The sun had now begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again and inside the castle, the mood had grown more hopeful. There had been no more attacks since those on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick, and Madam Pomfrey was pleased to report that the Mandrakes were becoming moody and secretive, meaning that they were fast leaving childhood

    "The moment their acne clears up, they'll be ready for repotting again," she told Tigerlily kindly one afternoon. "And after that, it won't be long until we're cutting them up and stewing them. You'll have your brother back in no time."

    Perhaps Harry finally realized he could not keep getting away with the attacks. Everyone was alert and suspicious, which would make any kind of petrifying harder to go unnoticed. Tigerlily liked to think that the monster, whatever it was, had settled itself down to hibernate for another fifty years — hopefully longer.

    Ernie Macmillan was still really wary, though. He was still convinced that Harry had "given himself away" at the Dueling Club, and continued pushing that idea onto Tigerlily. Peeves supported this motion, popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter..." with a dance routine to match. It wasn't as funny as the poltergeist thought it was.

    Professor Lockhart seemed to think he was the reason why the attacks had stopped. Tigerlily overheard him telling Professor McGonagall this while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration. "I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he said, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit must have known it was only a matter of time before I caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him.

    "You know, what the school needs now is a morale-booster. Wash away the memories of last term! I won't say any more just now, but I think I know just the thing..."

    He tapped his nose again and strode off.

    Lockhart's idea of a morale-booster became clear at breakfast time on February fourteenth. Tigerlily entered the Great Hall with Oliver, rubbing her eyes in hopes of shooing her grogginess away after the late-running Quidditch practice they'd had the night before, and was stunned when she saw what the Hall had been turned into. For a moment, she thought she had rubbed her eyes too hard and was imagining it all.

    The walls were all covered with large, vividly pink flowers. Heart-shaped confetti was falling from the pale blue ceiling, and Tigerlily had to keep scooping the little pieces of paper out of her bowl of porridge in order to actually be able to eat it. Oliver didn't seem to mind the decorations or the exhaustion from the day prior that much.

    At the teachers' table, Lockhart was wearing bright pink robes to match the decorations and waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. McGonagall didn't look very pleased, and Snape's face was a lot more sour than usual.

    "Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all — and it doesn't end here!"

    Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the entrance hall marched a dozen grumpy-looking dwarfs. They weren't ordinary dwarfs, though. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

    "My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

    Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

    All day long, the dwarfs kept barging into their classes to deliver valentines, to the annoyance of the teachers. The following day, however, everything had gone back to normal, the decorations from the Great Hall gone and the dwarves nowhere to be seen.

    Tigerlily had been trying her best to keep busy with schoolwork, but she was becoming so diligent with it that she was running out of work to complete. Even if there had been no more attacks, she was still suspicious of Harry and avoided him as much as she could manage, which proved itself to be a difficult task especially when considering the fact that they had to work together as a team every Saturday in preparation for their upcoming match against Hufflepuff.

    One particular Saturday morning in mid-February, Tigerlily was heading down to the pitch when she bumped into Cedric, who offered to walk her to the field. She gladly accepted and the two of them fell into their usual comfortable and mundane conversation as they walked through the school grounds, the badger and the lion enjoying each other's company.

    Cedric let her go at the dressing rooms, clapping her amicably on the shoulder and shooting her a thumbs-up and an encouraging smile before leaving. As Tigerlily marched inside to get changed and pick up her broom, she was met by a very serious-looking Oliver. She didn't even get a chance to pretend to be confused by his attitude.

    "You gonna bring that bloke to our practices from now on?" he demanded, raising his eyebrows. The rest of the team was busy fixing their protective gear, but Tigerlily knew they were all listening in to the exchange the moment she caught them exchanging awkward glances.

    "No," she said, walking past Oliver to get to her locker. As she pulled on her Quidditch robes, she continued, "He was only walking me here. It's not safe to walk around alone with everything going on, you know."

    "That's inside the castle," argued Oliver. "Out here you're safe — but the team isn't if you keep bringing the enemy over when we're practicing."

     Tigerlily looked back at him in disbelief. "Oliver, he's only looking out for me."

    "Oh, how convenient of him!" said Oliver, scoffing. "We're weeks away from our match against Hufflepuff, and their Seeker thinks it's time to start looking out for one of our own!"

