It looked like the end of Ron and Hermione's friendship. Each was so angry with the other that I couldn't see how they'd ever make up.

Ron was enraged that Hermione had never taken Crookshanks's attempts to eat Scabbers seriously, hadn't bothered to keep a close enough watch on him, and was still trying to pretend that Crookshanks was innocent by suggesting that Ron look for Scabbers under all the boys' beds. Hermione, meanwhile, maintained fiercely that Ron had no proof that Crookshanks had eaten Scabbers, that the ginger hairs might have been there since Christmas, and that Ron had been prejudiced against her cat ever since Crookshanks had landed on Ron's head in the Magical Menagerie.

I tried to tell them that in tough times friends should stick together. This earned me two slaps, one from Hermione.

"Willow you idiot! You don't even know what you're talking about!" She snapped at me before stalking off.

The other slap was from Ron. Hermione hit me harder though.

"Damn it Willow! What would you do if Soxy got eaten by Hedwig! You wouldn't be happy with Harry would you?"

"But Hedwig likes Soxy."

"Ugh! You're so immature!" he stalked off to haunt the boy's dorm.

"How hypocritical."

I sat down halfway between anger and sadness so I settled for happy. It's easier to be happy than sad. Harry slumped down beside me.

"This is crap." He said.

"It will brighten up!" I said positively.

"I doubt it."

Ron came back down the stairs as though he was bored of being annoyed on his own.

"That cat ate Scabbers!" Ron complained as he threw himself into a chair.

"Come on, Ron, you were always saying how boring Scabbers was," said Fred bracingly. "And he's been off-colour for ages, he was wasting away. It was probably better for him to snuff it quickly -- one swallow -- he probably didn't feel a thing."

"Fred!" said Ginny indignantly.

"All he did was eat and sleep, Ron, you said it yourself," said George.

"He bit Goyle for us once!" Ron said miserably. "Remember, Harry?"

"Yeah, that's true," said Harry.

"His finest hour," said Fred, unable to keep a straight face. "Let the scar on Goyle's finger stand as a lasting tribute to his memory. Oh, come on, Ron, get yourself down to Hogsmeade and buy a new rat, what's the point of moaning?"

I was all depressed when the team left for Quidditch practice.

There was no Harry to destroy my optimistic thoughts.

There was no Ron to complain about Scabbers and my immaturity.

There was no Hermione to cry to me or try to cheer up.

There was no George to, ahem, tell secrets to.

I actually sat down and read my potions textbook, in a surprisingly short amount of time. The worst part was that I liked it. After freaking myself out from being quiet and reading potions books, I decided to give the Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook a try. It was equally awesome.

"Okay, Willow, you're reading and being quiet, what's wrong?" Lucy called out in my head.

"You know, I really am not sure." I said back.

***

I went down to breakfast the next morning by myself. I sat down and started eating everything in sight. I think I'm an emotional eater. As Harry entered the Great Hall, heads turned in the direction of the Firebolt, and there was a good deal of excited muttering

I heard Ron as he and Harry joined the table.

"Did you see his face?" said Ron gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! This is brilliant!"

Wood, too, was basking in the reflected glory of the Firebolt.

"Put it here, Harry," he said, laying the broom in the middle of the table and carefully turning it so that its name faced upward. People from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were soon coming over to look. Cedric Diggory came over to congratulate Harry on having acquired such a superb replacement for his Nimbus, and Percy's Ravenclaw girlfriend, Penelope Clearwater, asked if she could actually hold the Firebolt.

"Now, now, Penny, no sabotage!" said Percy heartily as she examined the Firebolt closely. "Penelope and I have got a bet on," he told the team. "Ten Galleons on the outcome of the match!"

Penelope put the Firebolt down again, thanked Harry, and went back to her table.

"Harry -- make sure you win," said Percy, in an urgent whisper. "I haven't got ten Galleons. Yes, I'm coming, Penny!" And he bustled off to join her in a piece of toast.

I didn't feel like joining in all the celebration and happiness, but I kept that smile on my face, like always.

I never know if I'm actually happy or just faking it, it all just about feels the same now.

"Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?" said a cold, drawling voice.

Draco Malfoy had arrived for a closer look, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him.

