TO BE A TEACHER? SHOULD YOU EVEN BE ON HOGWARTS GROUND? YOU ARE A DANGER TO THE CHILDREN!”  

Draco didn’t reappear in classes until late on Thursday morning, when the Slytherins and Gryffindors were halfway through double Potions. He swaggered into the dungeon; his right arm covered in bandages and bound up in a sling. “How is it, Draco? Does it hurt much?” simpered Pansy Parkinson. “Yeah,” said Draco, putting on a brave sort of grimace but he winked at Jacob. “Settle down, settle down,” said Professor Snape idly. They were making a new potion today, a Shrinking Solution. Draco set up his cauldron right next to Harry and Ron, so that they were preparing their ingredients on the same table. Jacob instantly found out why he did this, to have snape make them to everything for him, like cutting up his ingredients. It was kind to fun to watch; Jacob had to admit.   

“Did you enjoy the show, Jay?”  

“You are always my favourite show, dray, and you know it”  

Professor Lupin wasn’t there when they arrived at his first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. They all sat down, took out their books, quills, and parchment, and were talking when he finally entered the room. Lupin smiled vaguely and placed his tatty old briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was as shabby as ever but looked healthier than he had on the train, as though he had had a few square meals.  

“Good afternoon, Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today’s will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands.”  

A few curious looks were exchanged as the class put away their books. They had never had a practical Defence Against the Dark Arts before, unless you counted the memorable class last year when their old teacher had brought a cageful of pixies to class and set them loose.  

“Right then, If you’d follow me.”  

Puzzled but interested, the class got to its feet and followed Professor Lupin out of the classroom. He led them along the deserted corridor and around a corner, where the first thing they saw was Peeves the Poltergeist, who was floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum. Peeves didn’t look up until Professor Lupin was two feet away; then he wiggled his curly-toed feet and broke into song. “Loony, loopy Lupin,” Peeves sang. “Loony, loopy Lupin, loony, loopy Lupin —” Rude and unmanageable as he almost always was, Peeves usually showed some respect toward the teachers. Everyone looked quickly at Professor Lupin to see how he would take this; to their surprise, he was still smiling.  

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves, Mr. Filch won’t be able to get in to his brooms.”  

Filch was the Hogwarts caretaker, a bad-tempered, failed wizard who waged a constant war against the students and, indeed, Peeves. However, Peeves paid no attention to Professor Lupin’s words, except to blow a loud wet raspberry. Professor Lupin gave a small sigh and took out his wand.  

“This is a useful little spell, Please watch closely.”  

He raised the wand to shoulder height, said, “Waddiwasi!” and pointed it at Peeves. With the force of a bullet, the wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole and straight down Peeves’s left nostril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.“Cool, sir!” said Dean Thomas in amazement.  

“Thank you, Dean, Shall we proceed?”  

They set off again, the class looking at shabby Professor Lupin with increased respect. He led them down a second corridor and stopped, right outside the staffroom door. “Inside, please,” said Professor Lupin, opening it and standing back. The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering and there was a nasty sneer playing around his mouth. As Professor Lupin came in and made to close the door behind him, Snape said, “Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this.” He got to his feet and strode past the class, his black robes billowing behind him. At the doorway he turned on his heel and said, “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.” Neville went scarlet.  Professor Lupin had raised his eyebrows.  

“I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably.”  

Neville’s face went, if possible, even redder. Snape’s lip curled, but he left, shutting the door with a snap. “Now, then,” said Professor Lupin, beckoning the class toward the end of the room, where there was nothing but an old wardrobe where the teachers kept their spare robes. As Professor Lupin went to stand next to it, the wardrobe gave a sudden wobble, banging off the wall.  

“Nothing to worry about, There’s a boggart in there.”  

Most people seemed to feel that this was something to worry about. Neville gave Professor Lupin a look of pure terror, and Seamus Finnigan eyed the now rattling doorknob apprehensively.  

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces, Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks — I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. This one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. So, the first question we must ask ourselves is, what is a boggart?”  

Hermione put up her hand. “It’s a shape-shifter,” she said. “It can take the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most.”  

“Couldn’t have put it better myself, So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means, that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”  

“Er — because there are so many of us, it won’t know what shape it should be?” Harry said, sounding very confused. Jacob rolled his eyes.   

“Precisely, It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake — tried to frighten two people at once and turned himself into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is laughter. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please … riddikulus!”  

“Riddikulus!” said the class together.  

“Good, very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.”  

The wardrobe shook again, though not as much as Neville, who walked forward as though he were heading for the gallows.  

“Right, Neville, first things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world? Didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry,”  

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.” Nearly everyone laughed. Even Neville grinned apologetically. Professor Lupin, however, looked thoughtful. Jacob had to hide his anger about that fact. Even if Snape is his head of house and has been very nice to him, no child should be terrified of their teacher. What has snape done to make Nevile that scared that Snape is his worse fear?   

“Professor Snape … hmmm … Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?”  

“Er — yes, But — I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either.”  

“No, no, you misunderstand me, I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?”  

"Well … always the same hat. A tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress.... green, normally … and sometimes a fox-fur scarf.”  

“And a handbag?”   

“A big red one,”  

“Right then, Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind’s eye?”  

“Yes,”  

“When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape And you will raise your wand — thus — and cry ‘Riddikulus’ — and concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag.”  

There was a great shout of laughter. The wardrobe wobbled more violently.  

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn, I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical. …......Everyone ready? Neville, we’re going to back away, Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward. … Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —”  

They all retreated, backed against the walls, leaving Neville alone beside the wardrobe. He looked pale and frightened, but he had pushed up the sleeves of his robes and was holding his wand ready.  

“On the count of three, Neville, One — two — three — now!”  

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Professor Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Hook-nosed and menacing, Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing wordlessly. Snape was bearing down upon him, reaching inside his robes. “R — r — riddikulus!” squeaked Neville. There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled; he was wearing a long, lace-trimmed dress and a towering hat topped with a moth-eaten vulture, and he was swinging a huge crimson handbag. There was a roar of laughter; the boggart paused, confused, and Professor Lupin shouted, “Parvati! Forward!” Parvati walked forward, her face set. Snape rounded on her. There was another crack, and where he had stood was a bloodstained, bandaged mummy; its sightless face was turned to Parvati and it began to walk toward her very slowly, dragging its feet, its stiff arms rising — “Riddikulus!” cried Parvati. A bandage unravelled at the mummy’s feet; it became entangled, fell face forward, and its head rolled off. “Seamus!” roared Professor Lupin. Seamus darted past Parvati. Crack! Where the mummy had been was a woman with floor-length black hair and a skeletal, greentinged face — a banshee. She opened her mouth wide and an unearthly sound filled the room, a long, wailing shriek that made the hair on Harry’s head stand on end — “Riddikulus!” shouted Seamus.The banshee made a rasping noise and clutched her throat; her voice was gone. Crack! The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle, then — crack! — became a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before — crack! — becoming a single, bloody eyeball. “It’s confused!” shouted Lupin. “We’re getting there! Dean!” Dean hurried forward. Crack! The eyeball became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab. “Riddikulus!” yelled Dean. There was a snap, and the hand was trapped in a mousetrap. “Excellent! Ron, you next!” Ron leapt forward. Crack! Quite a few people screamed. A giant spider, six feet tall and covered in hair, was advancing on Ron, clicking its pincers menacingly. For a moment, Harry thought Ron had frozen. Then — “Riddikulus!” bellowed Ron, and the spider’s legs vanished; it rolled over and over; Lavender Brown squealed and ran out of its way and it came to a halt at Jacob’s feet. He raised his wand, ready, as the Boggart turned into ..... a happy scene. It was a scene of Harry with the Hagrid pointed out to be their mum and dad from the photo album. Everyone else in the room looked around confused but Jacob didn’t, Jacob understood what was happening because he wasn’t there. His fear was being forgotten and left behind. He took a deep breath and casts the spell “Riddikulus!”.  A copy of Jacob suddenly appeared with the family, Jacob smiled and moved out of the way. The bogart floated over to Harry but before he could do anything...   

“Here!” shouted Professor Lupin suddenly, hurrying forward. Crack! The happy family had vanished. For a second, everyone looked wildly around to see where it was. Then they saw a silvery-white orb hanging in the air in front of Lupin, who said, “Riddikulus!” almost lazily. Crack! “Forward, Neville, and finish him off!” said Lupin as the boggart landed on the floor as a cockroach. Crack! Snape was back. This time Neville charged forward looking determined. “Riddikulus!” he shouted, and they had a split second’s view of Snape in his lacy dress before Neville let out a great “Ha!” of laughter, and the boggart exploded, burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone. “Excellent!” cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. “Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone. … Let me see … five points to Gryffindor and Slytherin for every person who tackled the boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice … and five each to Hermione and Harry.”  

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Harry.  

“You and Hermione answered my questions correctly at the start of the class, Harry, Very well, everyone, an excellent lesson. Homework, kindly read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me … to be handed in on Monday. That will be all.”  

Talking excitedly, the class left the staffroom and headed for their next class. Jacob didn’t know how to feel about Lupin’s teaching. He was a good teacher, but he should have got ministry approval on the boggart before using it and they should have been taught the theory first at least. Harry did seem to understand Jacob’s point of view and the two seemed to have weekly fights about it that ended with the two spending less time together.  

In no time at all, Defense Against the Dark Arts had become most people’s favourite class. Only Draco Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins had anything bad to say about Professor Lupin. “Look at the state of his robes,” Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. “He dresses like our old house-elf.” But no one else cared that Professor Lupin’s robes were patched and frayed. Jacob just had mixed feelings about his lesson plans. His next few lessons were just as interesting as the first. After boggarts, they studied Red Caps, nasty little goblinlike creatures that lurked wherever there had been bloodshed: in the dungeons of castles and the potholes of deserted battlefields, waiting to bludgeon those who had gotten lost. From Red Caps they moved on to kappas, creepy water-dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys, with webbed hands itching to strangle unwitting waders in their ponds. Other classes weren’t going as well. Snape was in a particularly vindictive mood these days, and no one was in any doubt why. The story of the boggart assuming Snape’s shape, and the way that Neville had dressed it in his grandmother’s clothes, had travelled through the school like wildfire. Snape didn’t seem to find it funny. His eyes flashed menacingly at the very mention of Professor Lupin’s name, and he was bullying Neville worse than ever. Jacob was also growing to dread the hours he spent in Professor Trelawney’s stifling tower room, deciphering lopsided shapes and symbols, trying to ignore the way Professor Trelawney’s enormous eyes filled with tears every time she looked at him. He couldn’t like Professor Trelawney, even though she was treated with respect bordering on reverence by many of the class. Jacob was only surviving in that class because he had tricked the teacher into believing his observational skills were him having the sight. He didn’t have the sight. He just noticed things other people did not which let him make very accurate predictions about their future that seemed to come true.   

But everyone got excitement as October arrived because that meant two things. Quidditch and Hogsmeade. October meant the quidditch teams could start practicing for the very first quidditch match and they seemed to be doing that a lot. Every time was out practicing nearly every night. The only team that wasn’t were the Slytherin's because of Draco’s arm but the first march is slytherin vs Gryffindor, so Jacob didn’t understand what was going to happen. But everyone was more excited for Hogsmeade. On Halloween 1993, the first Hogsmeade trip of the year was planned to take place. Everyone was excited to go. Everyone but Harry and Jacob who weren’t allowed to go because their forms weren’t signed.   

On Halloween morning, Jacob awoke with the rest pf his house and went down to breakfast, feeling thoroughly depressed, though doing his best to act normally. “What are you going to do today, Jacob?” Pansy asked as they had their breakfast. “Propbally catch up on homework and some reading. Bad things seem to always happen to Harry on Halloween and I always get roped in so I’m just gonna wait for that to happen.” Jacob replied, trying not to sound depressing. “Well that boring” Draco said, rolling his eyes. Jacob smirked and looked at him “Don’t worry, Dray. You’ll be on my mind all day” Jacob replied and before Draco could reply Blase spoke “Will you two spot flirting which each other? It’s annoying”. Afte breakfast, Jacob accompanied them to the entrance hall, where Filch, the caretaker, was standing inside the front doors, checking off names against a long list, peering suspiciously into every face, and making sure that no one was sneaking out who shouldn’t be going. After saying bye to his friends, Jacob said goodbye to his friends and went to the libaray where he spent the rest of his day until everyone returned for the Halloween feast.   

“Did you and your twin get attacked today?”  

“Surprisingly, nothing has gone wrong today”  

It seemed Jacob spoke to soon though for while everyone was at dinner, the portrait of the fat lady (the entrance to the Gryffindor tower) was attacked and turned to steads by Sirius Black. Everyone was forced to have a sleep over in the living room with the Prefects and Head students watching them while the teachers went to look for Sirius Black. But they were to slow, and he got away.   

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. 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. The worst thing was that Teachers kept finding excuses to walk along corridors with Jacob or with Harry. None of the teachers wanted either of the twins to be alone at any moment because Black being after them. Jacob still didn’t care through and just carried on with his life, though trying to escape teachers were now added to his list of things to do. But Jacob finally got closer about how Slytherin were going to play when Draco couldn’t the day before the first match of the season (the first Saturday in November). They weren’t going to be playing. They had swapped games with Hufflepuff so it would be Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor this game meaning slytherin vs Gryffindor will be the last match of the season.   

“Granger, I’m sure you have noticed as well after that lesson with Snape as substitute so Let’s talk about it”  

“what do you think I’ve noticed, Potter?”  

“That Lupin is a werewolf”  

“...... Yeah, I noticed that too”  

The day of the quidditch match arrived on day covered by a horrible storm. If you didn’t know the time, you’d think it was the middle of the night it was that dark and there was so much rain. Jacob was surprised the match wasn’t cancelled all together.  The wind was so strong that the teams staggered sideways as they walked out onto the field. The captains walked up to each other and shook hands; Cedric Diggory smiled at Wood but Wood now looked as though he had lockjaw and merely nodded. Jacob saw Madam Hooch’s mouth form the words, “Mount your brooms.” and the players got on the brooms. Madam Hooch put her whistle to her lips and gave it a blast that sounded shrill and distant — they were off. You could hardly see the players for the rain, clouds and darkness. It was hard to know what was going on and everyone was getting soaked, even if the crowds were under umbrellas. Jacob lost track of time. The sky was getting darker, as though night had decided to come early.  With the first flash of lightning came the sound of Madam Hooch’s whistle; Oliver wood had called for time out.  

But the game started up again a few minutes later. There was another clap of thunder, followed immediately by forked lightning. This was getting more and more dangerous. Harry and Cedric Diggory suddenly pelting up the field, they must have seen the snitch.   

But that’s when the dementor’s decided to make their presence known. A horribly familiar wave of cold swept over Jacob, inside him, he fell faint. Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head  

… a woman …  

“Not Harry, not Jacob, please not Harry and Jacob!”  

“Stand aside, you silly girl … stand aside, now. …”  

“Not Harry, not Jacob, please no, take me, kill me instead —”  

Numbing, swirling white mist was filling Jacob’s brain. … What was he doing? Why was he flying? He needed to help her. … She was going to die. … She was going to be murdered. … He was falling, falling through the icy mist. “Not Harry! Not Jacob Please … have mercy … have mercy. …” A shrill voice was laughing, the woman was screaming, and Jacob knew no more.  

The next thing Jacob knew, he was waking up in his bed in his dorm room. Draco quickly shoved some chocolate in his hands. “You fainted when the dementors were near again. Are you ok?” Draco asked as Jacob began to eat the chocolate. He nodded slightly. “Hufflepuff won the match and Potter’s broom broke. He’s fine. He's in the hospital wing though. We got you away before anyone noticed to protect the slytherin reputation” Theo Nott explained from the corner of the room. “Jacob, mate, you need to learn the Patronus charm soon or you are going to put us all in danger” Blase said, throwing a book on his lap. “I’ll get started. But I thought we weren’t meant to learn this yet?” No one answered him, they all just walked out to give him time to learn.   

From that moment forward, Jacob spent all his free time trying to learn the patronus charm, on his own, so he could protect himself from dementors. Sometimes Draco sat in and helped but Jacob mostly practiced alone. This how he spent every Hogsmeade trip, every study time and whenever he had no homework left to do. But he kept struggling to master it. Though sneaking off to abandoned classrooms to practice a charm his not meant to do without any of the teachers knowing meant he accidently heard a lot of secret conversations. Like the conversation between McGonagall and Lupin that he heard that he wished he had heard. He was so embarrassed by it that he didn’t talk about it.   

“Minerva, I think Harry deserves to know Sirius is his godfather. He should have that information.”  

“Have you told Jacob that you're his godfather yet?”  

“Umm in other words maybe your right.... Umm. Have you seen how much Bonnie is not like her mother's? I think they’d be so proud”  

“So, you haven’t told him and yeah, I do think Marlene and Dorcas would be very proud of her... have you talked to Mary yet? She has been raising the poor girl alone?”  

“We have been writing to each other since she found out I was Bonnie’s new teacher”  

But finally, after a month and ¾ of practice, Jacob finally mastered the patronus charm. After spending two weeks at Malfoy Manor for Christmas, having the time of his life, unable to practice the spell, he dragged Draco to a private classroom upon their arrived at Hogwarts and practiced the spell. An hour into the practice and he finally gained a corporal patronus. His patronus ended up taking the form of a ........   

“MY PATRONUS IS A BLOODY WEASL!”  

Classes started again the next day and Jacob finally stopped pretending to have a broken arm.  The first Divination lesson of the new term was boring; Professor Trelawney was now teaching them palmistry, and she lost no time in informing Harry and Jacob that they had the shortest lifeline she had ever seen. But Jacob had no way of getting out classes and he still had to secretly deal with the fact he had a werewolf for a godfather. Ravenclaw played Slytherin a week after the start of term. Slytherin won, though narrowly. Slytherin just needed to win against Hufflepuff and Gryffindor now and then they would win the quidditch cup.  January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather or how boring classed were. But what was instresting though was that Hermione and Ron seemed to have stopped talking. Apparently Hermione’s cat had eaten Ron’s rat. Jacob didn’t care enough to listen to Harry enough. What Jacob had noticed though was that Aurora had been hanging out with Cedric diggory a lot since the Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff match and Harry didn’t seem very happy about it. So Jacob, being the amazing twin brother he is, decided to confront Harry about it a couple of days before the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match, taking his mind of the match.   

“You like her, don’t you?”  

“Huh? What are you on about Jacob?”  

“You don’t just like her. You love her. Oh, you’ve got it bad for her”  

“What are you on about Jacob? I don’t love anyone like that”  

“I see how you look at her, at them”  

“Who are you on about?”  

“Aurora and Diggory, of course”  

“I don’t like Aurora. She’s just my friend.”  

“You look at her like she’s your whole world and like he is going to destroy your world so you can’t have it.”  

“Jacob....”  

“You love her so much, but you waited too long and now she’s with someone else and you can never get her back”  

“Jacob...”  