    "Think whatever you like." Tigerlily grumbled, walking out of the changing room.

    Oliver was quick to follow, but he bumped straight into her the moment she halted abruptly. Harry was entering the pitch, hurrying along with his Nimbus 2000 in hand. Tigerlily froze upon seeing him like she always did. Avoiding him throughout the week and during lessons was easy, but being part of the Quidditch team meant seeing him once a week on the dot, and she hated it. She hated the feeling seeing him brought; when she looked into his eyes, all she could see were her brother's blown, frozen ones.

    She really didn't need Oliver bugging her about Cedric on top of all of that.

    "Harry," said Oliver, clearing his throat and putting on a smile for him. "We were only waiting for you. The team's inside, Tiger and I were just having a chat. Mind giving us a moment?"

    Harry looked between him and Tigerlily, immediately picking up on the tension. He nodded before hurrying away and disappearing inside the changing rooms.

    "Have you even had a chance to practice with your new broom?" Oliver asked after a moment as a lame attempt to change the topic.

    "No," Tigerlily muttered, still in a sour mood. "I've been busy."

    "Busy running around with Diggory, I'm sure..."

    Tigerlily groaned, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

    "What's the matter with you?" she said, her nostrils flaring. "May I remind you, my brother's been petrified."

    "I know that — "

    "So you just don't care, then?" Tigerlily shot back. Oliver even took a step back. She scoffed, shaking her head. "Of course. You care more about Quidditch than you do about anything else. To hell with what I was going through, right?"

    "Tigerlily, you know that's not true — "

    "But it is! Colin's been stuck in the Hospital Wing for months and all you're worried about is how much time I'm spending with Cedric? You don't get to tell me not to hang around the only person who was actually there for me! You don't know what it's like."

    "I know Diggory's being awfully friendly now that it suits him!"

    "Oh my god, Oliver!" Tigerlily huffed, storming away from him.

    "Chick — Tigerlily, wait!" he called, running after her. "Tigerlily, hold on — Tigerlily, listen." he grabbed her by the elbow and turned her around to face him. "I... you're right." he sighed. "I don't know what it's like, to have a brother, and to have him be in the Hospital, petrified. So forgive me if I'm... insensitive to what you're going through. I... I don't know what it's like to have a sibling, but" — he sighed and rubbed his eyes — "I know what it's like to care and worry about someone a lot. I know I want you to be okay, and safe, and protected, and I'm sorry that part of that makes me take it out on you when I see you with Diggory. I'm sure he's an alright fellow — "

    "More than alright" Tigerlily grumbled, and Oliver managed a weak chuckle.

    "He's a more than alright fellow, and I'm glad to know he was there to help you when I couldn't be. So... I'm sorry. I guess I just got a bit jealous thinking about my, er," he scratched the back of his neck. "My little sister replacing me."

    Tigerlily looked up at him, stunned. She didn't know which part shocked her more.

    "You think of me as your little sister?" she breathed in awe.

    Oliver stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged as he looked down at his feet, scuffing his shoe. "I mean, yeah. I trained you and all. I'spose I just — "

    Oliver didn't get a chance to finish because Tigerlily jumped into his arms, hiding her face in his chest.

    "I would never replace you," she said, her voice muffled and slightly choked up. "Oliver, you're... you're my brother."

    Oliver's insides warmed up the moment the word left her mouth. He hugged her back tightly, eternally grateful for the day they'd met and he'd assumed she was a Puddlemere United fan.

❋

    It was now nearly four months since Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been Petrified, and most people seemed to think that the attacker, whoever it was, had retired for good. Peeves had finally got bored of his "Oh, Potter, you rotter" song, Ernie Macmillan was back on speaking terms with Harry, and in March several of the Mandrakes threw a loud and raucous party in greenhouse three. This made Professor Sprout very happy, for according to her, they were nearing full maturity and would be ready to use soon.

    Additionally, the second-years were given something new to think about during their Easter holidays. The time had come to choose their subjects for the third year, and Tigerlily had sat down with Cedric for advice.

    "Well, it depends on what you're interested in, really," he told her. "Have you given any thought to what you'd like to do in the future?"