"Yeah, reckon so," said Harry casually.

"Got plenty of special features, hasn't it?" said Malfoy, eyes glittering maliciously. "Shame it doesn't come with a parachute -- in case you get too near a Dementor."

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"Pity you can't attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy," said Harry. "Then it could catch the Snitch for you."

anyone who heard it burst into laughter. Malfoy's pale eyes narrowed, and he stalked away.

I sat in the stands beside Hermione who looked as though she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

"Are you alright?" I asked her.

"No, not really." She said softly.

We shut up to listen to the commentary by Lee Jordan.

"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?" interrupted Professor McGonagall's voice.

"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..."

Harry was flying around and Cho was following him.

Stalker.

Harry spotted the snitch and dived; Cho saw what he was doing and tore after him -- Harry was speeding up. Excitement flooded through the stands. Dives were Harry's specialty, he was ten feet away --

Then a Bludger, hit by one of the Ravenclaw Beaters, came pelting out of nowhere; Harry veered off course, avoiding it by an inch, and in those few, crucial seconds, the Snitch had vanished.

There was a great "Ooooooh" of disappointment from the Gryffindor supporters, but much applause for their Beater from the Ravenclaw end.

"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.

Harry dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow;

"He's feinting!" Ron yelled out somewhere behind me.

Harry pulled out of the dive very sharply; Cho hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more.

He accelerated; so, many feet below, did Cho. He was winning, gaining on the Snitch with every second -- then --

"Oh!" screamed Cho, pointing.

Distracted, I looked down.

Three Dementors, three tall, black, hooded Dementors, were looking up at the game. Hermione nudged me.

I whipped out my wand and chanted "Expecto Patronum." In my head. This time a deer shot out of my wand and I was kind of confused at why it changed. I had no time to be confused though, because I looked up and saw Harry had also shot a patronus at them.

Damn having the same thought line as Harry.

Poo.

Bum.

Pizza.

mmmm....pizza.

Quidditch! Pay attention!

I looked back up and Harry was holding the snitch in his hand.

"YES!" I shouted

Madam Hooch's whistle sounded.

The whole Gryffindor team had embraced Harry in some kind of murderous hug.

The stand seemed to be flooding out onto the field, and Ron and I were in the lead.

"Yes!" Ron yelled, yanking Harry's arm into the air. "Yes! Yes!"

"Sex noises!" I shouted. "What!" I said as a few fourth years were looking at me like I was crazy. "Ron was doing it!"

"Well done, Harry!" said Percy, looking delighted. "Ten Galleons to me! Must find Penelope, excuse me --"

"Good for you, Harry!" roared Seamus Finnigan.

"Ruddy brilliant!" boomed Hagrid over the heads of the milling Gryffindors.

"That was quite some Patronus," Lupin said.

Harry and I turned around to see Professor Lupin, who looked both shaken and pleased.

"The Dementors didn't affect me at all!" Harry said excitedly. "I didn't feel a thing!"

"That would be because they -- er -- weren't Dementors," said Professor Lupin. "Come and see -- "

He led Harry and I out of the crowd until we were able to see the edge of the field.

"You gave Mr. Malfoy quite a fright," said Lupin.

I stared. Lying in a crumpled heap on the ground were Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin team Captain, all struggling to remove themselves from long, black, hooded robes. It looked as though Malfoy had been standing on Goyle's shoulders. Standing over them, with an expression of the utmost fury on her face, was Professor McGonagall.

"An unworthy trick!" she was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

I seemed to explode with laughter. Harry and I were leaning on each other for support.

"And and it was-" I kept trying to talk but my giggles were too hard to fight.

"Come on, guys!" said George, fighting his way over. "Party! Gryffindor common room, now!"

"Right," said Harry, and feeling happier than he had in ages, he and the rest of the team led the way, still in their scarlet robes, out of the stadium and back up to the castle.

"Willow," Said Professor Lupin. "I'd like a word, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." I followed him up to his office and we sat down.

"How did you know how to do a patronus?" he asked seriously.

"I'd seen Harry do it, so I knew the spell. And I keep seeing his thoughts whenever he faces a Dementor, so I got grumpy one night and did it, and It was a llama but now it's a deer." I stopped a moment. "That didn't make much sense did it?"