“You have to admit it, Harry. It’s kind of stupid, falling for a taken girl. I mean you could do better. Most of the straight and bi girls at hogwarts want to date you. You have tones of options. But you pick her”  

“Shut up Jacob”  

“I mean she’s pretty and all but Her? What do you and Diggory see in her? He must have seen something since they're now dating. You wish that was you, don’t you? I can see the pain in your eyes every time I mention him. You want Diggory gone so you can date Aurora. Ohh poor Harry can’t get the girl he wants when millions of girls are falling at his feet”  

“At least I don’t go flirting with Malfoy and shoving it down everyone’s throats”  

“Oh... Have a hit a nerve, Harry? I am only telling the truth, and I guess the truth hurts. Aurora will never be with you as long as Cedric is alive so get over her”  

“And Malfoy is too much of a prick to every really like you so stop flirting with him and get some real friends”  

“Oh, shove off it, Harry”  

Near the end of February, the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw match took place. The weather was so much better than the Hufflepuff vs Gryffindor match. It was a clear, cool day with a very light breeze; there would be no visibility problems this time. The two teams walked out onto the field to tumultuous applause.  “Wood, Davies, shake hands,” Madam Hooch said briskly, and Wood shook hands with the Ravenclaw Captain. “Mount your brooms … on my whistle … three — two — one —” and the players were off.   

“They’re off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt that Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt’s going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year’s World Championship —”  

“Jordan, would you mind telling us what’s going on in the match?”  

“Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information — the Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and —”  

“Jordan!”  

“Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal …”  

Jacob ended up sitting alone for the match. Draco, Goyle and Crabbe had walked to the stadium with him and then disappeared. So, Jacob was watching Harry with hope. If the Gryffindor team lost today, that meant the Slytherin's only had to beat the Hufflepuffs to win but if the Gryffindor’s win, the Slytherin's would need to beat the Hufflepuffs and the Gryffindor's and Jacob really wanted to win the quidditch world cup.   

“Gryffindor leads by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter’s really putting it through its paces now, see it turn — Chang’s Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt’s precision-balance is really noticeable in these long —”  

“JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!”  

Ravenclaw was pulling back; they had now scored three goals, which put Gryffindor only fifty points ahead — if Cho got the Snitch before Harry, Ravenclaw would win. Jacob begged for Cho chang, the Ravenclaw seeker (a 4 th year), to hurry up and get the snitch. Suddenly they both seemed to accelerate towards the Gryffindor goal post. This is when Jacob learned where Draco and the gang had gone as three ‘dementors’ appeared infront of Harry and Cho. Plunging a hand down the neck of his robes, Harry whipped out his wand and roared, “Expecto patronum!” Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. The dementor’s flew away from it and Harry grabbed the snitch. Madam Hooch’s whistle sounded. Gryffindor had one the match. The Slytherin's had to win their next two matches to get the cup.  

Jacob quickly left the stands to go find his friends. He found Draco and the gang laughing at the edge of the forest and joking together. Jacob marched right over to them and slapped Draco on the cheek. “Hey!” Draco said in anger. “That was for scaring my brother and nearly knocking him off his broom when he was flying” Jacob said before grabbing his colour and kissing him “That was for trying to get us to win the cup. Harry just outsmarted you. Now come on. We need to go practice if I’m going to be a beater next year” Jacob said smirking. “You're going to join the team next year?” Draco said smiling and blushing. “We have to beat my brother somehow” was the reply the blonde got.   

“Did you hear that Sirius Balck was in the Gryffindor common room, attacking Weasley last night?”  

“Yeah, wished he had finished the job”  

“Draco....”  

“What?”  

“Longbottom apparently had a list of all the passwords and lost it. And Black got hold of it”  

“Stupid Longbottom”  

After the midnight attack, everywhere the students went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch was suddenly bustling up and down the corridors, boarding up everything from tiny cracks in the walls to mouse holes. Sir Cadogan had been fired. His portrait had been taken back to its lonely landing on the seventh floor, and the Fat Lady was back. She had been expertly restored, but was still extremely nervous, and had agreed to return to her job only on condition that she was given extra protection. A bunch of surly security trolls had been hired to guard her. They paced the corridor in a menacing group, talking in grunts and comparing the size of their clubs. Ron had become an instant celebrity. For the first time in his life, people were paying more attention to him than to Harry, and it was clear that Ron was rather enjoying the experience. Though still severely shaken by the night’s events, he was happy to tell anyone who asked what had happened, with a wealth of detail. Neville was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with him she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits, given him a detention, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night for somebody to let him in, while the security trolls leered unpleasantly at him. None of these punishments, however, came close to matching the one his grandmother had in store for him. Two days after Black’s break-in, she sent Neville the very worst thing a Hogwarts student could receive over breakfast — a Howler. What Jacob didn’t expect to receive during this mess was a certain letter from Harry, yes, a letter. Harry wouldn’t even walk across the hall to talk to him; he just sent a letter.   

“Hey Jacob,   

Can you help us? You know more about ministry stuff than me and Ron. Buckbeak has been sentence to death. He's got an appeal, but we are trying to find a way to stop his execution. Please can you help us?  

From Harry”  

“Harry,  

You really think your smart, don’t you? Did you forget Draco is my best friend. That monster attacked my friend, nearly killed my friend, broke my friend's arm and you want me to help save its life. You need to get your head checked. Why should I care that that monster is going to get killed? It deserves death just as Hagrid deserves to be fired for bringing it to Hogwarts and having student near it. Never ask me to help save that monster again.  

Jacob”  

Life seemed to carry on as normal even with the Buckbeak thing happening and the tightened security. However, Hermione seemed very on edge and tired. She didn’t even turn up for charms for some reason but then Divination happened and that seemed to be the last straw. Everyone arrived at the lesson to find crystal balls full of pearly white mist on every single table. Despite not really talking much, Jacob was still forced to sit with Harry, Ron, Aurora and Hermione but that just meant he had a clear view of the show. “I thought we weren’t starting crystal balls until next term,” Ron muttered, casting a wary eye around for Professor Trelawney, in case she was lurking nearby. “Don’t complain, this means we’ve finished palmistry,” Harry muttered back. “I was getting sick of her flinching every time she looked at mine and Jacob’s hands”  

“Good day to you!”  

 Professor Trelawney made her usual dramatic entrance out of the shadows. Parvati and Lavender quivered with excitement, their faces lit by the milky glow of their crystal ball.  

“I have decided to introduce the crystal ball a little earlier than I had planned, the fates have informed me that your examination in June will concern the Orb, and I am anxious to give you sufficient practice.”  

Hermione snorted. “Well, honestly … ‘the fates have informed her’ … who sets the exam? She does! What an amazing prediction!” she said, not troubling to keep her voice low. Harry and Ron choked back laughs. Jacob rolled his eyes.  It was hard to tell whether Professor Trelawney had heard them, as her face was hidden in shadow. She continued, however, as though she had not.  

“Crystal gazing is a particularly refined art, I do not expect any of you to See when first you peer into the Orb’s infinite depths. We shall start by practicing relaxing the conscious mind and external eyes so as to clear the Inner Eye and the superconscious. Perhaps, if we are lucky, some of you will See before the end of the class.”  

And so, they began. Jacob stared into the ball, feeling silly. This was stupid but he had to continue. It didn’t help that Ron kept breaking into silent giggles, Hermione kept tutting and Aurora kept humming.  “Seen anything yet?” Harry asked them after a quarter of an hour’s quiet crystal gazing. Jacob shook his head.  “Yeah, there’s a burn on this table, someone’s spilled their candle.” said Ron, pointing. “This is such a waste of time,” Hermione hissed. “I could be practicing something useful. I could be catching up on Cheering Charms —” Professor Trelawney rustled past.  

“Would anyone like me to help them interpret the shadowy portents within their Orb?”   

“I don’t need help,” Ron whispered. “It’s obvious what this means. There’s going to be loads of fog tonight.” Harry, Aurora and Hermione burst out laughing. Jacob just ignored them.   

“Now, really! You are disturbing the clairvoyant vibrations!”  

 She approached the gang’s table and peered into their crystal ball. Jacob sighed and waited for his and Harry’s death’s to be predicted.   

“There is something here! Something moving … but what is it? My dears …, It is here, plainer than ever before … my dear, stalking toward you, growing ever closer … the Gr —”  

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” said Hermione loudly. “Not that ridiculous Grim again!” Professor Trelawney raised her enormous eyes to Hermione’s face. Parvati whispered something to Lavender, and they both glared at Hermione too. Professor Trelawney stood up, surveying Hermione with unmistakable anger.  

“I am sorry to say that from the moment you have arrived in this class, my dear, it has been apparent that you do not have what the noble art of Divination requires. Indeed, I don’t remember ever meeting a student whose mind was so hopelessly mundane.”   

There was a moment’s silence. Then — “Fine!” said Hermione suddenly, getting up and cramming Unfogging the Future back into her bag. “Fine!” she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and almost knocking Ron off his chair. “I give up! I’m leaving!” And to the whole class’s amazement, Hermione strode over to the trapdoor, kicked it open, and climbed down the ladder out of sight. It took a few minutes for the class to settle down again. Professor Trelawney seemed to have forgotten all about the Grim. She turned abruptly from Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Ron’s table, breathing rather heavily as she tugged her gauzy shawl more closely to her. “Ooooo!” said Lavender suddenly, making everyone start. “Oooooo, Professor Trelawney, I’ve just remembered! You saw her leaving, didn’t you? Didn’t you, Professor? ‘Around Easter, one of our number will leave us forever!’ You said it ages ago, Professor!” Professor Trelawney gave her a dewy smile.   

“Yes, my dear, I did indeed know that Miss Granger would be leaving us. One hopes, however, that one might have mistaken the Signs. … The Inner Eye can be a burden, you know. …”  

The Easter holidays were not exactly relaxing. The third years had never had so much homework. The exams were a couple of months away and teachers were making sure the students were ready for it.  Neville Longbottom seemed close to a nervous collapse, and he wasn’t the only one. But nobody had as much to do as Hermione. Even without Divination, she was taking more subjects than anybody else. Jacob and Draco spent most of their holiday, locked up in their dorm doing homework and studying for their OWLs. Pansy had started a rumour that they weren’t working at all and instead making out every night, the two quickly disproved that with proof that they were just friends even if they flirted with each other all the time.   

But good news was Slytherin had beaten Hufflepuff and were now leading the tournament by exactly 200 points. This meant as long as Gryffindor lost by 199 points or left, they would win the quidditch cup. So, the slytherin team were spending a lot of time practicing as well doing schoolwork, the Gryffindor vs slytherin match was the first Saturday after the easter holiday. But because of the match, the enmity between Harry and Draco was at its highest point ever. Never, in anyone’s memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their Houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears. Harry was having a particularly bad time of it. He couldn’t walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him up; Crabbe and Goyle kept popping up wherever he went and slouching away looking disappointed when they saw him surrounded by people.    

Finally match day arrived. The teams walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three-quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners with slogans like “GO GRYFFINDOR!” and “LIONS FOR THE CUP!” Behind the Slytherin goal posts, however, two hundred people were wearing green; the silver serpent of Slytherin glittered on their flags, and Professor Snape sat in the very front row, wearing green like everyone else, and a very grim smile.  

“And here are the Gryffindors! Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —”  

Lee’s comments were drowned by a tide of “boos” from the Slytherin end.  

“And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He’s made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —”  

More boos from the Slytherin crowd. “Captains, shake hands!” said Madam Hooch. Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other’s hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other’s fingers. “Mount your brooms!” said Madam Hooch. “Three … two … one …” The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.   

“And it’s Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it’s caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that’s a Bludger! — SHE SCORES! TEN–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”  

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field; the sea of scarlet below was screaming its delight — “OUCH!” Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her. “Sorry!” said Flint as the crowd below booed. “Sorry, didn’t see her!” A moment later, Fred Weasley chucked his Beater’s club at the back of Flint’s head. Flint’s nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed. “That will do! Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!” shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between them.  “Come off it, Miss!” howled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.   

“Come on, Alicia! YES! SHE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY–ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”  

Harry turned the Firebolt sharply to watch Flint, still bleeding freely, fly forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Wood was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched.  

“ ’Course, Wood’s a superb Keeper! Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE’S SAVED IT! Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! — Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she’s streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”  

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cartwheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle. Madam Hooch’s whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.  

“THIRTY–ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —”  

“Jordan, if you can’t commentate in an unbiased way — !”  

“I’m telling it like it is, Professor!”  

Harry pulled his Firebolt around and sped off toward the Slytherin end, Draco went haring after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there. … WHOOSH. One of the Bludgers came streaking past Harry’s right ear, hit by the gigantic Slytherin Beater, Derrick. Then again — WHOOSH. The second Bludger grazed Harry’s elbow. The other Beater, Bole, was closing in. Harry had a fleeting glimpse of Bole and Derrick zooming toward him, clubs raised — He turned the Firebolt upward at the last second, and Bole and Derrick collided with a sickening crunch.  

“Ha haaa! Too bad, boys! You’ll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it’s Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save — !”  

But Flint had scored; there was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.  

“Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won’t happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession —”  

It was turning into the dirtiest game Jacob had ever seen. Enraged that Gryffindor had taken such an early lead, the Slytherins were rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. Bole hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he’d thought she was a Bludger. George Weasley elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Wood pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor. Katie scored. Fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred’s and George’s absence to aim both Bludgers at Wood; they caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded. Madam Hooch was beside herself.   

“YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!” she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. “Gryffindor penalty!”   

And Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred Weasley pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands; Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — seventy-ten. The Gryffindor crowd below was screaming itself hoarse — Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. Suddenly Harry sped up but Draco grabbed the back of his broom slowing him down. Harry tried to hit him but couldn’t.  “Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I’ve never seen such tactics!” Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was sliding back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One.  

“YOU CHEATING SCUM! YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —”  

Professor McGonagall didn’t even bother to tell him off. She was actually shaking her finger in Draco’s direction, her hat had fallen off, and she too was shouting furiously. Alicia took Gryffindor’s penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins were being spurred on to greater heights.  

“Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores — Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor. … Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!”  

 Every single Slytherin player apart from Draco was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper — they were all going to block her — Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a bullet, he shot toward the Slytherins. “AAAAAAARRRGH!” They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them; Angelina’s way was clear.  

“SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!”  

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair, reversed, and zoomed back into the middle of the field. Then him and Draco must have seen something as they both set off zooming towards something. Harry flattened himself to the broom handle as Bole sent a Bludger at him. Harry threw himself forward, took both hands off his broom. He knocked Malfoy’s arm out of the way and — “YES!” He pulled out of his dive, his hand in the air, and the stadium exploded. Harry soared above the crowd, an odd ringing in his ears. The tiny golden ball was held tight in his fist, beating its wings hopelessly against his fingers. Gryffindor had won the game and the cup.  

“I’m defiantly going to have to join the team next year now. We have to beat Harry”  

“Yes, we do Jay”  

As June approached, the days became cloudless and sultry, and all anybody felt like doing was strolling onto the grounds and flopping down on the grass with several pints of iced pumpkin juice, perhaps playing a casual game of Gobstones or watching the giant squid propel itself dreamily across the surface of the lake. But they couldn’t. Exams were nearly upon them, and instead of lazing around outside, the students were forced to remain inside the castle, trying to bully their brains into concentrating while enticing wafts of summer air drifted in through the windows. Even Fred and George Weasley had been spotted working; they were about to take their O.W.L.s (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). Percy was getting ready to take his N.E.W.T.s (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests), the highest qualification Hogwarts offered.   

Exam week began and an unnatural hush fell over the castle. The third years emerged from Transfiguration at lunchtime on Monday, limp and ashen-faced, comparing results and bemoaning the difficulty of the tasks they had been set, which had included turning a teapot into a tortoise. Then, after a hasty lunch, it was straight back upstairs for the Charms exam. Professor Flitwick tested them on Cheering Charms. After dinner, the students hurried back to their common rooms, not to relax, but to start studying for Care of Magical Creatures, Ancient runes, Potions, and Astronomy. Ancient runes the next morning was awful. They had to translate the runes.  They had Potions that afternoon, which Jacob loved. He got a perfect confusing concoction quickly. Then came Astronomy at midnight, up on the tallest tower; History of Magic on Wednesday morning, in which Jacob scribbled everything he could remember about medieval witch-hunts. Wednesday afternoon meant Herbology, in the greenhouses under a baking-hot sun; then back to the common room once more, with sunburnt necks, thinking longingly of this time next day, when it would all be over. Their second to last exam, on Thursday morning, was Defense Against the Dark Arts. Professor Lupin had compiled the most unusual exam any of them had ever taken; a sort of obstacle course outside in the sun, where they had to wade across a deep paddling pool containing a grindylow, cross a series of potholes full of Red Caps, squish their way across a patch of marsh while ignoring misleading directions from a hinkypunk, then climb into an old trunk and battle with a new boggart.  

“Excellent, Jacob. Full marks.”  

Jacob’s last exam was Divination; it happened that afternoon. He proceeded all the way up to the seventh, where many of their class were sitting on the spiral staircase to Professor Trelawney’s classroom, trying to cram in a bit of last-minute studying. “She’s seeing us all separately,” A slytherin informed him as he sat down. He had his copy of Unfogging the Future open on his lap at the pages devoted to crystal gazing. “Have you ever seen anything in a crystal ball?” he asked the slytherin unhappily but got no reply.  The line of people outside the classroom shortened very slowly. As each person climbed back down the silver ladder, the rest of the class hissed, “What did she ask? Was it okay?” But they all refused to say. “She says the crystal ball’s told her that if I tell you, I’ll have a horrible accident!” squeaked Neville as he clambered back down the ladder. Parvati came back down the ladder glowing with pride and hurried off down the spiral staircase toward Lavender. “Ronald Weasley,” said the familiar, misty voice from over their heads. Ron grimaced at Harry and climbed the silver ladder out of sight. Harry and Jacob were now the only people left to be tested. Finally, after about twenty minutes, Ron’s large feet reappeared on the ladder. “Harry Potter!” was called and Jacob was left alone for 20 minutes before Harry came down shaking and rushed off.   

“Jacob Potter!”  

Jacob sighed and climbed the ladder. The tower room was hotter than ever before; the curtains were closed, the fire was alight, and the usual sickly scent made Jacob cough as he stumbled through the clutter of chairs and tables to where Professor Trelawney sat waiting for him before a large crystal ball.  

“Good day, my dear, If you would kindly gaze into the Orb. … Take your time, now … then tell me what you see within it. …”  

Jacob bent over the crystal ball and stared, stared as hard as he could, willing it to show him something other than swirling white fog, but nothing happened.  

“Well? What do you see?”  

The heat was overpowering and his nostrils were stinging with the perfumed smoke wafting from the fire beside them. He thought of what Ron had just said, and decided to pretend.  

“Er — a dark shape … um …”  

“What does it resemble? Think, now …”  

“A hippogriff,”   

“Indeed! My boy, you may well be seeing the outcome of poor Hagrid’s trouble with the Ministry of Magic! Look closer. … Does the hippogriff appear to … have its head?”  

“no”  

“Is it on the group, withering with a shadowy figure raising an axe behind it?”  

“Yes, with blood and a weeping Hagrid”  

“Well, dear, I think we’ll leave it there. … You did amazing dear. I must say, are you sure you don’t have the gift?”  

“I’m sure, miss” Jacob said as he got up, picked up his bag and turned to go, but then a loud, harsh voice spoke behind him.  

“ It will happen tonight. ”  

Jacob wheeled around. Professor Trelawney had gone rigid in her armchair; her eyes were unfocused and her mouth sagging. “Sorry?” he said, confused. But Professor Trelawney didn’t seem to hear him. Her eyes started to roll. She looked as though she was about to have some sort of seizure. Then Professor Trelawney spoke again, in the same harsh voice, quite unlike her own:  

“The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers.   

His servant has been chained these twelve years.  

 Tonight, before midnight …  

the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master.   

The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant’s aid,   

greater and more terrible than ever he was.   

