"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

 "Yes," said Harry defiantly. "For... for some things..."

 He would have liked to have told Lupin about the conversation he'd overheard about Black in the Three Broomsticks, about Black betraying his mother and father, but it would have involved revealing that he'd gone to Hogsmeade without permission, and he knew Lupin wouldn't be very impressed by that. So he finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left the History of Magic classroom all the way Amelia telling him about dementors. 

"It is said the first dementor was the son of the devil cast of the hell to wreak havoc and ruin upon the world. Floating around war zones and sick houses in the dark ages, bring about fear and death. Sucking the souls out of anyone they came across. It is said that if the body of a demeanor vitume is not burned they will rise from their grave taking on the form of a demeanor doomed to forever haunt the earth and speed fear. I have a book about it back in my room. I can get it for you. Are you even listening?"

"Yeah, I am,"

Amelia's stomach lurch. "Lier," she grumbled.

Harry half wished that he hadn't asked what was under a dementor's hood, the answer had been so horrible, and he was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have your soul sucked out of you that he walked headlong into Professor McGonagall halfway up the stairs. 

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!" 

"Sorry, Professor --" 

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room, Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all. You've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter...." 

Harry's jaw dropped. She was holding out his Firebolt, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

"I can have it back?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?" 

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Potter -- do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year. in a row, as Professor Snape was kind enough to remind me only last night...." 

Speechless, Harry carried the Firebolt back upstairs toward Gryffindor Tower. Amelia running after. As he turned a corner, he saw Ron dashing toward him, grinning from ear to ear.