    "Not really," Tigerlily admitted, frowning as she looked over the subject list for what must've been the hundredth time that day. Her eyes stopped on the subject she had circled with one of her pens earlier. "I would like to take this class, though,"

    Cedric peered at the sheet in her hand, nodding approvingly when he saw what she was referring to.

    "Care of Magical Creatures is fun," he said. "Professor Kettleburn's pure dead brilliant."

    "Kettleburn teaches that class?" Tigerlily said, her eyebrows raising along with the corners of her lips. "I like him. He visited me when I got my acceptance letter to explain Hogwarts to me and my family."

    "He's an excellent professor," Cedric nodded. "Very passionate about his class."

    "Care of Magical Creatures it is, then..." Tigerlily said, filling in the form McGonagall had handed all second-years. "I just need to pick one more..."

    Arithmancy looked difficult, and Cedric told her he had friends who were taking the class and hated it, so it was immediately crossed off her list. Ancient Runes appeared to be interesting, but Tigerlily didn't see much use to that kind of knowledge. Muggle Studies should be easy enough considering her upbringing, but she was certain she wasn't going to learn anything she did not already know from that class, especially after Cedric assured her it was a very straightforward subject.

    Finally, she settled for Divination. Looking into the future sounded like a good enough skill to have. When she asked Cedric for his opinion, he just laughed and shrugged.

    "Be ready for some weird lessons," was all he had to say about the class, so Tigerlily added it to her form and sealed the envelope, happy with her choices.

❋

    Gryffindor's next Quidditch match against Hufflepuff was getting closer and closer, and Oliver had begun insisting on team practices every night after dinner, so Tigerlily barely had time for anything other than Quidditch and homework. She and Cedric saw less of each other since they were both kept busy by their team captains and training schedules, but thankfully Tigerlily had managed to smooth over the argument she'd had with hers.

    Oliver, though still definitely not fond of Cedric, had accepted the fact that Tigerlily was not going to stop being friends with the Hufflepuff. Her assurance about not intending to replace him also helped to keep his mind at ease.

    To stay on that bright note, the training sessions were getting better, or at least drier, and it was reflecting on everyone's performances. Tigerlily was back to herself, flying faster than ever on her new Shooting Star and scoring more points than she ever thought possible. The evening before the match she went up to her dormitory with a big smile on her face; Gryffindor's chances for the Quidditch cup had never been better.

    She woke the next day to brilliant sunshine and a light, refreshing breeze.

    "Perfect Quidditch conditions!" said Oliver enthusiastically at the Gryffindor table, loading the team's plates with scrambled eggs. He kept throwing in spoonfuls of fruit into Tigerlily's porridge until she had to force him to stop.

    She left the Great Hall with Cedric, the two of them shoving and teasing each together playfully as they headed down to the pitch.

    "You do know Gryffindor's got this one in the bag, don't you?" Tigerlily said, grinning as she poked Cedric on the ribs.

    He laughed, and in retaliation ruffled her hair. "I seriously doubt that, Creevey. Just you wait until you see our new strategy."

    "Can't be better than ours," Tigerlily said smugly, marching on ahead of him.

    Cedric caught up to her, knocking his shoulder into hers. "Totally can."

    "Oh, yeah?" Tigerlily raised an eyebrow. Then she had a brilliant idea. "Race you to the pitch? Last one to get there's a dungbomb!"

    She took off laughing, leaving a very confused Cedric behind. He caught up with her in the blink of the eye, though, and the two of them giggled and pushed each other out of the other's way as they rushed towards the entrance, the chatter of all the people talking loudly as they headed to the pitch fading behind them. Cedric and Tigerlily ultimately decided their race had been a tie and they wished each other good luck before parting ways, heading to their respective changing rooms to finish getting ready for the match.

    The teams walked onto the field to tumultuous applause. Oliver took off for a warm-up flight around the goal posts; Madam Hooch released the balls. The Hufflepuffs, who played in canary yellow, were standing in a huddle, having a last-minute discussion of tactics. From where she stood, Tigerlily stuck her tongue out at Cedric and held her fingers in the shape of an 'L' in front of her forehead. He returned the gesture and the two of them laughed, but Tigerlily's smile faded the moment she saw Professor McGonagall appear, half-marching, half-running across the pitch, carrying an enormous purple megaphone.