Tonight … before midnight … the servant … will set out … to rejoin … his master. …”  

Professor Trelawney’s head fell forward onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. Jacob stared at her, like she had gone mad. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney’s head snapped up again. “I’m so sorry, dear boy, the heat of the day, you know … I drifted off for a moment. … Is there anything wrong, my dear?” she said dreamily, “You — you just told me that the — the Dark Lord’s going to rise again … that his servant’s going to go back to him. …” He replied. Professor Trelawney looked thoroughly startled.  

“The Dark Lord? He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? My dear boy, that’s hardly something to joke about. … Rise again, indeed —”  

“But you just said it! You said the Dark Lord —”  

“I think you must have dozed off too, dear! I would certainly not presume to predict anything quite as far-fetched as that!”  

Jacob sighed and left. But he couldn’t get his mind off what Trelawney had said, so after dinner Jacob decided to go for a walk by himself. What Jacob didn’t expect to see was Ron Weasley being pulled by a giant Black dog towards the Whomping Willow while being followed by 3 pairs of feet attached to no body. He saw a light suddenly appear as Ron’s rat, Ron and the dog went under the tree. Jacob sighed and pinched his noise. “What are they up to now?” Jacob whispered to himself before running over to them. He kept his distance as not to be hit by the tree. He wanted to see how they got through before making his presence known. Suddenly, Hermione, Aurora and Harry appeared where the feet had been. The invisibility cloak must have fallen off.   

“Harry — we’ve got to go for help —” Hermione gasped; she was bleeding; the Willow had cut her across the shoulder. “No! That thing’s big enough to eat him; we haven’t got time —” Harry replied.  “Harry — we’re never going to get through without help —” Hemione replied. “But we have to save him” Aurora argued.  Another branch whipped down at them, twigs clenched like knuckles. “If that dog can get in, we can,” Harry panted, darting here and there, trying to find a way through the vicious, swishing branches, but he couldn’t get an inch nearer to the tree roots without being in range of the tree’s blows. “Oh, help, help,” Hermione whispered frantically, dancing uncertainly on the spot, “please …” Crookshanks darted forward. He slithered between the battering branches like a snake and placed his front paws upon a knot on the trunk. Abruptly, as though the tree had been turned to marble, it stopped moving. Not a leaf twitched or shook. “Crookshanks! How did he know — ?” Hermione whispered uncertainly. “That is one smart cat” Jacob said making himself known.   

“What are you doing here, Jacob?”  

“Wondering what you lot are up to you look suspicious”  

“Shove off, We don’t have time to deal with this. We need to save Ron”  

“Whatever I’m coming with you”  

They covered the distance to the trunk in seconds, but before they had reached the gap in the roots, Crookshanks had slid into it with a flick of his bottlebrush tail. Harry went next; he crawled forward, headfirst, and slid down an earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. Crookshanks was a little way along, his eyes flashing in the light from Harry’s wand. Seconds later, Hermione slithered down beside him, then Aurora and finally Jacob. He was still suspicious of them. “Where’s Ron?” Hermione whispered in a terrified voice. “This way,” said Harry, setting off, bent-backed, after Crookshanks. “Where does this tunnel come out?” Aurora asked breathlessly. “I don’t know. … It’s marked on the Marauder’s Map but Fred and George said no one’s ever gotten into it. … It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it was heading for Hogsmeade. …” Harry replied. “Marauder’s what? Care to catch me up?” No one answered Jacob.   

They moved as fast as they could, bent almost double; ahead of them, Crookshanks’s tail bobbed in and out of view. On and on went the passage; it felt at least as long as the one to Honeydukes. … Jacob was drawing breath in sharp, painful gasps, running at a crouch..... And then the tunnel began to rise; moments later it twisted, and Crookshanks had gone. Instead, Jacob could see a patch of dim light through a small opening. The gang paused, gasping for breath, edging forward. All four raised their wands to see what lay beyond. It was a room, a very disordered, dusty room. Paper was peeling from the walls; there were stains all over the floor; every piece of furniture was broken as though somebody had smashed it. The windows were all boarded up. After nodding to each other, Harry pulled himself out of the hole, staring around. Everyone else quickly followed. The room was deserted, but a door to their right stood open, leading to a shadowy hallway.  “I think we’re in the Shrieking Shack.” Hermione whispered. Jacob smiled widely and looked around.  Large chunks had been torn out of it; one of the legs had been ripped off entirely. “Ghosts didn’t do that,” he said slowly. At that moment, there was a creak overhead. Something had moved upstairs. All of them looked up at the ceiling. Quietly as they could, they crept out into the hall and up the crumbling staircase. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust except the floor, where a wide shiny stripe had been made by something being dragged upstairs.  

They reached the dark landing. “Nox,” they all whispered together, and the lights at the end of their wands went out. Only one door was open. As they crept toward it, they heard movement from behind it; a low moan, and then a deep, loud purring. They exchanged a last look, a last nod. Wand held tightly before them, Harry kicked the door wide open. On a magnificent four-poster bed with dusty hangings lay Crookshanks, purring loudly at the sight of them. On the floor beside him, clutching his leg, which stuck out at a strange angle, was Ron. Harry, Aurora and Hermione dashed across to him. Jacob kept his distance because he had spotted something in the corner of the room, someone.  As Aurora asked about the dog and Ron said something about an animagus, Jacob rolled his eyes and spoke  

“Will you all stop being clueless Gryffindor’s and look behind you?”  

Everyone quickly turned around wands raised.  With a snap, the man in the shadows closed the door behind them. A mass of filthy, matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn’t been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might have been a corpse. The waxy skin was stretched so tightly over the bones of his face, it looked like a skull. His yellow teeth were bared in a grin. It was Sirius Black. “Expelliarmus!” he croaked, pointing Ron’s wand at them. Jacob’s, Aurora’s, Harry’s and Hermione’s wands shot out of their hands, high in the air, and Black caught them. Then he took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Harry and Jacob.   

“I thought you’d come and help your friend, Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you both, not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful … it will make everything much easier. …”  

Jacob rolled in his eyes. “Not brave. Just a slytherin who will get in trouble for being out instead of getting” He muttered. But Harry didn’t seem to have the same reaction. He seemed to fill with anger. He went to attack Black, but Aurora, Ron and Hermione held him back.  “No, Harry!” Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black. “If you want to kill Harry, you’ll have to kill us too!” he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more colour, and he swayed slightly as he spoke “I guess we can’t let you kill Jacob either” He added after Aurora glared at him. Something flickered in Black’s shadowed eyes.   

“Lie down, You will damage that leg even more.”   

  “Did you hear me?” Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. “You’ll have to kill all three of us!” Jacob rolled his eyes. They acted like they cared for both twins but none of them were standing to protect him, they were just protecting Harry.   

“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,”   

“Why’s that? Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew. … What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?” Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free.   “Harry! Be quiet!” Hermione whimpered. “He’s mum’s favourite cousin. I don’t think he did it” Aurora argued only to be told not now by Ron. "HE KILLED OUR MUM AND DAD!” Harry roared, and with a huge effort he broke free of Hermione’s and Ron’s restraint and lunged forward - “We don’t have our wands you idiot!” Jacob shouted and was ignored - Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn’t raise the wands in time — one of Harry’s hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry’s other hand collided with the side of Black’s head and they fell, backward, into the wall — Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling, Aurora was shouting to stop it, Jacob didn’t know what to do; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black’s hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry’s face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find. But Black’s free hand had found Harry’s throat —  

“No, I’ve waited too long —”  

The fingers tightened, Harry choked, his glasses askew. “Oh yes, the godfatherly thing of strangulation” Jacob mumbled, leaning on the wall. Everyone was ignoring that he was there. Hermione’s foot swing for Black out of nowhere. Black let go of Harry with a grunt of pain; Ron had thrown himself on Black’s wand hand and Jacob heard a faint clatter – Harry fought free of the tangle of bodies and saw his own wand rolling across the floor; he threw himself toward it but — “Argh!” Crookshanks had joined the fray; both sets of front claws had sunk themselves deep into Harry’s arm; Harry threw him off, but Crookshanks now darted toward Harry’s wand — “NO, YOU DON’T!” roared Harry, and he aimed a kick at Crookshanks that made the cat leap aside, spitting; Harry snatched up his wand and turned — “Get out of the way!” he shouted at Ron, Aurora and Hermione. They didn’t need telling twice. Hermione, gasping for breath, her lip bleeding, scrambled aside, snatching up her and Ron’s wands. Ron crawled to the fourposter and collapsed onto it, panting, his white face now tinged with green, both hands clutching his broken leg. Aurora jumped out of the way. Jacob just laughed watching the scene in front of him.  Black was sprawled at the bottom of the wall. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched Harry walking slowly nearer, his wand pointing straight at Black’s heart.  

“Going to kill me, Harry?”   

Harry stopped right above him, his wand still pointing at Black’s chest, looking down at him. A livid bruise was rising around Black’s left eye and his nose was bleeding. “You killed mine and Jacob’s parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady. Black stared up at him out of those sunken eyes.  

“I don’t deny it, But if you knew the whole story.”  

Jacob nearly fell forwards in confusion from that one. “What the? Whole story? Like this is some fairytale. You sold them to Voldemort. That’s all we need to know. Harry, can we go now? I’m bored” Jacob said, leaning against the wall again. Jacob just received a glare.   

“You’ve got to listen to me, both of you. You’ll regret it if you don’t. … You don’t understand. …”  

“I understand a lot better than you think,” said Harry, and his voice shook more than ever. “You never heard her, did you? My mum … trying to stop Voldemort killing us… and you did that … you did it. …” Before either of them could say another word, something ginger streaked past Harry; Crookshanks leapt onto Black’s chest and settled himself there, right over Black’s heart. Black blinked and looked down at the cat.  

“Get off,”   

Black tried to push Crookshanks off him. But Crookshanks sank his claws into Black’s robes and wouldn’t shift. He turned his ugly, squashed face to Harry and looked up at him with those great yellow eyes. To his right, Hermione gave a dry sob. “Awe Crookshanks wants to protect her friend” Aurora said in awe.  Harry stared down at Black and Crookshanks, his grip tightening on the wand. Harry raised the wand. The seconds lengthened. And still Harry stood frozen there, wand poised, Black staring up at him, Crookshanks on his chest. Ron’s ragged breathing came from near the bed; Hermione was quite silent, Aurora was still aweing at the cat, Jacob was bored “Hurry up Harry, Dray will be wondering where I am”.  And then came a new sound — Muffled footsteps were echoing up through the floor — someone was moving downstairs. “WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermione screamed suddenly. “WE’RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — QUICK!” Black made a startled movement that almost dislodged Crookshanks; Harry gripped his wand convulsively, but the footsteps were thundering up the stairs and Harry still hadn’t done it.  

 The door of the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professor Lupin came hurtling into the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready. His eyes flickered over Ron, lying on the floor, over Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Black, to Aurora trying to talk to the cat, to Jacob on the wall, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry’s feet. “Expelliarmus!” Lupin shouted. Harry’s wand flew once more out of his hand; so, did the four Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them all deftly, then moved into the room, staring at Black, who still had Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest. Then a few minutes later as everyone stood in silence Bonnie Mckinnon-meadows came running. “Uncle Remus, you missed our afternoon te- Oh is that Uncle Sirius? Hi! I’m Bonnie, Marlene McKinnon and Dorcas Meadow’s daughter. Oh, Aunt Mary said I’m not meant to talk to you because you are bad” Before she could say anything else, Hermione pulled her away from Sirius and she stood next to Aurora.   

“Well, this is fucking great. Lupin will take Black back to the Dementors. Ron has a broken leg by Black. Bonnie and Aurora here are trying to befriend the killer. All I wanted was a walk and to top it all off, my god father is a-” Jacob was cut off by Lupin talking to Black “Where is he, Sirius?” Everyone looked at Lupin confused. Black’s face was quite expressionless. For a few seconds, he didn’t move at all. Then, very slowly, he raised his empty hand and pointed straight at Ron. “But then … ,” Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed he was trying to read his mind, “… why hasn’t he shown himself before now? Unless” — Lupin’s eyes suddenly widened, as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none of the rest could see, “— unless he was the one … unless you switched … without telling me?” Very slowly, his sunken gaze never leaving Lupin’s face, Black nodded. Everyone was confused.  “Professor,” Harry interrupted loudly, “what’s going on — ?” But he never finished the question as Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Black. The Professor walked to Black’s side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and embraced Black like a brother. Seeing that happen, both Bonnie and Auora smile widely and rushed over and hugged back before anyone could stop them.   

“I DON’T BELIEVE IT!”   

The two girls let go of Black as everyone turned to look at Hermione. Lupin let go of Black and turned to her. She had raised herself off the floor and was pointing at Lupin, wild-eyed.  

“You — you —”  

“Hermione —”  

“ — you and him!”  

“Hermione, calm down —”  

“I didn’t tell anyone! I’ve been covering up for you — I even shut Jacob up everytime he nearly said something”  

“Hermione, listen to me, please! I can explain —”  

“I trusted you, and all the time you’ve been his friend!”  

“You’re wrong, I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now — Let me explain. …”  

Jacob sighed. “Like I was trying to say before. My godfather is a werewolf and Mr lupin here is godfather. Our parents must love us Harry. A murderer and a Werewolf for Godfathers. And Hermione thing’s he’s helping Black kill us” There was a ringing silence. Everyone’s eyes were now on Lupin, who looked remarkably calm, though rather pale. “I’m afraid only the werewolf and godfather thing are true in that sentence. I was not helping Sirius, and I don’t want either of you dead” Ron made a valiant effort to get up again but fell back with a whimper of pain. Lupin made toward him, looking concerned, but Ron gasped, “Get away from me, werewolf!” Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and Jacob and said, “How long have you known?”. Jacob rolled his eyes.  “Ages, Since I did Professor Snape’s essay. …” Hermione whispered. “Same here and the godfather thing. I overheard you and McGonagall talking” Jacob muttered.  “He’ll be delighted, He assigned that essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. … Did you check the lunar chart and realize that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realize that the boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?” said Lupin coolly. Jacob shrugged.  “Both,” Hermione said quietly. Lupin forced a laugh  

“You’re the cleverest witch of your age I’ve ever met, Hermione.”   

“I’m not, If I’d been a bit cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”  

“But they already know, At least, the staff do.”  

“Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf? Is he mad?” Ron gasped. “Some of the staff thought so, He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I’m trustworthy —” said Lupin. “AND HE WAS WRONG!” Harry yelled. “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!” He was pointing at Black, who suddenly crossed to the four-poster bed and sank onto it, his face hidden in one shaking hand. Crookshanks leapt up beside him and stepped onto his lap, purring. Ron edged away from both of them, dragging his leg. Aurora and Bonnie didn’t move away from Black at all.  “I have not been helping Sirius,” said Lupin. “If you’ll give me a chance, I’ll explain. Look —” He separated Harry’s, Aurora’s, Jacob’s, Ron’s and Hermione’s wands and threw each back to its owner.  “There,” said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. “You’re armed, we’re not. Now will you listen?” Jacob shrugged.  “If you haven’t been helping him, how did you know he was here?” Harry said, with a furious glance at Black,   

“The map, The Marauder’s Map. I was in my office examining it —”   

“What is this bloody map?” Jacob was ignored once again.  “You know how to work it?” Harry said suspiciously.   

“Of course, I know how to work it, I helped write it. I’m Moony — that was my friends’ nickname for me at school.”  

 “Aunt Mary says that Uncle Remus is moony. Uncle Sirius is Padfoot. That Harry dad is prongs and there was a guy called Wormtail. I think Aunt Mary called him Peter” Bonnie explained, smiling. The newly 13-year-old was very excited to be here.   

“The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, Aurora and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn’t I? I don’t why Jacob is here though. You might have been wearing your father’s old cloak, Harry —”   

He had started to pace up and down, looking at them. Little patches of dust rose at his feet. “Once again, I say. Why didn’t i get anything from our parents? Is harry just the favourite child or is it because Dumbledore likes him? Dumbledores a bit creepy like that” Jacob said only to be ignored. “How d’you know about the cloak?” Harry asked.   

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it… , The point is, even if you’re wearing an Invisibility Cloak, you still show up on the Marauder’s Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid’s hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid and set off back toward the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else, and I don’t mean Jacob”   

“What? No, we weren’t!” said Harry.    

“I couldn’t believe my eyes; I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?”  

 “No one was with us! Other than Jacob staking us,” said Harry. Jacob sighed, realising what was happening.   

 “And then I saw another dot, moving fast toward you, labelled Sirius Black. … I saw him collide with you; I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow —”  

“One of us!” Ron said angrily.  

“No, Ron, Two of you. Do you think I could have a look at the rat?”   

“What?” said Ron. “What’s Scabbers got to do with it?”  

“Everything, Could I see him, please?”  

Ron hesitated, then put a hand inside his robes. Scabbers emerged, thrashing desperately; Ron had to seize his long bald tail to stop him escaping. Crookshanks stood up on Black’s leg and made a soft hissing noise. Lupin moved closer to Ron. He seemed to be holding his breath as he gazed intently at Scabbers. “What? What’s my rat got to do with anything?” Ron said again, holding Scabbers close to him, looking scared.  “That’s not a rat,” croaked Sirius Black suddenly. “What d’you mean — of course he’s a rat —” Ron asked. “No, he’s not, He’s a wizard.” said Lupin quietly.  “An Animagus, remember that Peter guy Bonnie mentioned. His full name is peter Pettigrew and he is that rat,” said Black. It took a few seconds for the absurdity of this statement to sink in. Then multipule things were said at the same time.  

“You’re both mental.”  

“Ridiculous!”  

“I have more family?”  

“So scabbers is Peter Pettigrew”  

“Great that’s all worked out. Can I leave now?”  

“Peter Pettigrew’s dead! He killed him twelve years ago!”   

“I meant to,” Sirius growled, his yellow teeth bared, “but little Peter got the better of me … not this time, though!” And Crookshanks was thrown to the floor as Black lunged at Scabbers; Ron yelled with pain as Black’s weight fell on his broken leg. “Sirius, NO! WAIT! You can’t do it just like that — they need to understand — we’ve got to explain —” Lupin yelled, launching himself forwards and dragging Black away from Ron again, “We can explain afterwards!” snarled Black, trying to throw Lupin off. One hand was still clawing the air as it tried to reach Scabbers, who was squealing like a piglet, scratching Ron’s face and neck as he tried to escape. “They’ve — got — a — right — to — know — everything!” Lupin panted, still trying to restrain Black. “Ron’s kept him as a pet! There are parts of it even I don’t understand! And Harry — you owe Harry the truth, Sirius!” Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron’s bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands. “All right, then, tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for. …” Black said, without taking his eyes off the rat.  “Are all the members of the black family dramatic?” Jacob said earning a “hey!” from aurora but nothing else.    

“Your nutters, both of you,” said Ron shakily, looking round at Harry, Aurora and Hermione for support (he didn’t dare look at Bonnie and Jacob). “I’ve had enough of this. I’m off.” He tried to heave himself up on his good leg, but Lupin raised his wand again, pointing it at Scabbers. “You’re going to hear me out, Ron, just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen.” he said quietly. “HE’S NOT PETER, HE’S SCABBERS!” Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his front pocket, but Scabbers was fighting too hard; Ron swayed and overbalanced, and Harry caught him and pushed him back down to the bed. Then, ignoring Black, Harry turned to Lupin. “There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die, A whole street full of them …” he said. “They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” said Black savagely, still watching Scabbers struggling in Ron’s hands. “Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter,” said Lupin, nodding. “I believed it myself — until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder’s map never lies … Peter’s alive. Ron’s holding him, Harry.” Jacob rolled his eyes. He wanted to see this bloody map.   