"No but yes at the same time." Lupin looked at me, a very calculating look. "You're an extraordinary Witch Willow." He looked as though there was something he was trying to remember but couldn't. I didn't know what to say so I remained quiet.

"I think you should go join the Gryffindor festivities." He said.

I sprinted up the stairs and came to a halt at the portrait hole. Fred and George were standing there, laden with food and drinks from honeydukes.

"Amazing flying today." I smiled at them.

"You too." George said. Then he instantly blushed and mumbled the password.

Fred looked like he was about to cry with laughter.

We entered the common room

"How did you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," he muttered in my ear.

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles.

Harry broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her, I don't think he noticed that I was on his tail.

"Did you even come to the match?" he asked her.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

"Come on, Hermione, come and have some food," Harry said.

"I can't, Harry. I've still got four hundred and twenty-two pages to read!" said Hermione, now sounding slightly hysterical. "Anyway..." She glanced over at Ron too. "He doesn't want me to join in."

Ron chose that moment to say loudly, "If Scabbers hadn't just been eaten; he could have had some of those Fudge Flies. He used to really like them --"

Hermione burst into tears. Before we could say or do anything, she tucked the enormous book under her arm, and, still sobbing, ran toward the staircase to the girls' dormitories and out of sight.

"Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked Ron quietly.

"No," said Ron flatly. "If she just acted like she was sorry -- but she'll never admit she's wrong, Hermione. She's still acting like Scabbers has gone on vacation or something."

"You're such an asshole!" I snapped at him.

"And her cat killed-"

"Acted like a cat. You went on for three years complaining about how you hated him, and now this! Seriously Ronald. Grow the bloody hell up." My voice was freakishly quiet. I didn't want to make a scene. Ron stood frozen as though he didn't know what to say. So I smiled sugary sweet and joined back in with the party.

The party ended only when Professor McGonagall turned up in her tartan dressing gown and hair net at one in the morning, to insist that we all go to bed.

I lay in bed unable to sleep. It seemed like ages.

Finally, I decided to go down to the common room to enjoy the fire.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGHHHHHHH! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I opened the dormitory door and saw a man running down the stairs. He froze for a moment and looked at me.

Sirius.

Freaking.

Black.

"I know you." He whispered.

I seemed to freeze up and only calmed down once he had left the room.

Doors started opening up and down the staircase.

"Who shouted?"

"What're you doing?"

The common room was lit with the glow of the dying fire, still littered with the debris from the party. It was deserted.

"Are you sure you weren't dreaming, Ron?"

"I'm telling you, I saw him!"

"What's all the noise?"

"Professor McGonagall told us to go to bed!"

A few of the girls had come down their staircase, pulling on dressing gowns and yawning. Boys, too, were reappearing.

Harry appeared beside me.

"Excellent, are we carrying on?" said Fred Weasley brightly.

"Everyone back upstairs!" said Percy, hurrying into the common room and pinning his Head Boy badge to his pyjamas as he spoke.

"Perce -- Sirius Black!" said Ron faintly. "In our dormitory! With a knife! Woke me up!"

The common room went very still.

"Nonsense!" said Percy, looking startled. "You had too much to eat, Ron -- had a nightmare --"

"I'm telling you --"

"Now, really, enough's enough!"

Professor McGonagall was back. She slammed the portrait behind her as she entered the common room and stared furiously around.

"I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!"

"I certainly didn't authorize this, Professor!" said Percy, puffing himself up indignantly. "I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare --"

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"I-I saw him too professor." I tried to say, but I didn't have a voice.

Seriously! I have been faced with worse things and I didn't freak out then!

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?" McGonagall snapped.

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw --"

Glaring suspiciously at Ron, Professor McGonagall pushed the portrait back open and went outside. The whole common room listened with bated breath. "Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

There was a stunned silence, both inside and outside the common room.

"You -- you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But -- but the password!"

"He had 'em!" said Sir Cadogan proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Read 'em off a little piece of paper!"

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

There was utter silence, broken by the smallest of terrified squeaks. Neville Longbottom, trembling from head to fluffy slippered toes, raised his hand slowly into the air.