    That couldn't be good.

    "This match has been cancelled," Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver, looking devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall.

    "But, Professor!" he shouted. "We've got to play — Gryffindor — "

    Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone: "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!"

    Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry and Tigerlily over to her. The girl hesitated but joined her professor, keeping a safe distance from Harry as she often did.

    "Potter, Creevey, I think you'd better come with me..."

    In a matter of seconds, Ron had detached himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To both Harry and Tigerlily's surprise, Professor McGonagall didn't object.

    "Yes, perhaps you'd better come, too, Weasley..."

    Something definitely wasn't right. Tigerlily looked over her shoulder, frowning when she realized Hermione was nowhere to be seen.

    "Where's Hermione?" she asked Ron.

    "She said she was going to the library but promised she'd make it back before the match," he explained, sounding as uneasy as Tigerlily felt.

    Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. Harry, Tigerlily, and Ron followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. Tigerlily's pace was a lot quicker than the boys' as she walked side by side to her Professor, looking up at the woman worriedly every few seconds. She had a suspicion, and it was one she hoped was extremely far-fetched.

    "This will be a bit of a shock," said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary, finally meeting the younger girl's questioning gaze. "There has been another attack... another double attack."

    Tigerlily's stomach lurched so horribly she was afraid she'd throw up right then and there. She didn't even need to be told who had been attacked for her to know. Professor McGonagall pushed the door open and she and the boys entered. Inside, Madam Pomfrey was bending over a fifth-year girl with long, curly hair. And on the bed next to her was —

    "Hermione!" Ron groaned.

    Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy, just as Colin's were a few beds away.

    Tigerlily felt her whole body grow cold as she stared at her best friend, her previously cheerful mood fading away in an instant. This was the moment she'd been dreading the most for weeks.

    "They were found near the library," said Professor McGonagall. "I don't suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them..."

    She was holding up a small, circular mirror.

    Harry and Ron shook their heads, both staring at Hermione. Tigerlily couldn't even move. If those two were clueless, she was entirely lost. She and Hermione had barely spoken recently, and it had all been because Tigerlily had chosen to believe a stupid rumor.

    It was always the easiest way out, to point a finger and lay the blame on someone else — that someone being Harry. But now, standing in the infirmary just a few feet away from him and seeing his face contort into a mix of sadness and shock, Tigerlily knew she had made a mistake.

    "I will escort you back to Gryffindor Tower," said Professor McGonagall heavily. "I need to address the students in any case."

❋

    "All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."

    The Gryffindors packed inside the common room listened to Professor McGonagall in silence.

    She rolled up the parchment from which she had been reading and said in a somewhat choked voice, "I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

    She climbed somewhat awkwardly out of the portrait hole, and the Gryffindors began talking immediately.

    "That's two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff, " said the Weasley twins' friend Lee Jordan, counting on his fingers. "Haven't any of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn't it obvious all this stuff's coming from Slytherin? The Heir of Slytherin, the monster of Slytherin — why don't they just chuck all the Slytherins out?" he roared, to nods and scattered applause.

    It was a bit extreme, but Tigerlily could finally see some reason in that argument. How could she have ever convinced herself it was Harry? He was a Gryffindor, through and through. Most importantly, he was her friend. And Hermione's. It made no sense for him to be behind the attacks.

    That evening, Tigerlily was alone in the common room, mulling over her thoughts. She couldn't get the image of Hermione lying on the hospital bed as though carved out of stone out of her mind. Harry could not be behind it, she kept telling herself. He'd looked absolutely distraught when they found out.

    Tigerlily knew she couldn't just sit around and do nothing any longer, letting Harry and Ron try to figure out who the culprit was on their own. She needed to know too, for her own sanity and the well-being of Colin and Hermione. So when she was woken up from the armchair she'd fallen asleep on by none other than Harry and Ron themselves, she was quick to accept their plea for her help.

❋

    Tigerlily still felt ashamed for having thought Harry was behind the attacks, but when she tried apologizing, he didn't let her.

    "Tigerlily, I understand," he told her, shaking his head firmly. "You thought I hurt your brother. I'm just glad you know the truth now and... and I'm happy to have you back."