Then Hermione spoke, in a trembling, would-be calm sort of voice, as though trying to will Professor Lupin to talk sensibly. “But Professor Lupin … Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew … it just can’t be true, you know it can’t …” She spoke.  “Why can’t it be true?” Lupin said calmly, as though they were in class, and Hermione had simply spotted a problem in an experiment with grindylows. “Because … because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things … and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list —” Jacob laughed slightly. “Hermione, they-re Gryffindor's. You Gryffindor's love breaking rules. They probably didn’t get themselves registered” Jacob said, still leaning on the wall. “Jacob is correct. Thee Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.” Remus explained.  “If you’re going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus, I’ve waited twelve years; I’m not going to wait much longer.” snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers’s every desperate move. “All right … but you’ll need to help me, Sirius, I only know how it began …” Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing. “No one there …” Jacob smirks, he could sense someone was here. “This place is haunted!” said Ron.  

“It’s not, The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. … The screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me. That’s where all of this starts — with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn’t been bitten … and if I hadn’t been so foolhardy....... I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform. … I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren’t likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn’t come to school. ….... I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts. This house the tunnel that leads to it — they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous. My transformations in those days were — were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour. … Even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don’t dare approach it. … But apart from my transformations, I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends. Sirius Black … Peter Pettigrew … and, of course, your father, Harry, Jacob — James Potter. Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home to see her. … I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth. … And they didn’t desert me at all. Instead, they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi.”  

“My dad too?” said Harry, astounded. “of course dad to. Are you stupid Harry? He said all his friends” Jacob muttered.   

“Yes, indeed, It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will.”  

“But how did that help you?” said Hermione, sounding puzzled.  

“They couldn’t keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals, A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James’s Invisibility Cloak. They transformed … Peter, as the smallest, could slip beneath the Willow’s attacking branches and touch the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to become less so while I was with them.”  

“Hurry up, Remus,” snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face.  

“I’m getting there, Sirius, I’m getting there … well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now that we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether any Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did. … And that’s how we came to write the Marauder’s Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James was Prongs.”  

“What sort of animal — ?” Aurora began, but Hermione cut her off. “That was still really dangerous! Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you’d given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?”  

“A thought that still haunts me, And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless — carried away with our own cleverness. I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust, of course … he had admitted me to Hogwarts when no other headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the rules he had set down for my own and others’ safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month’s adventure. And I haven’t changed … All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn’t do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I’d betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I’d led others along with me … and Dumbledore’s trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so, I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using dark arts he learned from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it … so, in a way, Snape’s been right about me all along.”   

“Snape? What’s Snape got to do with it?” said Black harshly, taking his eyes off Scabbers for the first time in minutes and looking up at Lupin.   

“He’s here, Sirius, He’s teaching here as well. Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defense Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons … you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me —”  

Black made a derisive noise. “It served him right,” he sneered. “Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to … hoping he could get us expelled. …”  

“Severus was very interested in where I went every month. We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn’t like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James’s talent on the Quidditch field … anyway Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey one evening as she led me toward the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be — er — amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree trunk with a long stick, and he’d be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it — if he’d got as far as this house, he’d have met a fully grown werewolf — but your father, who’d heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to his life … Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden by Dumbledore to tell anybody, but from that time on he knew what I was. …”  

“So that’s why Snape doesn’t like you, because he thought you were in on the joke?” said Harry slowly, “That’s right,” sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin. Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin. “Oh, thank God. I’m not the only slytherin now” Jacob mumbled. Hermione screamed. Black leapt to his feet. Harry felt as though he’d received a huge electric shock. “I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow,” said Snape, throwing the cloak aside, careful to keep this wand pointing directly at Lupin’s chest. Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph.  

“Very useful, Potter, I thank you. … Jacob, Mckinnon-Meadows, I’m suprised you both are here. You’re wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here? I’ve just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did … lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight.”  

“Severus —”  

 “I’ve told the headmaster again and again that you’re helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here’s the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout —”  

“Severus, you’re making a mistake, You haven’t heard everything — I can explain — Sirius is not here to kill Harry —”  

“Two more for Azkaban tonight, I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this. … He was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin … a tame werewolf —”  

“You fool, Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?”  

BANG!   

Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape’s wand and twisted themselves around Lupin’s mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black’s eyes. “Give me a reason,” he whispered. “Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will.” Black stopped dead. It would have been impossible to say which face showed more hatred. None of the kids knew what to do, Jacob even stopped leaning on the wall. “Professor Snape — it — it wouldn’t hurt to hear what they’ve got to say, w — would it?” Hermione asked in a breathless voice.   

“Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school, You, Potter, Tonks, McKinnon-meadows, Potter and Weasley are out-of-bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, hold your tongue.”  

“But if — if there was a mistake —”  

“KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL! DON’T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND!”  

 A few sparks shot out of the end of his wand, which was still pointed at Black’s face. Hermione fell silent. “Vengeance is very sweet, How I hoped I would be the one to catch you. …” Snape breathed at Black.  “The joke’s on you again, Severus, As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle, I’ll come quietly. …” Black snarled. “Up to the castle?” said Snape silkily. “I don’t think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the dementors once we get out of the Willow. They’ll be very pleased to see you, Black … pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay. …” What little colour there was in Black’s face left it. “You — you’ve got to hear me out,” he croaked. “The rat — look at the rat —” But there was a mad glint in Snape’s eyes that Jacob had never seen before. He seemed beyond reason. “Come on, all of you,” he said. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. “I’ll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the dementors will have a kiss for him too —” Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had crossed the room in three strides and blocked the door.  

“Get out of the way, Potter, you’re in enough trouble already, If I hadn’t been here to save your skin —”  

“Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year, I’ve been alone with him loads of times, having defense lessons against the dementors. If he was helping Black, why didn’t he just finish me off then?”  

“Don’t ask me to fathom the way a werewolf’s mind works, Get out of the way, Potter.”  

“YOU’RE PATHETIC! JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON’T EVEN LISTEN —”  

“SILENCE! I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT! Like father, like son, Potter! I am glad Jacob took after your mother. I have just saved your neck; you should be thanking me on bended knee! You would have been well served if he’d killed you! You’d have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black — now get out of the way, or I will make you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!”  

Before Snape could take even one step toward him, Harry had raised his wand. “Expelliarmus!” he yelled — except that his wasn’t the only voice that shouted. There was a blast that made the door rattle on its hinges; Snape was lifted off his feet and slammed into the wall, then slid down it to the floor, a trickle of blood oozing from under his hair. He had been knocked out. Jacob looked around. Ron, Aurora and Hermione had tried to disarm Snape at exactly the same moment. Snape’s wand soared in a high arc and landed on the bed next to Crookshanks.   

“You shouldn’t have done that you should have left him to me. …” said Black, looking at Harry. “We attacked a teacher. … We attacked a teacher … , Oh, we’re going to be in so much trouble —” Hermione whimpered, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. “You say that like you didn’t set him on fire in 1 st year, Granger” Jacob muttered.  Lupin was struggling against his bonds. Black bent down quickly and untied him. Lupin straightened up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had cut into them. “Thank you, Harry,” he said. “I’m still not saying I believe you,” he told Lupin. “Then it’s time we offered you some proof,” said Lupin. “You, boy — give me Peter, please. Now.” Ron clutched Scabbers closer to his chest. “Come off it, Are you trying to say he broke out of Azkaban just to get his hands on Scabbers? I mean … Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat — there are millions of rats — how’s he supposed to know which one he’s after if he was locked up in Azkaban?” Ron said weakly. Jacob rolled his eyes.  “You know, Sirius, that’s a fair question,” said Lupin, turning to Black and frowning slightly. “How did you find out where he was?” Black put one of his clawlike hands inside his robes and took out a crumpled piece of paper, which he smoothed flat and held out to show the others. It was the photograph of Ron and his family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet the previous summer, and there, on Ron’s shoulder, was Scabbers.  

“How did you get this?”   

“Fudge, When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page … on this boy’s shoulder. … I knew him at once … how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts … to where Harry was. …”  

“My God, His front paw …”  

“What about it?” said Ron defiantly.  

 “He’s got a toe missing,”   

“Of course, So simple … so brilliant … he cut it off himself?”  

“Just before he transformed, When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I’d betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself — and sped down into the sewer with the other rats. …”  

“Didn’t you ever hear, Ron? The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger.”  

“Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He’s been in my family for ages, right —” Ron replied.  “Twelve years, in fact, Didn’t you ever wonder why he was living so long?” said Lupin.  “We — we’ve been taking good care of him!” said Ron. “Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he? I’d guess he’s been losing weight ever since he heard Sirius was on the loose again. …” said Lupin. “He’s been scared of that mad cat!” said Ron, nodding toward Crookshanks, who was still purring on the bed. “The cat that only liked to attack your rat. My rat’s fine” Jacob muttered   

“This cat isn’t mad, He’s the most intelligent of his kind I’ve ever met. He recognized Peter for what he was right away. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. … Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he’s been helping me. …”   

  “What do you mean?” breathed Hermione.  

 “He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn’t … so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me. … As I understand it, he took them from a boy’s bedside table. … But Peter got wind of what was going on and ran for it. … This cat — Crookshanks, did you call him? — told me Peter had left blood on the sheets. … I supposed he bit himself. … Well, faking his own death had worked once. …”  

“And why did he fake his death? Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!” Harry said furiously. “No, Harry —” said Lupin, “And now you’ve come to finish him off!” Harry argued. “Yes, I have,” said Black, with an evil look at Scabbers. “Then I should’ve let Snape take you!” Harry shouted. “Harry, don’t you see? All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down — but it was the other way around, don’t you see? Peter betrayed your mother and father — Sirius tracked Peter down —” said Lupin hurriedly,  “THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Harry yelled. “HE WAS THEIR SECRET-KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP. HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!” He was pointing at Black, who shook his head slowly; the sunken eyes were suddenly overbright.  

“Harry.... Jacob … I as good as killed them, I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret-Keeper instead of me. … I’m to blame, I know it. … The night they died, I’d arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he’d gone. Yet there was no sign of a struggle. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents’ house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies … I realized what Peter must’ve done … what I’d done. …”  

His voice broke. He turned away. “Enough of this, there’s one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, give me that rat.” said Lupin, and there was a steely note in his voice Harry had never heard before.  “What are you going to do with him if I give him to you?” Ron asked Lupin tensely. “Force him to show himself,” said Lupin. “If he really is a rat, it won’t hurt him.” Ron hesitated. Then at long last, he held out Scabbers and Lupin took him. Scabbers began to squeak without stopping, twisting and turning, his tiny black eyes bulging in his head. “Ready, Sirius?” said Lupin. Black had already retrieved Snape’s wand from the bed. He approached Lupin and the struggling rat, and his wet eyes suddenly seemed to be burning in his face.  

“Together?”  

“I think so, On the count of three. One — two — THREE!”  

A flash of blue-white light erupted from both wands; for a moment, Scabbers was frozen in midair, his small gray form twisting madly — Ron yelled — the rat fell and hit the floor. There was another blinding flash of light and then — It was like watching a speeded-up film of a growing tree. A head was shooting upward from the ground; limbs were sprouting; a moment later, a man was standing where Scabbers had been, cringing and wringing his hands. Crookshanks was spitting and snarling on the bed; the hair on his back was standing up. He was a very short man, hardly taller than Harry, Jacob, Aurora and Hermione. His thin, colourless hair was unkempt and there was a large bald patch on top. He had the shrunken appearance of a plump man who has lost a lot of weight in a short time. His skin looked grubby, almost like Scabbers’s fur, and something of the rat lingered around his pointed nose and his very small, watery eyes. He looked around at them all, his breathing fast and shallow. Harry saw his eyes dart to the door and back again. “Good thing that spell on the train 1 st year didn’t work, Weasley, or he’d be yellow” Jacob muttered leaning back on the wall.   

“Well, hello, Peter, Long time, no see.” said Lupin pleasantly, as though rats frequently erupted into old school friends around him.  “S — Sirius … R — Remus …” Even Pettigrew’s voice was squeaky. Again, his eyes darted toward the door. “My friends … my old friends …” Black’s wand arm rose, but Lupin seized him around the wrist, gave him a warning look, then turned again to Pettigrew, his voice light and casual. “We’ve been having a little chat, Peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finer points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed —”  

“Remus,” gasped Pettigrew, and Harry could see beads of sweat breaking out over his pasty face, “you don’t believe him, do you… ? He tried to kill me, Remus. …”  

“So we’ve heard, I’d like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you’d be so —”  

“He’s come to try and kill me again! He killed Lily and James and now he’s going to kill me too. … You’ve got to help me, Remus. …”  

“No one’s going to try and kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,”   

“Sorted things out? I knew he’d come after me! I knew he’d be back for me! I’ve been waiting for this for twelve years!”  

“You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban? When nobody has ever done it before?”  

“He’s got dark powers the rest of us can only dream of! How else did he get out of there? I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!”  

Black started to laugh, a horrible, mirthless laugh that filled the whole room. “Voldemort, teach me tricks?” he said. Pettigrew flinched as though Black had brandished a whip at him. “What, scared to hear your old master’s name?” said Black. “I don’t blame you, Peter. His lot aren’t very happy with you, are they?”  

“Don’t know what you mean, Sirius —”   

“You haven’t been hiding from me for twelve years, You’ve been hiding from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter. … They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them. … I’ve heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters’ on your information … and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort’s supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they’ve seen the error of their ways. … If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter —”  

“Don’t know … what you’re talking about… , You don’t believe this — this madness, Remus —”  

“I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,” said Lupin evenly.  

“Innocent, but scared! If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban — the spy, Sirius Black!”  

“How dare you,” Black growled, sounding suddenly like the bear-sized dog he had been. “I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter — I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you? It used to be us … me and Remus … and James. …” Pettigrew wiped his face again; he was almost panting for breath.  

“Me, a spy … must be out of your mind … never … don’t know how you can say such a —”  

“Lily and James only made you Secret-Keeper because I suggested it, I thought it was the perfect plan … a bluff. … Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you. … It must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.”  

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like “far-fetched” and “lunacy,” but he couldn’t help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew’s face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door. “Professor Lupin? Can — can I say something?” said Hermione timidly. “Certainly, Hermione,” said Lupin courteously. “Well — Scabbers — I mean, this — this man — he’s been sleeping in Harry’s dormitory for three years. If he’s working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry or Jacob before now?” Hermione asked. “Eww a grown man has been watching little boys sleep for 12 years. That's gross!” Jacob muttered but once again, everyone ignored him. “There! Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair of Harry’s head! Why should I?” said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand.  

 “I’ll tell you why, because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort’s been in hiding for fifteen years, they say he’s half dead. You weren’t about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore’s nose, for a wreck of a wizard who’d lost all of his power, were you? You’d want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn’t you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren’t you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him. …”  

Pettigrew opened his mouth and closed it several times. He seemed to have lost the ability to talk. “Er — Mr. Black — Sirius? If you don’t mind me asking, how — how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn’t use Dark Magic?” said Hermione. Black jumped at being addressed like this and stared at Hermione as though he had never seen anything quite like her. “Thank you!” gasped Pettigrew, nodding frantically at her. “Exactly! Precisely what I —” But Lupin silenced him with a look. Black was frowning slightly at Hermione, but not as though he were annoyed with her. He seemed to be pondering his answer.  

“I don’t know how I did it, I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy thought, so the dementors couldn’t suck it out of me … but it kept me sane and knowing who I am … helped me keep my powers … so when it all became … too much … I could transform in my cell … become a dog. Dementors can’t see, you know. … They feel their way toward people by feeding off their emotions. … They could tell that my feelings were less — less human, less complex when I was a dog … but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn’t trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand. …. But then I saw Peter in that picture … I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry and Jacob… perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again. …… ready to strike at the moment he could be sure of allies … and to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who’d dare say he’d betrayed Lord Voldemort? He’d be welcomed back with honours. … So, you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive. … It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the dementors couldn’t destroy it. … It wasn’t a happy feeling … it was an obsession … but it gave me strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened my door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog. … It’s so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused. … I was thin, very thin … thin enough to slip through the bars. … I swam as a dog back to the mainland. … I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog. I’ve been living in the forest ever since, except when I came to watch the Quidditch, of course. You fly as well as your father did, Harry. … Believe me, believe me, Harry, Believe me, Jacob I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them.”  

And at long last, Harry believed him. Throat too tight to speak, he nodded. Jacob just rolled his eyes. “I didn’t care, and I still don’t care” Jacob muttered.  “No!” Pettigrew had fallen to his knees as though Harry’s nod had been his own death sentence. He shuffled forward on his knees, grovelling, his hands clasped in front of him as though praying. “Sirius — it’s me … it’s Peter … your friend … you wouldn’t …” Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. “There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them, You don’t believe this … wouldn’t Sirius have told you they’d changed the plan?” said Black.   

“Remus! You don’t believe this … wouldn’t Sirius have told you they’d changed the plan?” Pettigrew squeaked, turning to Lupin instead, writhing imploringly in front of him.  “Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter,” said Lupin. “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?” he said casually over Pettigrew’s head. “Forgive me, Remus,” said Black. “Not at all, Padfoot, old friend, “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?” said Lupin, who was now rolling up his sleeves.   “Of course, Shall we kill him together?” said Black, and the ghost of a grin flitted across his gaunt face. He, too, began rolling up his sleeves.  “Yes, I think so,” said Lupin grimly. “Oh, how romantic” Jacob mumbled.   

 “You wouldn’t … you won’t…,” gasped Pettigrew. And he scrambled around to Ron. “Ron … haven’t I been a good friend … a good pet? You won’t let them kill me, Ron, will you … you’re on my side, aren’t you?” But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion. “I let you sleep in my bed!” he said. “See this is gross. There should be a test testing if all parts are humans in disguise” Jacob mumbled.  “Kind boy … kind master … you won’t let them do it. … I was your rat. … I was a good pet. …” Pettigrew crawled toward Ron. “If you made a better rat than a human, it’s not much to boast about, Peter,” said Black harshly. Ron, going still paler with pain, wrenched his broken leg out of Pettigrew’s reach.   

Pettigrew turned on his knees, staggered forward, and seized the hem of Hermione’s robes. “Sweet girl … clever girl … you — you won’t let them. … Help me. …” Hermione pulled her robes out of Pettigrew’s clutching hands and backed away against the wall, looking horrified. Pettigrew turned to Aurora and bonnie “cute girl, sweet aurora, you won’t let them kill me” Pettigrew begged but Black would let the two girls' answer. Pettigrew knelt, trembling uncontrollably, and turned his head slowly toward Jacob then changed his mind and turned to Harry. “Harry … Harry … you look just like your father … just like him. …”  

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY? HOW DARE YOU FACE JACOB? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF THEM?”  

“Harry,” whispered Pettigrew, shuffling toward him, hands outstretched. “Harry, James wouldn’t have wanted me killed. … James would have understood, Harry … he would have shown me mercy. …” Both Black and Lupin strode forward, seized Pettigrew’s shoulders, and threw him backward onto the floor. He sat there, twitching with terror, staring up at them. “You sold Lily and James to Voldemort,” said Black, who was shaking too. “Do you deny it?” Pettigrew burst into tears. It was horrible to watch, like an oversized, balding baby, cowering on the floor.   

“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord … you have no idea … he has weapons you can’t imagine. … I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James. I never meant it to happen. … He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named forced me —”  

“DON’T LIE!! YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”  

“He — he was taking over everywhere! Wh — what was there to be gained by refusing him?”  

“What was there to be gained by fighting the most evil wizard who has ever existed? Only innocent lives, Peter!”  

“You don’t understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!”  

