Chapter 226
Chapter 226
A ghost whom almost nobody liked came cackling through the doors of the Great Hall as the feast drew to a close.
“What are you doing here, Peeves?” Filch stepped forward at once. “Tonight is no time for your nonsense.”
“That silly old Fat Lady! Half her portrait’s been slashed away while you lot were celebrating so merrily… I thought it was very funny, so I came to tell you all to have a look.”
Peeves was as gleeful as ever.
“What did you say?” Dumbledore’s voice carried from the staff table.
Peeves’s wicked grin vanished at once. He might mock almost anyone else in the castle, but he did not dare play his usual tricks on Dumbledore.
“The Fat Lady’s portrait has been ruined.” Peeves’s wavering voice echoed over the Hall. Everyone fell silent and held their breath.
“I saw her hiding in a landscape on the fifth floor, Headmaster. She’s crouched in the bushes, crying her eyes out.”
Dumbledore’s expression became grave. “Minerva, please go to Gryffindor Tower at once and see precisely what has happened.”
“Argus… please find the Fat Lady on the fifth floor.”
Filch nodded solemnly and left through the doors, with Mrs Norris following close behind.
“Everyone else will remain in the Hall for the moment.” Dumbledore surveyed the room and waved his hand. The Great Hall immediately returned to normal. The candles overhead regained their usual orange flames, and the bats vanished.
“Peeves, did she say who did it?” Dumbledore asked softly.
“Oh, she did.” Peeves planted one foot on the other and shot higher into the air. “The Fat Lady wouldn’t let him in, and he got ever so angry. Always was like that, such a nasty temper…”
“Very frightening indeed — Sirius Black.”
Peeves’s voice rang with particular clarity through the silent Hall. Sharp intakes of breath sounded on every side.
“Thank you, Peeves. You may go,” said Dumbledore, his expression unchanged and his voice still mild. Then he turned to address the pupils.
“Any time, Professor-in-Chief.” Peeves spun away through the enchanted ceiling.
Once he had gone, Dumbledore continued.
“The teachers and I must conduct a complete search of the castle. To ensure your safety, I am afraid you will all have to spend the night here. I ask the prefects to guard the entrances to the Hall. The Head Boy and Head Girl will be responsible for maintaining order.”
“If anything unexpected occurs, have the ghosts report to me immediately.”
“You may rely on me, Professor Dumbledore. I’ll assist you and make certain not one pupil leaves.” Percy stood, his Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest. Everyone could hear how immensely pleased he was with himself.
“I leave it in your hands, Mr Weasley.”
Dumbledore inclined his head and was about to depart through the side entrance beside the staff table when he remembered something. He stopped and turned back.
“Ah, yes. You will need…”
He drew his wand and gave it a gentle wave. The golden plates vanished from the long tables, which flew to the sides of the Hall and stacked themselves against the walls. Another wave brought hundreds of soft purple sleeping bags into existence across the floor.
“Rest well, and do not worry.”
With that, Professor Dumbledore left and closed the doors behind him.
Low murmurs filled the Hall as soon as the teachers were gone.
“Choose a sleeping bag immediately and settle down,” Percy shouted. “Quickly! No more talking. Lights out in ten minutes!”
From his place, Suer saw Hermione talking anxiously to Harry. Ron had collected three sleeping bags, and the trio plainly intended to sleep together.
That would not do.
Suer took a purple sleeping bag of his own. Without caring whether Hermione was still angry with him, he slipped into the Gryffindor crowd and made straight for the three of them.
“Suer, what are you doing over here?” Ron spotted him sneaking closer and stared in surprise.
Suer rolled his eyes inwardly. Of course he had come. Hermione would be sleeping beside him and nobody else.
“Oh, I was bored all by myself over there, so I thought I’d join you. You don’t mind, do you, Harry?”
As he spoke, Suer grinned broadly at Hermione, who was staring at him.
Hermione rolled her eyes prettily, turned away and ignored him.
“I don’t mind, but what about your dormitory mates?” Harry glanced at Hermione before looking back at Suer.
“Splendid.” Suer cheerfully dragged his sleeping bag towards a corner. “How about over there?”
“You didn’t bother asking whether I minded,” Hermione muttered as Suer passed. But she did not object aloud, so he chose to regard that as agreement.
What chance did a thin-skinned boy have of ever finding a girlfriend?
Percy now stood before the staff table, loudly ordering everyone into their sleeping bags. In another moment, he announced, he would exercise his authority as Head Boy and extinguish the lights.
Four sleeping bags were arranged neatly in the corner. Hermione immediately climbed into the innermost one, and the shameless Suer claimed the place beside her.
Ron and Harry exchanged a glance. They had both been puzzled by Suer’s arrival, but soon chose their own places.
Thus, from the wall outwards, the order was Hermione, Suer, Harry and Ron.
The lights went out, plunging the Hall into darkness. Even then, pupils continued whispering about Sirius Black slashing the portrait outside Gryffindor Tower. They did not seem terribly worried about their own safety. Headmaster Dumbledore inspired more confidence than any locked door ever could.
“Could you… could you move farther away from me?” Hermione’s voice held both embarrassment and anger. “Why aren’t you with Hufflepuff? What are you doing over here?”
Her sleeping bag wriggled closer to the wall.
Suer promptly wriggled after her.
“Oh! What exactly are you trying to do?” Hermione hissed.
“I came to apologise. Honestly,” Suer whispered. “I won’t do it again. Please find it in your generous heart to forgive your humble servant.”
“You don’t sound sorry in the least,” Hermione muttered, and her bushy head disappeared into the sleeping bag.
Suer pulled one arm free and poked insistently at her through the fabric. Hermione ignored him and squirmed away from his finger. Undeterred, he followed and poked her again.
“Oh!” Hermione’s head emerged at last. Her exasperation made the cry louder than she intended.
The chatter around them stopped.
After a moment, Harry’s uncertain voice came from nearby. “What’s wrong, Hermione? Did something happen?”
“Nothing,” Hermione replied at once, her voice muffled. “I just remembered something. It doesn’t matter.”
Suer could easily imagine her face glowing red, half from anger and half from embarrassment.
There was a muffled grunt in the darkness. Suer caught the small hand that had reached over to pinch him. Apparently, girls learned that particular skill at birth.
“Let go,” Hermione whispered.
“Not unless you forgive me.” Suer drew a sharp breath at the sudden pain, but Hermione’s hand felt as pleasant to hold as ever.
The stalemate lasted for quite some time.
At last Hermione surrendered. “Let go. I forgive you!”
“Truly?” Suer’s heart leapt.
Persistence had prevailed. If one wanted to coax a girl out of her anger, a thick skin was indispensable.
Hermione answered with an indignant little huff.
“You really are shameless. Aren’t you going to let go? I want to sleep.”
“Heh. Good night.” Suer obediently released her. Hermione snatched her hand back and buried her entire head inside the sleeping bag again.
“Squeak…”
A faint noise came from Harry’s side, followed by Harry asking Ron, “Why did you bring Scabbers with you?”
“I didn’t want to leave him alone in the dormitory,” Ron replied. “He scratched Crookshanks before, and cats hold grudges. I was worried…”
So Pettigrew was here? That meant Black had come away empty-handed.
Suer closed his eyes and listened to Harry and Ron whispering nearby. Before long, however, they had moved on to Quidditch.
With the murmured conversations around him serving as a lullaby, Suer gradually drifted to sleep.