    "Yes," said Ron, "me too — but we should really get going now if we want answers."

    The way Harry and Ron had it, Hagrid had been behind the first opening of the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago. Tigerlily found this theory outrageous, but listened to the boys explain everything that had gone down since she had distanced herself from them, from the Polyjuice Potion, to the enchanted diary Harry had found in Myrtle's bathroom.

    It was hard having a conversation when the three of them were huddled together under Harry's Invisibility Cloak; the dark and usually deserted castle corridors were surprisingly crowded. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts were marching in pairs, staring around for any unusual activity. Harry had to speak in hushed tones, making a lot of pauses in between his sentences, and because the Invisibility Cloak didn't stop them from making any noise, 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 the door open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang the boarhound barked loudly behind him.

    "Oh," he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. "What're yeh doin' here? Tigerlily, I thought yeh weren' talkin' to these two."

    Tigerlily's cheeks flushed, but thankfully Harry intervened.

    "What's that for?" he said, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.

    "Nothin' — nothin' — " Hagrid muttered. "I've been expectin' — doesn't matter — Sit down — I'll make tea — "

    He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He almost 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 okay, Hagrid?" said Harry. "Did you hear about Hermione?"

    "Oh, I heard, all right," said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice. He kept glancing nervously at the windows. He poured them 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, Ron, and Tigerlily 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 odd-looking 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 hat.

    "That's Dad's boss!" Ron breathed. "Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic!"

    Harry 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," said Fudge in rather clipped tones. "Very bad business. Had to come. Four attacks on Muggle-borns. Things've gone far enough. Ministry's got to act."

    "I never," said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. "You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir — "

    "I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence," said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.

    "Look, Albus," said Fudge, uncomfortably. "Hagrid's record's against him. Ministry's got to do something — the school governors have been in touch — "

    "Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest," said Dumbledore. He was completely calm, as always, and yet there was still a sharpness to his gaze Tigerlily had never seen in him before.

    "Look at it from my point of view," said Fudge, fidgeting with his hat. "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 — "

    "Take me?" said Hagrid, who was trembling. "Take me where?"

    "For a short stretch only," said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you'll be let out with a full apology — "

    "Not Azkaban?" croaked Hagrid.

    Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.

    Dumbledore answered it. It was Harry's turn for an elbow in the ribs, except he got one on each side; he'd let out an audible gasp.

    Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid's hut, wearing a long, black traveling cloak and smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.

    "Already here, Fudge," he said approvingly. "Good, good..."

    "What're you doin' here?" said Hagrid furiously. "Get outta my house!"

    "My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your — er — d'you call this a house?" said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. "I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here."

    Tigerlily was going to need more than an elbow to the ribs to shut her up if that man kept talking to Hagrid like that. She could feel the heat rising up her neck as she scowled, shifting on her feet, but Ron picked up on it, too. Though he wore a matching scowl, he shook his head at her and looped his arm with hers to keep her in place.

    "And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?" said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but his blue eyes looked sharper than ever.

    "Dreadful thing, Dumbledore," said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, "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? Two 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."

    "Oh, now, see here, Lucius," said Fudge, looking alarmed, "Dumbledore suspended — no, no — last thing we want just now."

    "The appointment — or suspension — of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge," said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. "And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks — "

    "See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can't stop them," said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, "I mean to say, who can?"

    "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. "And how many did yeh have to threaten and blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" he roared.

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

    "Yeh can't take Dumbledore!" yelled Hagrid, making Fang cower and whimper in his basket. "Take him away, and the Muggle-borns won't stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

    "Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside — "

    "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... Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

    Tigerlily recoiled. She could have sworn Dumbledore's eyes flickered toward the corner where she, Harry, and Ron were hidden.

    "Admirable sentiments," said Malfoy, bowing. "We shall all miss your — er — highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope your successor will manage to prevent any — ah — killings."

    He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, still fiddling with his hat, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, "If anyone wanted to find out some stuff, all they'd have to do would be to 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, "And someone'll need to feed Fang while I'm away."

    The door banged shut and Ron pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

    "We're in trouble now," Ron said hoarsely. "No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There'll be an attack a day with him gone."

    Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door.