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!”  

Black and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wands raised. “You should have realized,” said Lupin quietly, “if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter.” Hermione covered her face with her hands and turned to the wall. Bonnie and Aurora also burried their faces. Jacob smirked, watching.  “NO!” Harry yelled. He ran forward, placing himself in front of Pettigrew, facing the wands. “You can’t kill him,” he said breathlessly. “You can’t.” Black and Lupin both looked staggered. “Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents, This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family.” Black snarled.   “I know, We’ll take him up to the castle. We’ll hand him over to the dementors. … He can go to Azkaban … but don’t kill him.” Harry panted.  “Harry! You — thank you — it’s more than I deserve — thank you —” gasped Pettigrew, and he flung his arms around Harry’s knees.  “Get off me,” Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew’s hands off him in disgust. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because — I don’t reckon my dad would’ve wanted them to become killers — just for you.” No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other. Then, with one movement, they lowered their wands. Jacob smirk dropped.   

“You’re the only person who has the right to decide, Harry, But think … think what he did. …” said Black.  “He can go to Azkaban,” Harry repeated. “If anyone deserves that place, he does. …” Pettigrew was still wheezing behind him. “Very well,” said Lupin. “Stand aside, Harry.” Harry hesitated. “I’m going to tie him up,” said Lupin. “That’s all, I swear.” Harry stepped out of the way. Thin cords shot from Lupin’s wand this time, and next moment, Pettigrew was wriggling on the floor, bound and gagged. “But if you transform, Peter,” growled Black, his own wand pointing at Pettigrew too, “we will kill you. You agree, Harry?” Harry looked down at the pitiful figure on the floor and nodded so that Pettigrew could see him.   

“Right,” said Lupin, suddenly businesslike. “Ron, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing.” He hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron’s leg with his wand, and muttered, “Ferula.” Bandages spun up Ron’s leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet; Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn’t wince. “That’s better, Thanks.” he said.   

“What about Professor Snape?” said Hermione in a small voice, looking down at Snape’s prone figure. “There’s nothing seriously wrong with him,” said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. “You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don’t revive him until we’re safely back in the castle. We can take him like this. …” He muttered, “Mobilicorpus.” As though invisible strings were tied to Snape’s wrists, neck, and knees, he was pulled into a standing position, head still lolling unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet. He hung a few inches above the ground, his limp feet dangling. Lupin picked up the Invisibility Cloak and tucked it safely into his pocket. “And three of us should be chained to this, just to make sure” said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe. “I’ll do it,” said Lupin. “And me,” said Ron savagely, limping forward. “I guess I should do something to try and get out of the trouble that these four will get excused from for being Gryffindor's” Jacob said. Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air; soon Pettigrew was upright again, left arm chained to Lupin’s right, right arm to Ron’s left and middle to Jacob’s middle. Ron’s face was set. He seemed to have taken Scabbers’s true identity as a personal insult. Crookshanks leapt lightly off the bed and led the way out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held jauntily high.  

Crookshanks led the way down the stairs; Lupin, Pettigrew, Jacob and Ron went next, looking like entrants in a six-legged race. Next came Professor Snape, drifting creepily along, his toes hitting each stair as they descended, held up by his own wand, which was being pointed at him by Sirius. Harry, Aurora, Bonnie and Hermione brought up the rear. Getting back into the tunnel was difficult. Lupin, Pettigrew, Jacob and Ron had to turn sideways to manage it; Lupin still had Pettigrew covered with his wand. Crookshanks was still in the lead. Harry went right after Black, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of them; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Harry had the impression Black was making no effort to prevent this.  

“You know what this means? Turning Pettigrew in? Harry?”  

“You’re free,”   

“Yes …, But I’m also — I don’t know if anyone ever told you — I’m your godfather.”  

“Yeah, I knew that,   

“Well … your parents appointed me your guardian, If anything happened to them … I’ll understand, of course, if you want to stay with your aunt and uncle,” said Black. “But … well … think about it. Once my name’s cleared … if you wanted a … a different home … and Jacob you can come to because Remus can take custody of you because I’ll be there to sort him out”  

“What — live with you? Leave the Dursleys?”  

“Of course, I thought you wouldn’t want to, I understand, I just thought I’d —”  

“Are you insane? Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! I’m sure Jacob does to. Have you got a house? When can I move in?”  

“You want to? You mean it?”  

“Yeah, I mean it!”   

No one spoke again until they had reached the end of the tunnel. Crookshanks darted up first; he had evidently pressed his paw to the knot on the trunk, because Lupin, Pettigrew, Jacob and Ron clambered upward without any sound of savaging branches. Black saw Snape up through the hole, then stood back for Harry, Bonnie, Aurora and Hermione to pass. At last, all of them were out.   

The grounds were very dark now; the only light came from the distant windows of the castle. Without a word, they set off. Pettigrew was still wheezing and occasionally whimpering. “One wrong move, Peter,” said Lupin threateningly. His wand was still pointed sideways at Pettigrew’s chest. Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slowly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, his chin bumping on his chest. And then — A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in moonlight. Snape collided with Lupin, Pettigrew, Jacob and Ron, who had stopped abruptly. Black froze. He flung out one arm to make Harry, Bonnie, Aurora and Hermione stop. Lupin had gone rigid. Then his limbs began to shake.  

“Oh, my — He didn’t take his potion tonight! He’s not safe!”  

“Run, Run. Now.”  

Jacob couldn’t run. He was still chained up to Ron, Pettigrew and Lupin. There was a terrible snarling noise. Lupin’s head was lengthening. So was his body. His shoulders were hunching. Hair was sprouting visibly on his face and hands, which were curling into clawed paws. Crookshanks’s hair was on end again; he was backing away — As the werewolf reared, snapping its long jaws, Sirius disappeared from Harry’s side. He had transformed. The enormous, bearlike dog bounded forward. As the werewolf wrenched itself free of the manacle binding it (the chains broke), the dog seized it about the neck and pulled it backward, away from Ron, Jacob and Pettigrew. They were locked, jaw to jaw, claws ripping at each other — Pettigrew had dived for Lupin’s dropped wand. Ron fell. There was a bang, a burst of light — and Ron lay motionless on the ground. Another bang — Crookshanks and Jacob flew into the air and back to the earth in a heap. Everything went black for Jacob.   

Jacob woke up the next morning to a headache and in the hospital wing. Only Ron was there with him, his leg getting healed and it was still early so none of the friends were allowed to visit. Jacob sighed and looked at the cloak. It was 6:30am. Pomfrey will come in in half an hour to check on them so there was no point going back to sleep. So, he just waited. Like he guessed at 7am, Pomfrey came and checked on them. Ron was still asleep but because Jacob was awake, she did his check-up, gave him a pain potion and gave him breakfast. “If you feel better, you may go to your common room” she told him, so he did.  Back at the common room, Draco informed him all about Sirius Black being caught and escaping again. So, Jacob did his fair share of sharing and informed the whole of slytherin (all 7 years) that their D.A.D.A professor was a werewolf, and all the professors knew and kept it secret. Those Slytherins' then told their friends, and their friends told other people and before anyone knew it, the whole school knew that Remus lupin was a werewolf, and they were telling their parents. This meant Lupin had to leave.  Though on his way out he did give Jacob a signed permission slip saying “I can do this as your godfather, Sirius is doing the same for Remus”.   

“I’m telling you the D.A.D.A position is cursed”  

“Adults really don’t like our safety don’t they?”  

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Jacob had passed every subject with high scores. 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. And before anyone knew it, they were on the Hogwarts express heading back to London.   

“Father says He’ll get you a ticket for the quidditch world cup if you can get yourself there.  He’s too busy for us to come pick you up. You can stay in our accommodation though”  

“I will find a way of getting there”  

Chapter Text

“You had the dream to?”  

“Yeah Jay”  

One night in the middle of summer, Harry and Jacob were both woken up after having a vivid dream about a gardener called Frank Bryce, a house in Little Hangleton, Lord Voldemort talking to Wormtail, someone called Bartha Jones already being dead and the death of Frank Bryce by Voldemort. It was one wired dream. The twins' scars were burning with agony; Harry’s on his head and Jacob’s on his shoulder. Jacob sat up and watched as Harry got up and passed around the room. “Can you pass me my schoolwork? I might as well do my homework if I can’t sleep” Jacob asked Harry. Harry quickly passed over the schoolwork from the trunk before looking in the mirror. Because of what happened last year, the twins had been able to sneak most of their stuff into their bedroom this year. So, the room was a mess. Two large wooden trunks stood open at the foot of the bed, each revealing a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spellbooks. Rolls of parchment littered that part of the desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which Harry’s snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. Jacob tried to concentrate on his work but his shoulder hurt too much, so he just threw it to the desk as Harry climbed back into the bed. They both were started to get a bit too big to share a bed, but the Dursley’s wouldn’t get another bed.   

“Two weeks left, and we can get out of this hell whole. Just two weeks left”  

“Hermione and Aurora would be so mad right now if they knew my scar hurt”  

“Mine hurts to Harry”  

“But no one else knows you have a scar expect me, Jay”  

“Yeah True..... Maybe I should write to Sirius”  

“Huh?”  

Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius, then paused. “So, are you writing or not? If yeah, tell him to get Lupin to stop writing to me. I know he’s my bloody godfather and he thinks he needs to make up for things but still” Jacob called over to Harry. “Do you not like having a godfather, Jacob?” Harry replied. “Just shut up and talk to your dodfather” Jacob said. Harry rolled his eyes and went back to writing.   

Dear Sirius,  

Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window.  

Things are the same as usual here. Dudley’s diet isn’t going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they’d have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That’s a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn’t even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things.  

I’m okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to.  

A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don’t reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward?  

I’ll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she’s off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbeak for me.  

Oh, Jacob says to get Moony to stop writing to him. I don’t know why.  

Harry  

Harry folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. “Come on. We better get ready and go down for breakfast” Harry said causing Jacob to groan but get up. The two got dressed before going down to breakfast.   

By the time Harry and Jacob arrived in the kitchen, the three Dursleys were already seated around the table. None of them looked up as they entered or sat down. Uncle Vernon’s large red face was hidden behind the morning’s Daily Mail, and Aunt Petunia was cutting a grapefruit into quarters, her lips pursed over her horselike teeth. Dudley looked furious and sulky, and somehow seemed to be taking up even more space than usual. This was saying something, as he always took up an entire side of the square table by himself. When Aunt Petunia put a quarter of unsweetened grapefruit onto Dudley’s plate with a tremulous “There you are, Diddy darling,” Dudley glowered at her. Uncle Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disapproval and looked down at his own grapefruit quarter. “Is this it?” he said grumpily to Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia gave him a severe look, and then nodded pointedly at Dudley, who had already finished his own grapefruit quarter and was eyeing Harry’s and Jacob’s with a very sour look in his piggy little eyes. Uncle Vernon gave a great sigh, which ruffled his large, bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon.  

The doorbell rang. Uncle Vernon heaved himself out of his chair and set off down the hall. Quick as a flash, while his mother was occupied with the kettle, Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernon’s grapefruit. Jacob heard talking at the door, and someone laughing, and Uncle Vernon answering curtly. Then the front door closed, and the sound of ripping paper came from the hall. Aunt Petunia set the teapot down on the table and looked curiously around to see where Uncle Vernon had got to. She didn’t have to wait long to find out; after about a minute, he was back. He looked livid. “You,” he barked at the twins. “In the living room. Now.” Bewildered, wondering what on earth he was supposed to have done this time, the twind got up and followed Uncle Vernon out of the kitchen and into the next room. Uncle Vernon closed the door sharply behind them.  

“So,” he said, marching over to the fireplace and turning to face the twins as though he were about to pronounce him under arrest. “So” Harry had to stop Jacob saying, “so what” so instead he just glared.  “This just arrived,” said Uncle Vernon. He brandished a piece of purple writing paper at Harry. “A letter. About you two.” Jacob’s and Harry’s confusion increased. Uncle Vernon glared at them, then looked down at the letter and began to read aloud:  

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,  

We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. As Harry might have told you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place this Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn’t hosted the cup for thirty years, and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. We will invite Jacob to stay with us aswell, we don’t want to split the twin’s up for too long.  It would be best for Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the Muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. Hoping to see Harry and Jacob soon,  

Yours sincerely,  

Molly Weasley  

P.S. I do hope we’ve put enough stamps on.”  

Uncle Vernon finished reading, put his hand back into his breast pocket, and drew out something else. “Look at this,” he growled. He held up the envelope in which Mrs. Weasley’s letter had come, and Jacob had to fight down a laugh. Every bit of it was covered in stamps except for a square inch on the front, into which Mrs. Weasley had squeezed the Dursleys’ address in minute writing. “She did put enough stamps on, then,” said Harry, trying to sound as though Mrs. Weasley’s was a mistake anyone could make.  His uncle’s eyes flashed. “The postman noticed, very interested to know where this letter came from, he was. That’s why he rang the doorbell. Seemed to think it was funny.” he said through gritted teeth. “It kind of is. Bet Mr Weasley was very excited to send this the muggle way” Jacob laughed. Uncle Vernon was still glaring at the twins. They waited for Uncle Vernon to say something, but he merely continued to glare. Harry decided to break the silence. “So — can I .... can we go then?” he asked. A slight spasm crossed Uncle Vernon’s large purple face. The mustache bristled. To give himself thinking time, it seemed, he looked down at Mrs. Weasley’s letter again. “Who is this woman?” he said, staring at the signature with distaste. “You’ve seen her, She’s my friend Ron’s mother, she was meeting him off the Hog — off the school train at the end of last term.” said Harry.  Uncle Vernon screwed up his enormous face as though trying to remember something very unpleasant. “Dumpy sort of woman?” he growled finally. “Load of children with red hair?” Jacob smirked. “Yep, that’s her” he replied earning a glare from Harry.  Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again.  

“Quidditch, Quidditch — what is this rubbish?”  

“It’s a sport, Played on broom —”  

“All right, all right! send us your answer … in the normal way. What does she mean, ‘the normal way’?”   

“Normal for us, you know, owl post. That’s what’s normal for wizards.”  

Uncle Vernon looked as outraged as if Harry had just uttered a disgusting swear word. Shaking with anger, he shot a nervous look through the window, as though expecting to see some of the neighbours with their ears pressed against the glass. “How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof? You stand there, in the clothes Petunia and I have put on your ungrateful back —” he hissed, his face now a rich plum colour.  “Only after Dudley finished with them,” said Jacob coldly. Despite buying some new clothes last summer, just like Harry, Jacob had to spend the summer in the hand me down clothes, so the Dudley’s don’t get suspicious.  “I will not be spoken to like that!” said Uncle Vernon, trembling with rage. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can We go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream. “You’re — you’re writing to him, are you?” said Uncle Vernon. “Well — yeah, It’s been a while since he heard from me, and, you know, if he doesn’t, he might start thinking something’s wrong” said Harry, casually.  “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy … this stupid … this World Cup thing. You write and tell these — these Weasleys they’re to pick you both up, mind. I haven’t got time to go dropping you off all over the country. And you can spend the rest of the summer there. And you can tell your — your godfather … tell him … tell him you’re going.” Vernon said, filled with fear.  “Okay then,” said Harry brightly. With that the twins turned and walked off, going back to their room.  

Hedwig was back when they arrived. She was sitting in her cage, staring at Harry with her enormous amber eyes, and clicking her beak in the way that meant she was annoyed about something. Exactly what was annoying her became apparent almost at once. “OUCH!” said Harry as what appeared to be a small, gray, feathery tennis ball collided with the side of his head.  Jacob burst out laughing. Harry massaged the spot furiously, looking up to see what had hit him, and saw a minute owl, small enough to fit into the palm of his hand, whizzing excitedly around the room like a loose firework.  “Shut up Harry” Harry said as he realized that the owl had dropped a letter at his feet. Harry bent down, recognized Ron’s handwriting, then tore open the envelope. Inside was a hastily scribbled note.  

Harry — DAD GOT THE TICKETS — Ireland versus Bulgaria, Monday night. Mum’s writing to the Muggles to ask you to stay. They might already have the letter, I don’t know how fast Muggle post is. Thought I’d send this with Pig anyway. We’re coming for you whether the Muggles like it or not, you can’t miss the World Cup, only Mum and Dad reckon it’s better if we pretend to ask their permission first. If they say yes, send Pig back with your answer pronto, and we’ll come and get you at five o’clock on Sunday. If they say no, send Pig back pronto and we’ll come and get you at five o’clock on Sunday anyway. Aurora, Lisa and Hermione’s arriving this afternoon. Percy’s started work — the Department of International Magical Cooperation. Don’t mention anything about Abroad while you’re here unless you want the pants bored off you. Lisa isn’t coming to the match. She’s going off to spend two weeks with the Lovegood's, they live just over the hill from us. Tell Jacob I’m afraid we don’t have a ticket for him, but he can still say at the burrow  

See you soon —  

Ron  

“Calm down!” Harry said as the small owl flew low over his head, twittering madly with what Harry could only assume was pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. “Come here, I need you to take my answer back!” The owl fluttered down on top of Hedwig’s cage. Hedwig looked coldly up at it, as though daring it to try and come any closer. Harry seized his eagle-feather quill once more, grabbed a fresh piece of parchment, and wrote:  

Ron,   

it’s all okay, the Muggles say we can come. See you five o’clock tomorrow. Can’t wait.  

Harry  

He folded this note up very small, and with immense difficulty, tied it to the tiny owl’s leg as it hopped on the spot with excitement. The moment the note was secure, the owl was off again; it zoomed out of the window and out of sight. Harry turned to Hedwig. “Feeling up to a long journey?” he asked her. Hedwig hooted in a dignified sort of a way. “Can you take this to Sirius for me?” he said, picking up his letter. “Hang on … I just want to finish it.” He unfolded the parchment and hastily added a postscript.  

If you want to contact me, I’ll be at my friend Ron Weasley’s for the rest of the summer. His dad’s got us tickets for the Quidditch World Cup!  

The letter finished, he tied it to Hedwig’s leg; she kept unusually still, as though determined to show him how a real post owl should behave. “I’ll be at Ron’s when you get back, all right?” Harry told her. She nipped his finger affectionately, then, with a soft swooshing noise, spread her enormous wings and soared out of the open window.  

“Harry, you get to see Aurora earlier. Are you going to kiss her?”  

“Shut up, Jacob”  

By twelve o’clock the next day, Harry’s and Jacob’s school trunks were packed with their school things and all their most prized possessions. They had emptied their hiding place under the loose floorboard of all food, double-checked every nook and cranny of their bedroom for forgotten spellbooks or quills, and taken down the chart on the wall counting down the days to September the first. The atmosphere inside number four, Privet Drive was extremely tense. The imminent arrival at their house of an assortment of wizards was making the Dursleys uptight and irritable. Uncle Vernon had looked downright alarmed when Harry informed him that the Weasleys would be arriving at five o’clock the very next day. Uncle Vernon had put on his best suit. To some people, this might have looked like a gesture of welcome, but Jacob knew it was because Uncle Vernon wanted to look impressive and intimidating. Dudley, on the other hand, looked somehow diminished. This was not because the diet was at last taking effect, but due to fright. Dudley had emerged from his last encounter with a fully-grown wizard with a curly pig’s tail poking out of the seat of his trousers, and Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had had to pay for its removal at a private hospital in London. It wasn’t altogether surprising, therefore, that Dudley kept running his hand nervously over his backside, and walking sideways from room to room, so as not to present the same target to the enemy. Lunch was an almost silent meal. Dudley didn’t even protest at the food (cottage cheese and grated celery). Aunt Petunia wasn’t eating anything at all. Her arms were folded, her lips were pursed, and she seemed to be chewing her tongue, as though biting back the furious diatribe she longed to throw at Harry and Jacob. Jacob and Harry spent most of the afternoon in their bedroom; they couldn’t stand watching Aunt Petunia peer out through the net curtains every few seconds, as though there had been a warning about an escaped rhinoceros. Finally, at a quarter to five, the twins went back downstairs and into the living room. Aunt Petunia was compulsively straightening cushions. Uncle Vernon was pretending to read the paper, but his tiny eyes were not moving, and Jacob was sure he was really listening with all his might for the sound of an approaching car. Dudley was crammed into an armchair, his porky hands beneath him, clamped firmly around his bottom.    

But five o’clock came and then went. Uncle Vernon, perspiring slightly in his suit, opened the front door, peered up and down the street, then withdrew his head quickly. “They’re late!” he snarled at Harry. “I know,” said Harry. “Maybe — er — the traffic’s bad, or something.” Ten past five … then a quarter past five …  At half past, Jacob heard Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia conversing in terse mutters in the living room.  

“No consideration at all.”  

“We might’ve had an engagement.”  

“Maybe they think they’ll get invited to dinner if they’re late.”  

“Well, they most certainly won’t be, they’ll take the boys and go, there’ll be no hanging around. That’s if they’re coming at all. Probably mistaken the day. I daresay their kind don’t set much store by punctuality. Either that or they drive some tin-pot car that’s broken d — AAAAAAAARRRRRGH!”  

Harry and Jacob jumped up. From the other side of the living room door came the sounds of the three Dursleys scrambling, panic-stricken, across the room. Next moment Dudley came flying into the hall, looking terrified. “What happened?” said Harry. “What’s the matter?” But Dudley didn’t seem able to speak. Hands still clamped over his buttocks, he waddled as fast as he could into the kitchen. Harry and Jacob hurried into the living room. Loud hangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Dursleys’ boarded-up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it. “What is it?” gasped Aunt Petunia, who had backed into the wall and was staring, terrified, toward the fire. “What is it, Vernon?” But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.  

“Ouch! Fred, no — go back, go back, there’s been some kind of mistake — tell George not to — OUCH! George, no, there’s no room, go back quickly and tell Ron —”  

“Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad — maybe he’ll be able to let us out —”  

“Harry? Harry, can you hear us?”  

The Dursleys rounded on Harry like a pair of angry wolverines.  

“What is this? What’s going on?” growled Uncle Vernon.  “They — they’ve tried to get here by Floo powder,” said Harry, fighting a mad desire to laugh. “They can travel by fire — only you’ve blocked the fireplace — hang on —” He approached the fireplace and called through the boards.  

“Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?”  

 “Shh!”  

“Mr. Weasley, it’s Harry … the fireplace has been blocked up. You won’t be able to get through there.”  

“Damn! What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?”  

“They’ve got an electric fire,”   

“Really? Eclectic, you say? With a plug? Gracious, I must see that. … Let’s think … ouch, Ron!”   

“What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?”  

“Oh no, Ron, No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up.”  

“Yeah, we’re having the time of our lives here,”    

“Boys, boys … I’m trying to think what to do. … Yes … only way … Stand back, Harry.”  

Harry retreated to the sofa. Uncle Vernon, however, moved forward. “Wait a moment!” he bellowed at the fire. “What exactly are you going to —” BANG. The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded up fireplace burst outward, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table; Uncle Vernon caught her before she hit the floor, and gaped, speechless, at the Weasleys, all of whom had bright red hair, including Fred and George, who were identical to the last freckle. “That’s better,” panted Mr. Weasley, brushing dust from his long green robes and straightening his glasses. “Ah — you must be Harry’s aunt and uncle!” Tall, thin, and balding, he moved toward Uncle Vernon, his hand outstretched, but Uncle Vernon backed away several paces, dragging Aunt Petunia. Words utterly failed Uncle Vernon. His best suit was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and mustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years. “Er — yes — sorry about that,” said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. “It’s all my fault. It just didn’t occur to me that we wouldn’t be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see — just for an afternoon, you know, so we could get Harry and Jacob. Muggle fireplaces aren’t supposed to be connected, strictly speaking — but I’ve got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don’t worry. I’ll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate.” Jacob was ready to bet that the Dursleys hadn’t understood a single word of this. They were still gaping at Mr. Weasley, thunderstruck. Aunt Petunia staggered upright again and hid behind Uncle Vernon.  

 “Hello, Harry! Jacob! Got your trunks ready?” said Mr. Weasley brightly. “Their upstairs,” said Harry, grinning back. “We’ll get them,” said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. “Well,” said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. “Very — erm — very nice place you’ve got here.” As the usually spotless living room was now covered in dust and bits of brick, this remark didn’t go down too well with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon’s face purpled once more, and Aunt Petunia started chewing her tongue again. However, they seemed too scared to actually say anything. Mr. Weasley was looking around. He loved everything to do with Muggles. Harry could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder. “They run off eckeltricity, do they?” he said knowledgeably. “Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs,” he added to Uncle Vernon. “And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I’m mad, but there you are.” Uncle Vernon clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. He moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Aunt Petunia from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack.  

 Dudley suddenly reappeared in the room. Dudley edged along the wall, gazing at Mr. Weasley with terrified eyes, and attempted to conceal himself behind his mother and father. Unfortunately, Uncle Vernon’s bulk, while sufficient to hide bony Aunt Petunia, was nowhere near enough to conceal Dudley. “Ah, this is your cousin, is it, Harry?” said Mr. Weasley, taking another brave stab at making conversation. “Yep, that’s Dudley.” said Harry. Dudley was still clutching his bottom as though afraid it might fall off. Mr. Weasley, however, seemed genuinely concerned at Dudley’s peculiar behaviour. Indeed, from the tone of his voice when he next spoke, Jacob was quite sure that Mr. Weasley thought Dudley was quite as mad as the Dursleys thought he was, except that Mr. Weasley felt sympathy rather than fear. “Having a good holiday, Dudley?” he said kindly. Dudley whimpered. Jacob saw his hands tighten still harder over his massive backside.   

Fred and George came back into the room carrying Harry’s and Jacob’s school trunks. They glanced around as they entered and spotted Dudley. Their faces cracked into identical evil grins. “Ah, right,” said Mr. Weasley. “Better get cracking then.” He pushed up the sleeves of his robes and took out his wand. Jacob saw the Dursleys draw back against the wall as one. “Incendio!” said Mr. Weasley, pointing his wand at the hole in the wall behind him. Flames rose at once in the fireplace, crackling merrily as though they had been burning for hours. Mr. Weasley took a small drawstring bag from his pocket, untied it, took a pinch of the powder inside, and threw it onto the flames, which turned emerald green and roared higher than ever. “Off you go then, Fred with Jacob’s trunk,” said Mr. Weasley. “Coming,” said Fred. “Oh no — hang on —” A bag of sweets had spilled out of Fred’s pocket and the contents were now rolling in every direction — big, fat toffees in brightly coloured wrappers. Fred scrambled around, cramming them back into his pocket, then gave the Dursleys a cheery wave, stepped forward, and walked right into the fire with the trunk, saying “the Burrow!” Aunt Petunia gave a little shuddering gasp. There was a whooshing sound, and Fred vanished. “Right then, George,” said Mr. Weasley, “you and Harry’s trunk.” Harry helped George carry the trunk forward into the flames and turn it onto its end so that he could hold it better. Then, with a second whoosh, George had cried “the Burrow!” and vanished too. “Ron, you next,” said Mr. Weasley. “See you,” said Ron brightly to the Dursleys. He grinned broadly at Harry, then stepped into the fire, shouted “the Burrow!” and disappeared. Now Harry, Jacob and Mr. Weasley alone remained. “Adios, The burrow” Jacob said before jumping in the burrow and disappearing.   

“So, some Weasleys can be hot. Weasel, who are these two?”  

“Eww there my brothers. Bill and Charlie.”  

“well, they’re hot, Weasel.”  

“eww”  

When Jacob arrived in the living room, he first spotted two new Weasley’s he had never met before, and they were very hot. Charlie was built like the twins, shorter and stockier than Percy and Ron, who were both long and lanky. He had a broad, good-natured face, which was weather-beaten and so freckly that he looked almost tanned; his arms were muscular, and one of them had a large, shiny burn on it. Bill was tall, with long hair that he had tied back in a ponytail. He was wearing an earring with what looked like a fang dangling from it. Bill’s clothes would not have looked out of place at a rock concert, except that Jacob recognized his boots to be made, not of leather, but of dragon hide. The only thing to make them hotter would be if they were blonde. Jacob was that distracted by the looks of the new Weasley’s that he didn’t even listen to the commotion of what was happening with Fred, George, Harry, Mrs Weasley and Mr Weasley about Dudley and some sweets.   

“Don’t let Malfoy see you have been eyeing someone else”  

“Maybe I will. Draco is hot when he is jealous”  

“I thought you two were just friends”  

“We are.”  

With that many people staying at the burrow, the rooming situation was a bit haywire. Hermione, Aurora, Ginny and Lisa were sharing a room; Lisa wasn’t going to the Lovegood's until Monday. Percy was in a room to himself because of his import ministry work. Bill and Charlie are in Fred and George’s room. Ron, Harry, Jacob, Fred and George was sharing a room. Like a said, it was a bit haywire.   

“Jacob, I’m afraid we didn’t get gifted enough tickets for you and Lisa to come. That’s why Lisa decided to go to her friends. I’m sorry you won’t be able to see the match”  

“Oh, I’m going to see the match. Draco has invited me to see it with him and stay with him at the match I just need a lift getting there”  

“oh, ok then, umm you can travel with us”  

“Thank you”  

The next morning, Fred, George, Jacob, Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron were all woken up very early by Mrs Weasley. Apparently, it was a long walk to the portkey that would take them to the match. Bill, Charlie and Percy didn’t need to get up early because they were going to apparate to the match. They all had to dress muggle like, Mr Weasley found it hard. After everyone had eaten breakfast, gotten dressed and Mrs Weasley had confiscated any joke/prank items, the children set off with Mr Weasley.  It was chilly and the moon was still out. Only a dull, greenish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer. They trudged down the dark, dank lane toward the village, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Jacob’s hands and feet were freezing. Mr. Weasley kept checking his watch. They didn’t have breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill, stumbling occasionally in hidden rabbit holes, slipping on thick black tuffets of grass. Each breath Jacob took was sharp in his chest and his legs were starting to seize up when, at last, his feet found level ground.   

“Whew,” panted Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater. “Well, we’ve made good time — we’ve got ten minutes. …” Hermione came over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side. “Now we just need the Portkey,” said Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. “It won’t be big. … Come on …” They spread out, searching. They had only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rent the still air. “Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!” Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop. “Amos!” said Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The rest of them followed. Mr. Weasley was shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand. “This is Amos Diggory, everyone,” said Mr. Weasley. “He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?” Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. Jacob smirked at Harry’s stubborn look. “Hi,” said Cedric, looking around at them all. Aurora rushed over and hugged him, he hugged back. “I missed you” Cedric said. “I missed you to” Aurora said.  Everybody said hi back except Fred, Jacob and George, who merely nodded.  

“Long walk, Arthur?”   

“Not too bad, We live just on the other side of the village there. You?”  

“Had to get up at two, didn’t we, Ced? I tell you, I’ll be glad when he’s got his Apparition test. Still … not complaining … Quidditch World Cup, wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. … I know Aurora but are the rest all yours, Arthur?”  

“Oh no, only the redheads expect Jacob here, this is Hermione, friend of Ron’s — Harry, another friend — and Jac-”  

“Merlin’s beard! Harry? Harry Potter?”  

“Er — yeah,” said Harry. Jacob sighed. He didn’t even get an introduction. “Ced’s talked about you, of course, Told us all about playing against you last year. … I said to him, I said — Ced, that’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. … You beat Harry Potter!” said Amos Diggory. “Harry fell off his broom, Dad, I told you … it was an accident. …” Cedric muttered.  “Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you? Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman … but the best man won, I’m sure Harry’d say the same, wouldn’t you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!” roared Amos genially, slapping his son on his back.  “Must be nearly time, Do you know whether we’re waiting for any more, Amos?” said Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again.  “No, the Lovegoods gave their tickets to the Fawcetts who have been there a week already, There aren’t any more of us in this area, are there?” said Mr. Diggory. “Not that I know of,” said Mr. Weasley. “Yes, it’s a minute off. … We’d better get ready. …” He looked around at Harry, Jacob and Hermione. “You just need to touch the Portkey, that’s all, a finger will do —” Jacob rolled his eyes.  With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the 11 of them crowded around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stood there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze swept over the hilltop. Nobody spoke. It suddenly occurred to Jacob how odd this would look if a Muggle were to walk up here now … 11 people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. …  

“Three … two … one …”  

It happened immediately: Jacob felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground; he could feel Ron and Ginny on either side of him, their shoulders banging into his; they were all speeding forward in a howl of wind and swirling colour; his forefinger was stuck to the boot as though it was pulling him magnetically onward and then — His feet slammed into the ground. Only Jacob, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Diggory, and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground.  

“Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,” said a voice.  

They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards, one of whom was holding a large gold watch, the other a thick roll of parchment and a quill. Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho. “Morning, Basil,” said Mr. Weasley, picking up the boot and handing it to the kilted wizard, who threw it into a large box of used Portkeys beside him; Jacob could see an old newspaper, an empty drink can, and a punctured football. “Hello there, Arthur, Not on duty, eh? It’s all right for some. … We’ve been here all night. … You’d better get out of the way, we’ve got a big party coming in from the Black Forest at five fifteen. Hang on, I’ll find your campsite. … Weasley … Weasley … About a quarter of a mile’s walk over there, first field you come to. Site manager’s called Mr. Roberts. Diggory … second field … ask for Mr. Payne.” said Basil wearily.  “Thanks, Basil,” said Mr. Weasley. Jacob said goodbye to them and watched them walked off. “Are you not staying with them, young boy?” Basil asked. Jacob shook his head. “They were just my lift. I’m staying with the Malfoy’s” Jacob replied. Basil sighed and quickly directed him towards the field the Malfoy’s were staying in, so Jacob set off in that direction.   

“You made it, Jacob”  

“I said I would”  

“father’s just gone to collect mother. She didn’t want to arrive until it was time”  

“This Tent is awesome”  

“I know right. Oh, Has the Weasley’s got your school stuff?  Father can take it to Malfoy Manor for you”  

The Malfoy’s tent was more like a golden mansion; it was so huge and bright. Inside had many levels and many ‘rooms’. It was awsome. Jacob even got his own room in the tent. This was awesome. Jacob had never been camping but this couldn’t count as camping. It was glamping to the extreme and Jacob loved it.  A sense of excitement rose like a palpable cloud over the campsite as the afternoon wore on. By dusk, the still summer air itself seemed to be quivering with anticipation, and as darkness spread like a curtain over the thousands of waiting wizards, the last vestiges of pretence disappeared: the Ministry seemed to have bowed to the inevitable and stopped fighting the signs of blatant magic now breaking out everywhere. Salesmen were Apparating every few feet, carrying trays and pushing carts full of extraordinary merchandise. There were luminous rosettes — green for Ireland, red for Bulgaria — which were squealing the names of the players, pointed green hats bedecked with dancing shamrocks, Bulgarian scarves adorned with lions that really roared, flags from both countries that played their national anthems as they were waved; there were tiny models of Firebolts that really flew, and collectible figures of famous players, which strolled across the palm of your hand, preening themselves. Draco and Jacob both bought a pair of Omnioculars and a ton of other stuff, their money bags considerably lighter, they went back to the tents. And then a deep, booming gong sounded somewhere beyond the woods, and at once, green and red lanterns blazed into life in the trees, lighting a path to the field.   

“Game time!”  

“Yeah, Let’s go get our seats”  

Clutching their purchases, Lucius in the lead, they all hurried into the wood, following the lantern lit trail. They could hear the sounds of thousands of people moving around them, shouts and laughter, snatches of singing. The atmosphere of feverish excitement was highly infectious. They walked through the wood for twenty minutes, until at last they emerged on the other side and found themselves in the shadow of a gigantic stadium. Though Jacob could see only a fraction of the immense gold walls surrounding the field, he could tell that ten cathedrals would fit comfortably inside it. “We are in the top box with the Minster of magic” Lucius informed the children and the ministry lady who was checking their tickets at the entrance. The stairs into the stadium were carpeted in rich purple. They clambered upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filtered away through doors into the stands to their left and right.  A hundred thousand witches and wizards were taking their places in the seats, which rose in levels around the long oval field. Everything was suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seemed to come from the stadium itself. The field looked smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stood three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, almost at Harry’s eye level, was a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing kept dashing across it as though an invisible giant’s hand were scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again. The party kept climbing, and at last they reached the top of the staircase and found themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts.  About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stood in two rows here. But there was one problem......   

“... ah, and here’s Lucius!”  

The Weasleys, Harry, Aurora, Hermione, a terrified house elf under the name of Winkey, the minister of magic and the Bulgarian Minister were already here and getting seated. This was going to be a long game, especially since Draco and Harry were already glaring at each other.  Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and Jacob had to sit on the four empty seats behind the minister. “Ah, Fudge, how are you? I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? Or our son, Draco? But I’m sure you’ve met Draco’s friend, Jacob?” said Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reached the Minister of Magic. “How do you do, how do you do?” said Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. “And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can’t understand a word I’m saying anyway, so never mind. And let’s see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?” It was a tense moment. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy looked at each other. “Good lord, Arthur,” Lucius said softly. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?” Fudge, who wasn’t listening, said, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.” Jacob smiled watching the scene play out.  “How — how nice,” said Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile. Mr. Malfoy’s eyes had returned to Hermione, who went slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy didn’t dare say anything. He nodded sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continued down the line to his seats. Draco shot Harry, Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, then settled himself between his mother and Jacob. Jacob smirked at his brother than sat down.  Next moment, Ludo Bagman charged into the box. “Everyone ready? Minister — ready to go?” he said, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam.  “Ready when you are, Ludo,” said Fudge comfortably. Ludo whipped out his wand, directed it at his own throat, and said “Sonorus!” and then spoke over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoed over them, booming into every corner of the stands.  

“Ladies and gentlemen … Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”  

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans — A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.  

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce … the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”  

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval. “I wonder what they’ve brought,” said Mr. Weasley, leaning forward in his seat. “Aaah!” He suddenly whipped off his glasses and polished them hurriedly on his robes. “Veela!” But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field. Veela were women that could control those who are attracted to woman through their looks. The veela had started to dance and Jacob had to laugh as he watched the different people trying to get to the Veela, including Harry, Ron or Ginny. And as the veela danced faster and faster, the people got worse. The music suddenly stopped.  Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn’t want the veela to go.   

“And now, kindly put your wands in the air … for the Irish National Team Mascots!”  

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-andgold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow arced suddenly across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded, and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it, Shamrock soared over them, and heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off their heads and seats. Squinting up at the shamrock, Jacob realized that it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green. “Leprechauns!” said Mr. Weasley over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold. The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.  

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome — the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you — Dimitrov!”  

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.  

“Ivanova!”  

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.  

“Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand — Krum!”  

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.  

“And now, please greet — the Irish National Quidditch Team!” yelled Bagman. “Presenting — Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand — Lynch!”  

Seven green blurs swept onto the field. Jacob smiled.   

“And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!”  

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a mustache to rival Uncle Vernon’s, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the mustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other. Jacob watched closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open — four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch. With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.  

“Theeeeeeeey’re OFF! And it’s Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!”  

It was Quidditch as Jacob had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his face that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible — the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names. Jacob spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums. Hawkshead Attacking Formation, he read as he watched the three Irish Chasers zoom closely together, Troy in the center, slightly ahead of Mullet and Moran, bearing down upon the Bulgarians. Porskoff Ploy flashed up next, as Troy made as though to dart upward with the Quaffle, drawing away the Bulgarian Chaser Ivanova and dropping the Quaffle to Moran. One of the Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov, swung hard at a passing Bludger with his small club, knocking it into Moran’s path; Moran ducked to avoid the Bludger and dropped the Quaffle; and Levski, soaring beneath, caught it —  

“TROY SCORES! Ten zero to Ireland!”  

Mad that he was missing thing, Jacob spun his speed dial back to normal as play resumed. Jacob knew enough about Quidditch to see that the Irish Chasers were superb. They worked as a seamless team, their movements so well coordinated that they appeared to be reading one another’s minds as they positioned themselves and within ten minutes, Ireland had scored twice more, bringing their lead to thirty-zero and causing a thunderous tide of roars and applause from the green-clad supporters. The match became still faster, but more brutal. Volkov and Vulchanov, the Bulgarian Beaters, were whacking the Bludgers as fiercely as possible at the Irish Chasers, and were starting to prevent them from using some of their best moves; twice they were forced to scatter, and then, finally, Ivanova managed to break through their ranks; dodge the Keeper, Ryan; and score Bulgaria’s first goal. “Fingers in your ears!” bellowed Mr. Weasley as the Veela started to dance in celebration. Jacob didn’t need to; he wasn’t attracted to them. After a few seconds, the veela stopped dancing, and Bulgaria was again in possession of the Quaffle.  

“Dimitrov! Levski! Dimitrov! Ivanova — oh I say!”   

One hundred thousand wizards gasped as the two Seekers, Krum and Lynch, plummeted through the centre of the Chasers, so fast that it looked as though they had just jumped from airplanes without parachutes. Jacob followed their descent through his Omnioculars, squinting to see where the Snitch was —— at the very last second, Viktor Krum pulled out of the dive and spiraled off. Lynch, however, hit the ground with a dull thud that could be heard throughout the stadium. A huge groan rose from the Irish seats.  

“It’s time-out! As trained mediwizards hurry onto the field to examine Aidan Lynch!”  

 Krum was now circling high above Lynch, who was being revived by mediwizards with cups of potion. Lynch got to his feet at last, to loud cheers from the green-clad supporters, mounted his Firebolt, and kicked back off into the air. His revival seemed to give Ireland new heart. When Mostafa blew his whistle again, the Chasers moved into action with a skill unrivaled by anything Harry had seen so far. After fifteen more fast and furious minutes, Ireland had pulled ahead by ten more goals. They were now leading by one hundred and thirty points to ten, and the game was starting to get dirtier. As Mullet shot toward the goal posts yet again, clutching the Quaffle tightly under her arm, the Bulgarian Keeper, Zograf, flew out to meet her. Whatever happened was over so quickly Jacob didn’t catch it, but a scream of rage from the Irish crowd, and Mostafa’s long, shrill whistle blast, told him it had been a foul.  

“And Mostafa takes the Bulgarian Keeper to task for cobbing — excessive use of elbows! And — yes, it’s a penalty to Ireland!”  

The leprechauns, who had risen angrily into the air like a swarm of glittering hornets when Mullet had been fouled, now darted together to form the words “HA, HA, HA!” The veela on the other side of the field leapt to their feet, tossed their hair angrily, and started to dance again. Jacob shook his head at the people covering their ears and looked at the Referee. Hassan Mostafa had landed right in front of the dancing veela, and was acting very oddly indeed. He was flexing his muscles and smoothing his mustache excitedly.  

“Now, we can’t have that! Somebody slap the referee!”  

A mediwizard came tearing across the field, his fingers stuffed into his own ears and kicked Mostafa hard in the shins. Mostafa seemed to come to himself; Jacob, between laughs, saw that he looked exceptionally embarrassed and had started shouting at the veela, who had stopped dancing and were looking mutinous.  

“And unless I’m much mistaken, Mostafa is actually attempting to send off the Bulgarian team mascots! Now there’s something we haven’t seen before. … Oh this could turn nasty. …”  

It did: The Bulgarian Beaters, Volkov and Vulchanov, landed on either side of Mostafa and began arguing furiously with him, gesticulating toward the leprechauns, who had now gleefully formed the words “HEE, HEE, HEE.” Mostafa was not impressed by the Bulgarians’ arguments, however; he was jabbing his finger into the air, clearly telling them to get flying again, and when they refused, he gave two short blasts on his whistle.  

“Two penalties for Ireland! And Volkov and Vulchanov had better get back on those brooms … yes … there they go … and Troy takes the Quaffle …”  

Play now reached a level of ferocity beyond anything they had yet seen. The Beaters on both sides were acting without mercy: Volkov and Vulchanov in particular seemed not to care whether their clubs made contact with Bludger or human as they swung them violently through the air. Dimitrov shot straight at Moran, who had the Quaffle, nearly knocking her off her broom. “Foul!” roared the Irish supporters as one, all standing up in a great wave of green.  

“Foul! Dimitrov skins Moran — deliberately flying to collide there — and it’s got to be another penalty — yes, there’s the whistle!”  

The leprechauns had risen into the air again, and this time, they formed a giant hand, which was making a very rude sign indeed at the veela across the field. At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn’t look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders — Ministry wizards were flooding onto the field to separate the veela and the leprechauns, but with little success; meanwhile, the pitched battle below was nothing to the one taking place above. Jacob turned this way and that, staring through his Omnioculars, as the Quaffle changed hands with the speed of a bullet.  

“Levski — Dimitrov — Moran — Troy — Mullet — Ivanova — Moran again — Moran — MORAN SCORES!”  

But the cheers of the Irish supporters were barely heard over the shrieks of the veela, the blasts now issuing from the Ministry members’ wands, and the furious roars of the Bulgarians. The game recommenced immediately; now Levski had the Quaffle, now Dimitrov — The Irish Beater Quigley swung heavily at a passing Bludger, and hit it as hard as possible toward Krum, who did not duck quickly enough. It hit him full in the face. There was a deafening groan from the crowd; Krum’s nose looked broken, there was blood everywhere, but Hassan Mostafa didn’t blow his whistle. He had become distracted, one of the veela had thrown a handful of fire and set his broom tail alight.  

“Time-out! Ah, come on, he can’t play like that, look at him —”  

The Irish Seeker had suddenly gone into a dive, and Jacob was quite sure that this was no Wronski Feint; this was the real thing. … “He’s seen the Snitch!” Harry shouted. “He’s seen it! Look at him go!” Half the crowd seemed to have realized what was happening; the Irish supporters rose in another great wave of green, screaming their Seeker on … but Krum was on his tail. There were flecks of blood flying through the air behind him, but he was drawing level with Lynch now as the pair of them hurtled toward the ground again — Lynch hit the ground with tremendous force and was immediately stampeded by a horde of angry veela. Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand. The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn’t seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a great jumbo jet were revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.  

“IRELAND WINS! KRUM GETS THE SNITCH — BUT IRELAND WINS — good lord, I don’t think any of us were expecting that!”  

It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but Jacob could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots. Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn. “Vell, ve fought bravely,” said a gloomy voice near Jacob. He looked around; it was the Bulgarian Minister of Magic. “You can speak English! And you’ve been letting me mime everything all day!” said Fudge, sounding outraged.  “Vell, it vos very funny,” said the Bulgarian minister, shrugging.   

“And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!”  

Jacob’s eyes were suddenly dazzled by a blinding white light, as the Top Box was magically illuminated so that everyone in the stands could see the inside. Squinting toward the entrance, he saw two panting wizards carrying a vast golden cup into the box, which they handed to Cornelius Fudge, who was still looking very disgruntled that he’d been using sign language all day for nothing.   

“Let’s have a really loud hand for the gallant losers — Bulgaria!”   

And up the stairs into the box came the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively; thousands and thousands of Omniocular lenses flashed and winked in their direction. One by one, the Bulgarians filed between the rows of seats in the box, and Bagman called out the name of each as they shook hands with their own minister and then with Fudge. Krum, who was last in line, looked a real mess. Two black eyes were blooming spectacularly on his bloody face. He was still holding the Snitch. Jacob noticed that he seemed much less coordinated on the ground. He was slightly duckfooted and distinctly round-shouldered. But when Krum’s name was announced, the whole stadium gave him a resounding, ear-splitting roar. And then came the Irish team. Aidan Lynch was being supported by Moran and Connolly; the second crash seemed to have dazed him and his eyes looked strangely unfocused. But he grinned happily as Troy and Quigley lifted the Cup into the air and the crowd below thundered its approval. At last, when the Irish team had left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms (Aidan Lynch on the back of Connolly’s, clutching hard around his waist and still grinning in a bemused sort of way), Bagman pointed his wand at his throat and muttered, “Quietus.”  

With that Jacob and the Malfoy’s headed back to the Malfoy tent where they had their own idea of a party. Lucius and Narcissa hosted a bunch of important adults when Draco and Jacob were left to do whatever they wanted upstairs. So, the two caught up on their summers and there plans for the year. They talked about Jacob joining the slytherin quidditch team. They flirted with each other...... a lot. Then when to bed when they got tired. But they weren’t asleep wrong because early the next morning, the two woke up to Draco’s parent’s missing and a lot of screams outside. Draco smirked and told Jacob to get dressed when he asked what was happening. They both quickly dressed and went outside.  

By the light of the few fires that were still burning, they could see people running away into the woods, fleeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. A crowd of wizards, tightly packed and moving together with wands pointing straight upward, was marching slowly across the field.  They didn’t seem to have faces. … Then he realized that their heads were hooded and their faces masked. High above them, floating along in midair, four struggling figures were being contorted into grotesque shapes. It was as though the masked wizards on the ground were puppeteers, and the people above them were marionettes operated by invisible strings that rose from the wands into the air. Two of the figures were very small. More wizards were joining the marching group, laughing and pointing up at the floating bodies. Tents crumpled and fell as the marching crowd swelled. Once or twice Jacob saw one of the marchers blast a tent out of his way with his wand. Several caught fire. The screaming grew louder. The floating people were suddenly illuminated as they passed over a burning tent and Jacob recognized one of them: Mr. Roberts, the campsite manager. The other three looked as though they might be his wife and children. One of the marchers below flipped Mrs. Roberts upside down with his wand; her nightdress fell down to reveal voluminous drawers and she struggled to cover herself up as the crowd below her screeched and hooted with glee.  

“What is happening?”  

“you’ll find out, but we need to go into the forest. Father doesn’t want us here for this”  

Jacob nods and the two rushed into the forest. They stayed to the darkness, that was until they heard an ouch and a light appeared. Ron, Harry, Aurora and Hermione were there, Ron was on the floor, having tripped over a root.  “Well, with feet that size, hard not to,” Draco said as leaned back onto the tree behind him and crossed his arms. Jacob rolled his. “Oh fuck off Malfoy” Ron said as he got up. “Mrs Weasley wouldn’t aprove of that, Weasel.” Jacob said, smirking.  “Language, Weasley,” said Draco, his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?” He nodded at Hermione, and at the same moment, a blast like a bomb sounded from the campsite, and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around them. “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Hermione defiantly. “Granger, they’re after Muggles, D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around … they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.” said Malfoy.  “Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarled. “Have it your own way, Potter, If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.” said Draco, grinning maliciously. Jacob rolled his eyes and tried to hide the smile from his face. He loved watching Draco be dramatic. “You watch your mouth!” shouted Ron. “Never mind, Ron,” said Hermione quickly, seizing Ron’s arm to restrain him as he took a step toward Draco. There came a bang from the other side of the trees that was louder than anything they had heard. Several people nearby screamed. Draco chuckled softly. “Scare easily, don’t they? I suppose your daddy told you all to hide? What’s he up to — trying to rescue the Muggles?” he said lazily. “Where’re your parents?” said Harry, his temper rising. “Out there, wearing masks, are they?” Draco turned his face to Harry, still smiling. “Well … if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?” Draco replied. “Oh, come on, let’s go and find the others.” said Hermione, with a disgusted look. “Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” sneered Draco. “Come on,” Hermione repeated, and she pulled Harry, Aurora and Ron up the path again. “He was just trying to help you!” Jacob called after them but sighed when they ignored him.   

“Your parents aren’t in those hoods, are they dray?”  

“Father is but Father’s only attacking the muggles that hurt children. Mother’s waiting for us at the other end of the forest. We need to get going”  

Jacob nodded and the two ran to the edge of the office, far from the camp sight. There they found Narcissa Malfoy, who checked them over for injuries before aparating them to Malfoy manor. “You can stay here for the rest of the summer; I’ll send an owl to collect your things from the Weasley’s Jacob. Lucius won’t be back for a while, so why don’t you two catch up on some sleep and then we can have breakfast” Narcissa told them and so that’s what happened. Jacob ended up spending the rest of the summer at the Malfoy’s and appositely loved it. He wished he could live with them instead of the Dursley’s. Narcissa even took Draco and Jacob dress robe shopping because apparently, they need dress robes this year.   

Finally, the 1st September arrived, and the two boys were off back to Hogwarts. Lucius dropped them at the Platform on his way into the Ministry, so they were able to get on the train before Harry stopped Jacob and dragged him to sit with them. The boys went to the back of the train and sat with the rest of the Slytherins before the Weasley’s and gang had even arrived. On the ride, the slytherin gang talked about everything anything. They talked about the summer. They talked about the quidditch world cup. They talked about Jacob joining the quidditch team. They talked about their guesses of what’s going to happen at Hogwarts this year. They talked about how Draco was nearly sent to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts.   

“… Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man’s such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn’t admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn’t like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defence rubbish we do. …”  

“But Dray, if you went to Durmstrang, we would have never met. Oh, how horrid that would be to not have your eyes in my life”  

“I would find you and drag you to Durmstrang, Jay”  

The rain became heavier and heavier as the train moved farther north. The sky was so dark and the windows so steamy that the lanterns were lit by midday. The lunch trolley came rattling along the corridor, and Jacob bought a Cauldron Cake. Though the longer the train ride went, Jacob could tell Draco was getting bored so they went for a walk and that’s when they found Harry’s compartment as Ron was showing off his prizes.   

“We saw him right up close, as well, We were in the Top Box —” said Ron.  “For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.” Draco said to announce their appearance.  “Don’t remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” said Harry coolly. “Weasley … what is that?” said Draco, pointing at Pigwidgeon’s cage. A sleeve of Ron’s dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Jacob tired not to laugh upon seeing it. Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Draco was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled. “Look at this! Weasley, you weren’t thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean — they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. …” said Draco in ecstasy, holding up Ron’s robes and showing Jacob.  “Eat dung, Malfoy!” said Ron, the same colour as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Draco’s grip. Jacob and Draco howled with derisive laughter.  “So … going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There’s money involved as well, you know … you’d be able to afford some decent robes if you won. …” Draco asked.  “What are you talking about?” snapped Ron. “Are you going to enter? I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?” Malfoy repeated. “Either explain what you’re on about or go away, Malfoy,” said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. A gleeful smile spread across Draco’s pale face. “Don’t tell me you don’t know?” he said delightedly. “You’ve got a father and brother at the Ministry, and you don’t even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago … heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry. … Maybe your father’s too junior to know about it, Weasley … yes … they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him. …” Laughing once more, Jacob and Draco walked off.  

“So, what is happening?”  

“Some sort of tournament between the three schools. If you win, you earn a lot of money”  

Finally, the train arrived at Hogsmeade. As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads. Everyone (but the 1st years) quickly rushed towards the carriages, wanting to get to the carriages as quick as possible. Draco, Jacob, Pansy, Theo, Blase, Crabbe and Goyle climbed gratefully into one of them, the door shut with a snap, and a few moments later, with a great lurch, the long procession of carriages was rumbling and splashing its way up the track toward Hogwarts Castle. Through the gates, flanked with statues of winged boars, and up the sweeping drive the carriages trundled, swaying dangerously in what was fast becoming a gale. Leaning against the window, Jacob could see Hogwarts coming nearer, its many lighted windows blurred and shimmering behind the thick curtain of rain. Lightning flashed across the sky as their carriage came to a halt before the great oak front doors, which stood at the top of a flight of stone steps. People who had occupied the carriages in front were already hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Draco, Jacob, Pansy, Theo, Blase, Crabbe and Goyle jumped down from their carriage and dashed up the steps too, looking up only when they were safely inside the cavernous, torch-lit entrance hall, with its magnificent marble staircase. The group slipped and slid across the entrance hall and through the double doors on the right.   

The Great Hall looked its usual splendid self, decorated for the start-of-term feast. Golden plates and goblets gleamed by the light of hundreds and hundreds of candles, floating over the tables in midair. The four long House tables were packed with chattering students; at the top of the Hall, the staff sat along one side of a fifth table, facing their pupils. It was much warmer in here. The slytherin gang quickly went and sat down at the slytherin table. Jacob looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor, but there was another empty chair too.  Tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was sitting on a large pile of cushions beside Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, whose hat was askew over her flyaway gray hair. She was talking to Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. On Professor Sinistra’s other side was the sallow-faced, hooknosed, greasy-haired Potions master, Snape. On Snape’s other side was an empty seat, which was Professor McGonagall’s. Next to it, and in the very centre of the table, sat Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, his sweeping silver hair and beard shining in the candlelight, his magnificent deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of Dumbledore’s long, thin fingers were together, and he was resting his chin upon them, staring up at the ceiling through his half-moon spectacles as though lost in thought.   

The doors of the Great Hall opened and silence fell. Professor McGonagall was leading a long line of first years up to the top of the Hall. The first years appeared to have swum across the lake rather than sailed. All of them were shivering with a combination of cold and nerves as they filed along the staff table and came to a halt in a line facing the rest of the school — all of them except the smallest of the lot, a boy with mousy hair, who was wrapped in Hagrid’s moleskin overcoat. The coat was so big for him that it looked as though he were draped in a furry black circus tent. His small face protruded from over the collar, looking almost painfully excited. Professor McGonagall now placed a three-legged stool on the ground before the first years and, on top of it, an extremely old, dirty, patched wizard’s hat. The first years stared at it. So did everyone else. For a moment, there was silence. Then a long tear near the brim opened wide like a mouth, and the hat broke into song:  

A thousand years or more ago,  

When I was newly sewn,  

There lived four wizards of renown,  

Whose names are still well known:  

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  

They hatched a daring plan  

To educate young sorcerers  

Thus Hogwarts School began.  

Now each of these four founders  

Formed their own house, for each  

Did value different virtues  

In the ones they had to teach.  

By Gryffindor, the bravest were  

Prized far beyond the rest;  

For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  

Would always be the best;  

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  

Most worthy of admission;  

And power-hungry Slytherin  

Loved those of great ambition.  

While still alive they did divide  

Their favorites from the throng,  

Yet how to pick the worthy ones  

When they were dead and gone?  

‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  

He whipped me off his head  

The founders put some brains in me  

So I could choose instead!  

Now slip me snug about your ears,  

I’ve never yet been wrong,  

I’ll have a look inside your mind  

And tell where you belong!  

The Great Hall rang with applause as the Sorting Hat finished. Professor McGonagall was now unrolling a large scroll of parchment. “When I call out your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool,” she told the first years. “When the hat announces your House, you will go and sit at the appropriate table.  

“Ackerley, Stewart!”  

“RAVENCLAW!”   

“Baddock, Malcolm!”  

“SLYTHERIN!”  

“Branstone, Eleanor!”  

“HUFFLEPUFF!”  

“Cauldwell, Owen!”  

“HUFFLEPUFF!”  

“Creevey, Dennis!”  

“GRYFFINDOR!”  

The Sorting continued; boys and girls with varying degrees of fright on their faces moving one by one to the three-legged stool, the line dwindling slowly as Professor McGonagall passed the L’s.  

 “Madley, Laura!”   

“Hufflepuff”.  

 “McDonald, Natalie!”   

“Gryffindor”  

“Pritchard, Graham!”  

“SLYTHERIN!”  

“Quirke, Orla!”  

“RAVENCLAW!”  

And finally, with “Whitby, Kevin!” (“HUFFLEPUFF!”), the Sorting ended. Professor McGonagall picked up the hat and the stool and carried them away. Professor Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was smiling around at the students, his arms opened wide in welcome.  

“I have only two words to say to you, Tuck in.”  

Everyone quickly started eating.  The rain was still drumming heavily against the high, dark glass. Another clap of thunder shook the windows, and the stormy ceiling flashed, illuminating the golden plates as the remains of the first course vanished and were replaced, instantly, with puddings. When the puddings too had been demolished, and the last crumbs had faded off the plates, leaving them sparkling clean, Albus Dumbledore got to his feet again. The buzz of chatter filling the Hall ceased almost at once, so that only the howling wind and pounding rain could be heard.  

“So! Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirtyseven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it. As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year. This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts —”  

But at that moment, there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open. A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black traveling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swiveled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers’ table. A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling.  The lightning had thrown the man’s face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man’s eyes that made him frightening. One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye — and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man’s head, so that all they could see was whiteness. The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Jacob couldn’t hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side. The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.  

“May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher? Professor Moody.”  

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody’s bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him. Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-thanwarm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his traveling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Jacob saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot. Dumbledore cleared his throat.  

“As I was saying, we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”  

“You’re JOKING!”   

“I am not joking, Mr. Weasley, though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar … Er — but maybe this is not the time … no … where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament … well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities — until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued. There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger. The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money. Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age — that is to say, seventeen years or older — will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!”  

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the entrance hall. Draco and Jacob got up and went back to their dorm room, talking about the tournament the whole way there.   

“Double divination! This is going to be horrible”  

“You're still taking that class?”  

“Your still taking C.O.M.C”  

“Touche”  

The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy; heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead. At least, Jacob and Draco got a huge pale of sweets delivered by the Malfoy Egal from Narcissa. In the morning, the Slytherin's had an hour of history of magic (Jacob complained the whole way through about how a Ghost isn’t a good teacher) and then they had their electives. Draco had C.O.M.C and Jacob had ancient runes. Then they were reunited for lunch.  When the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons, Jacob set off for North Tower where, at the top of a tightly spiraling staircase, a silver stepladder led to a circular trapdoor in the ceiling, and the room where Professor Trelawney lived. The familiar sweet perfume spreading from the fire met their nostrils as they emerged at the top of the stepladder. As ever, the curtains were all closed; the circular room was bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which were all draped with scarves and shawls. Once again, Jacob was forced to sit with Harry, Aurora and Ron because that’s where he sat last year.  “Hey Harry, you get to sit next to her. Oh, excited you must be” Jacob whispered into Harry’s ear and earned an elbow to the chest in return.   

“Good day,”   

A very thin woman with enormous glasses that made her eyes appear far too large for her face, Professor Trelawney was peering down at Harry and Jacob with the tragic expression she always wore whenever she saw them. The usual large number of beads, chains, and bangles glittered upon her person in the firelight.  

“You are preoccupied, my dears, My inner eye sees past your brave face to the troubled soul within. And I regret to say that your worries are not baseless. I see difficult times ahead for you, alas … most difficult … I fear the thing you dread will indeed come to pass … and perhaps sooner than you think. …”  

Jacob rolled his eyes. Professor Trelawney swept past them and seated herself in a large winged armchair before the fire, facing the class. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who deeply admired Professor Trelawney, were sitting on poufs very close to her.  

“My dears, it is time for us to consider the stars, The movements of the planets and the mysterious portents they reveal only to those who understand the steps of the celestial dance. Human destiny may be deciphered by the planetary rays, which intermingle …”  

Jacob didn’t bother listening propaly. He only continued the lesson so it wouldn’t look bad on his report. He could lie his way through the class like he did last year anyway.  “Harry!” Ron muttered. “What?” Harry said. Jacob sighed.   

“I was saying, my dear, that you were clearly born under the baleful influence of Saturn,”  

“Born under — what, sorry?”  

“Saturn, dear, the planet Saturn! I was saying that Saturn was surely in a position of power in the heavens at the moment of your birth. … Your dark hair … your mean stature … tragic losses so young in life … I think I am right in saying, my dear, that you were born in midwinter?”  

“No, I was born in July like Jacob.”  

Jacob burst out laughing at that. Half an hour later, each of them had been given a complicated circular chart, and was attempting to fill in the position of the planets at their moment of birth. It was dull work, requiring much consultation of timetables and calculation of angles.  

“I’ve got two Neptunes here,” said Harry after a while, frowning down at his piece of parchment, “that can’t be right, can it?” Jacob shrugged. He was just letting the Gryffindor's do the work.  “Aaaaah,” said Ron, imitating Professor Trelawney’s mystical whisper, “when two Neptunes appear in the sky, it is a sure sign that a midget in glasses is being born, Harry …” Seamus and Dean, who were working nearby, sniggered loudly, though not loudly enough to mask the excited squeals from Lavender Brown — “Oh Professor, look! I think I’ve got an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one’s that, Professor?”  

“It is Uranus, my dear,”   

“Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?” said Ron. Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class.   

“A detailed analysis of the way the planetary movements in the coming month will affect you, with reference to your personal chart, I want it ready to hand in next Monday, and no excuses!”  

After class, Jacob found Draco sat in a tree, reading a newspaper, so he climbed up to sit next to him.  “That’ll take all weekend, that will. …” Jacob complained.  “Professor Vector didn’t give us any at all!” Draco bragged and Jacob rolled his eyes. That’s when they spotted Harry and gang, joining the que to go get dinner. They smirked, jumped out of the tree and walked over with Crabbe and Goyle.  “Weasley! Hey, Weasley!” Draco called out.  Harry, Ron, Aurora and Hermione turned. “What?” said Ron shortly. “Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” said Draco, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed entrance hall could hear. “Listen to this!  

FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC  

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic’s troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.  

Imagine them not even getting his name right, Weasley. It’s almost as though he’s a complete nonentity, isn’t it?” he crowed. Everyone in the entrance hall was listening now. Draco straightened the paper with a flourish and read on:  

Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers (“policemen”) over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of “Mad-Eye” Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder.  

Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody’s heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.  

“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” said Draco, flipping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house — if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?” Ron was shaking with fury. Everyone was staring at him. “Get stuffed, Malfoy, C’mon, Ron. …” said Harry. “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter? At least I was able to save Jacob from you before you ruined him. So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture? sneered Draco. Jacob sniggered.  “You know your mother, Malfoy? that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that or was it just because you were with her?” said Harry. Draco’s pale face went slightly pink.  

“Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.”  

“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,”   

BANG!  

Several people screamed as Harry was hit with a spell. Harry plunged his hand into his robes for his wand, but before he’d even touched it,there was another BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.  

“OH NO YOU DON’T, LADDIE!”  

Harry spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out, and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing. “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Jacob shouted, filled with worry “TEACHERS SHOULD HARM THE STUDENTS! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?” There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall, other than Jacob’s shouts. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. “Shut up or you’ll be a ferret to” Moody threatened Jacob before turning to look at Harry — at least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head. “Did he get you?” Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly. “No, missed.” said Harry. Jacob glared at Moody then when to pick the white ferret up. “LEAVE IT!” Moody shouted. “Leave — what?” Harry said, bewildered. “Not you — him!” Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Jacob, who had just frozen. It seemed that Moody’s rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.  

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, Jacob and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons. “I don’t think so!” roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more. “I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s back’s turned,” growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do. …” The ferret flew through the air, down Jacob’s shirt and out of his trouser leg, its legs and tail flailing helplessly. Jacob went to shout at Moody again but he spoke first. “Never — do — that — again —” said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.  

“Professor Moody!”   

Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books. “Hello, Professor McGonagall,” said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher. Jacob was seething with anger.  “What — what are you doing?” said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret’s progress through the air.  

“Teaching,”   

“Teach — Moody, is that a student?”   

“Yep,”  

“No!” cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing. “Are you ok, dray? Do we need to go to the hospital wing?”Jacob asked, rushing over to Draco. Draco nods, shakingly and Jacob helped him up.   

“Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?”  

“He might’ve mentioned it, yeah, but I thought a good sharp shock —”  

“We give detentions, Moody! Or speak to the offender’s Head of House!”  

“I’ll do that, then,” said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike. “My father is going to hear about this and fire that lunatic” Draco whispered.  “Oh yeah?” said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. “Well, I know your father of old, boy. … You tell him Moody’s keeping a close eye on his son … you tell him that from me. … Now, your Head of House’ll be Snape, will it?” Jacob glared at him.  “Yes,” said Jacob resentfully. “Another old friend,” growled Moody. “I’ve been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. … Come on, you. …” And he seized Jacob’s upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons. Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.  

“HE DIDN’T GET FIRED?”  

“No and we still have class with him on Thursday!”  

“THIS ISN’T RIGHT. WHY ISN’T THE MINISTRY TAKING OUR SAFTY SERIOUSLY! ISN’T THERE SOME KIND OF MINSITRTY OF CHILD WELFARE?”  

“Umm Yeah there is but ..... they don’t do anything! They just get that job to be lazy”  

“WHAT!”  

The next two days passed without great incident, unless you counted Neville melting his sixth cauldron in Potions. Professor Snape, who seemed to have attained new levels of vindictiveness over the summer, gave Neville detention, and Neville returned from it in a state of nervous collapse, having been made to disembowel a barrel full of horned toads. But then Thursday arrived. Everyone but Draco and Jacob were so excited for the lesson that they arrived early on Thursday lunchtime and queued up outside his classroom before the bell had even rung. The only person missing was Hermione, who turned up just in time for the lesson. Jacob and Draco took two chairs as far away from Moody as possible, Jacob didn’t want to be blamed for what would happen if he was right next to moody.  Soon they heard Moody’s distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he entered the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They could just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.  

“You can put those away, those books. You won’t need them.”  

They returned the books to their bags. Moody took out a register, shook his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and began to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swiveled around, fixing upon each student as he or she answered.  

“Right then, I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures — you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?”   

There was a general murmur of assent.  

“But you’re behind — very behind — on dealing with curses, So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark —”   

“What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurted out. Moody’s magical eye spun around to stare at Ron; Ron looked extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiled. The effect was to make his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it was nevertheless good to know that he ever did anything as friendly as smile. Ron looked deeply relieved.  

“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh? Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. … Yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favour to Dumbledore. … One year, and then back to my quiet retirement. So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you counter curses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. You’re not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s about to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I’m talking.”  

Lavender jumped and blushed. She had been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently, Moody’s magical eye could see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.  

“So … do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”  

Several hands rose tentatively into the air, including Ron’s and Hermione’s. Moody pointed at Ron, though his magical eye was still fixed on Lavender. “Er, my dad told me about one. … Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?” said Ron tentatively,   

“Ah, yes, Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”  

Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. Moody reached into the jar, caught one of the spiders, and held it in the palm of his hand so that they could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, “Imperio!” The spider leapt from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretched out its legs rigidly, then did a back flip, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it began to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose onto two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone was laughing — everyone except Moody.  

“Think it’s funny, do you? You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?”  

The laughter died away almost instantly.  

“Total control, I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats …Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse, Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!”   

Everyone jumped.Moody picked up the somersaulting spider and threw it back into the jar.  

“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”  

Hermione’s hand flew into the air again and so did Neville’s. The only class in which Neville usually volunteered information was Herbology, which was easily his best subject. Neville looked surprised at his own daring.  

“Yes?”   

“There’s one — the Cruciatus Curse,” said Neville in a small but distinct voice. Moody was looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes. “Your name’s Longbottom?” he said, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again. Neville nodded nervously, but Moody made no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reached into the jar for the next spider and placed it upon the desktop, where it remained motionless, apparently too scared to move. “The Cruciatus Curse, Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” he said, pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!” The spider swelled. It was now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushed his chair backward, as far away from Moody’s desk as possible. Moody raised his wand again, pointed it at the spider, and muttered, “Crucio!” At once, the spider’s legs bent in upon its body; it rolled over and began to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound came from it, but Jacob was sure that if it could have given voice, it would have been screaming. Moody did not remove his wand, and the spider started to shudder and jerk more violently — “That’s horrible! Your hurting it!” Aurora shouted at the same time Hermione shouted “Stop it!” Hermione was looking, not at the spider, but at Neville who’s hands were clenched upon the desk in front of him, his knuckles white, his eyes wide and horrified. Moody raised his wand. The spider’s legs relaxed, but it continued to twitch. “Reducio,” Moody muttered, and the spider shrank back to its proper size. He put it back into the jar.  

“Pain, You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. … That one was very popular once too. Right … anyone know any others?”  

Jacob looked around. From the looks on everyone’s faces, he guessed they were all wondering what was going to happen to the last spider. Hermione’s hand shook slightly as, for the third time, she raised it into the air. “Yes?” said Moody, looking at her. “Avada Kedavra,” Hermione whispered. Several people looked uneasily around at her, including Ron.  

“Ah, Yes, the last and worst. Avada Kedavra … the Killing Curse.”  

He put his hand into the glass jar, and almost as though it knew what was coming, the third spider scuttled frantically around the bottom of the jar, trying to evade Moody’s fingers, but he trapped it, and placed it upon the desktop. It started to scuttle frantically across the wooden surface. Moody raised his wand, and Harry felt a sudden thrill of foreboding. “Avada Kedavra!” Moody roared. There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though a vast, invisible something was soaring through the air — instantaneously the spider rolled over onto its back, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. Several of the students stifled cries; Aurora included. Moody swept the dead spider off the desk onto the floor.  

“Not nice, Not pleasant. And there’s no counter curse. There’s no blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”  

Jacob rolled his eyes and mummbed “I was there to but noo only Harry get’s reconigsed” but only Draco heard him.  Moody was speaking again.   

“Avada Kedavra’s a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it — you could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I’d get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn’t matter. I’m not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there’s no counter curse, why am I showing you? Because you’ve got to know. You’ve got to appreciate what the worst is. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation where you’re facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE! Now … those three curses — Avada Kedavra, Imperius, and Cruciatus — are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That’s what you’re up against. That’s what I’ve got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice constant, never-ceasing vigilance. Get out your quills … copy this down. …”  

They spent the rest of the lesson taking notes on each of the Unforgivable Curses. No one spoke until the bell rang — but when Moody had dismissed them and they had left the classroom, a torrent of talk burst forth. Most people were discussing the curses in awed voices — “Did you see it twitch?” “— and when he killed it — just like that!” Jacob complained how 14/15 shouldn’t be having that lesson, that that lesson wasn’t appropriate. One of the things he said was “Where does Dumbledore shop for D.A.D.A. teachers? Hell".   

“HE’S USING THE IMPERIOUS CURSE ON US AND DUMBLEDORE STILL CAN’T GET RID OF HIM?! FUCK LEARNING HOW TO GET FREE. HE IS TORTURING US AND DUMBLEDORE’S ALLOWING IT AND NO ONE’S DOING ANYTHING! AND ON TOP OF THIS ALL THE TEACHERS ARE INCREASING THE HOMEWORK LEVELS BECAUSE OF OWLS NEXT YEAR. THIS ISN’T FUCKING RIGHT!”  

“You're so hot when you get worked up”  

However, after two months of dealing with all this horrible things, one exciting thing was announced on the 2nd to last week of October. When everyone arrived in the entrance hall for dinner one day that week, everyone found a large sign that had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. The sign filled the school with excitement.   

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT  

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early. Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.  

The appearance of the sign in the entrance hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where Jacob went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Hogwarts champion, what the tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang differed from themselves. Jacob noticed too that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their subjects, who sat huddled in their frames muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their raw pink faces. The suits of Armor were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Argus Filch, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any students who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics. Other members of the staff seemed oddly tense too. “Longbottom, kindly do not reveal that you can’t even perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Durmstrang!” Professor McGonagall barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Neville had accidentally transplanted his own ears onto a cactus.  

When Students went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, they found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. Nobody was very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang; even Potions was more bearable than usual, as it was half an hour shorter. When the bell rang early, Draco and Jacob hurried down to the slytherin dungeon, deposited their bags and books as they had been instructed, pulled on their cloaks, and rushed back downstairs into the entrance hall. The Heads of Houses were ordering their students into lines. They filed down the steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Forbidden Forest.  They scanned the darkening grounds excitedly, but nothing was moving; everything was still, silent, and quite as usual. And then Dumbledore called out from the back row where he stood with the other teachers —  

“Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!”  

Something large, much larger than a broomstick — or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks — was hurtling across the deep blue sky toward the castle, growing larger all the time.  As the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Forbidden Forest and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, Jacob saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring toward them, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant. The front three rows of students drew backward as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed — then, with an almighty crash that made Neville jump backward onto a Slytherin fifth year’s foot, the horses’ hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes. Jacob just had time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened. A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forward, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor, and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then Jacob saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage — a shoe the size of a child’s sled — followed, almost immediately, by the largest woman he had ever seen in his life. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped. Jacob had only ever seen one person as large as this woman in his life, and that was Hagrid. Yet somehow this woman (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at the waiting, wide-eyed crowd) seemed even more unnaturally large. As she stepped into the light flooding from the entrance hall, she was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, liquid-looking eyes; and a rather beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back in a shining knob at the base of her neck. She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers. Dumbledore started to clap; the students, following his lead, broke into applause too, many of them standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this woman. Her face relaxed into a gracious smile and she walked forward toward Dumbledore, extending a glittering hand. Dumbledore, though tall himself, had barely to bend to kiss it.  

“My dear Madame Maxime, Welcome to Hogwarts.”  

“Dumbly-dorr, I ’ope I find you well?”  

“In excellent form, I thank you,”   

“My pupils,”   

Jacob, whose attention had been focused completely upon Madame Maxime, now noticed that about a dozen boys and girls, all, by the look of them, in their late teens, had emerged from the carriage and were now standing behind Madame Maxime. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing cloaks. A few had wrapped scarves and shawls around their heads. From what Jacob could see of them (they were standing in Madame Maxime’s enormous shadow), they were staring up at Hogwarts with apprehensive looks on their faces.  

“ ’As Karkaroff arrived yet?”  

“He should be here any moment, Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?”  

“Warm up, I think, But ze ’orses —”  

“Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them, the moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation that has arisen with some of his other — er — charges.”  

“My steeds require — er — forceful ’andling, Zey are very strong. …”  

“I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job,”   

“Very well, Will you please inform zis ’Agrid zat ze ’orses drink only single-malt whiskey?”  

“It will be attended to,”  

“Come,” said Madame Maxime imperiously to her students, and the Hogwarts crowd parted to allow her and her students to pass up the stone steps. The hogwarts students stood, shivering slightly now, waiting for the Durmstrang party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Madame Maxime’s huge horses snorting and stamping. But then — a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting toward them from out of the darkness: a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.  From their position at the top of the lawns overlooking the grounds, the students had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water — except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were now washing over the muddy banks — and then, out in the very middle of the lake, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the lake’s floor.