A pair of feet was coming down the staircase. Harry and I leapt behindan enormous crate and waited for the footsteps to pass. We heardthe man shifting boxes against the opposite wall. We might not getanother chance — 

Quickly and silently, Harry and I dodged out from our hiding placeand climbed the stairs; looking back, we saw an enormous backsideand shiny bald head, buried in a box. 

Harry  and I reached the door at thetop of the stairs, slipped through it, and found ourselves behind thecounter of Honeydukes — we ducked, crept sideways, and thenstraightened up. 

Honeydukes was so crowded with Hogwarts students that noone looked twice at Harry or me. We edged among them, lookingaround, and suppressed a laugh as we imagined the look that wouldspread over Dudley's piggy face if he could see where Harry and I were now. 

There were shelves upon shelves of the most succulent-lookingsweets imaginable. Creamy chunks of nougat, shimmering pinksquares of coconut ice, fat, honey-colored toffees; hundreds of different kinds of chocolate in neat rows; there was a large barrel ofEvery Flavor Beans, and another of Fizzing Whizbees, the levitating sherbert balls that Ron had mentioned; along yet anotherwall were "Special Effects" sweets: Drooble's Best Blowing Gum(which filled a room with bluebell-colored bubbles that refused topop for days), the strange, splintery Toothflossing Stringmints, tinyblack Pepper Imps ("breathe fire for your friends!"), Ice Mice("hear your teeth chatter and squeak!"), peppermint creams shapedlike toads ("hop realistically in the stomach!"), fragile sugar-spunquills, and exploding bonbons.

 Harry and I squeezed ourselves through a crowd of sixth years and sawa sign hanging in the farthest corner of the shop (Unusual Tastes).Ron and Hermione were standing underneath it, examining a trayof blood-flavored lollipops. Harry and I sneaked up behind them. 

"Ugh, no, Harry or Emma won't want one of those, they're for vampires, Iexpect," Hermione was saying. 

"How about these?" said Ron, shoving a jar of Cockroach Clusters under Hermione's nose. 

"Definitely not," said Harry.

 Ron nearly dropped the jar. I laughed.

Harry!Emma" squealed Hermione. "What are you doing here?How — how did you — ?" 

"Wow!" said Ron, looking very impressed, "you've learned toApparate!"

 " 'Course we haven't," said Harry.

 He dropped his voice so thatnone of the sixth years could hear him and told them all about theMarauder's Map. 

"How come Fred and George never gave it to me!" said Ron,outraged. "I'm their brother!"

 "But Emma isn't going to keep it!" said Hermione, as thoughthe idea were ludicrous. "She's going to hand it in to ProfessorMcGonagall, aren't you, Emma?"

 "No, I'm not!" I scoffed. 

"Are you mad?" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "Hand insomething that good?" 

"If I hand it in, I'll have to say where I got it! Filch would knowFred and George had nicked it!" 

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could beusing one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! Theteachers have got to know!"

 "He can't be getting in through a passage," I said quickly."There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and Georgereckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the otherthree — one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. Oneof them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, soyou can't get out of it. And the one I just came through — well —it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar, so unlesshe knew it was there . . ." 

Ron, however, cleared his throat significantly, and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door. 

— by order of — 

THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

 Customers are reminded that until further notice, dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeadeevery night after sundown. This measure has been putin place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and willbe lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping wellbefore nightfall.Merry Christmas! 

"See?" said Ron quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break intoHoneydukes with dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in,wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"

 "Yes, but — but —" Hermoine seemed to be struggling to findanother problem. "Look, Harry  and Emma still shouldn't be coming intoHogsmeade. they haven't got a signed form! If anyone finds out, they'llbe in so much trouble! And it's not nightfall yet — what if SiriusBlack turns up today? Now?" 

"He'd have a job spotting Harry and Emma in this," said Ron, noddingthrough the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow."Come on, Hermione, it's Christmas. Harry and Emma deserve a break."Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried. 

"Are you going to report us?" I asked her, grinning. 

"Oh — of course not — but honestly, Emma —" 

"Are you going to tell the Slytherins?" Ron interrupted.

"I'm going to tell Zoe" I sighed "Not Draco, or Nicholas. Since, someone--" Harry rolled his eyes "--doesn't trust them."

"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" said Ron, grabbing himand leading him over to their barrel. "And the Jelly Slugs? And theAcid Pops? Fred gave me one of those when I was seven — it burnta hole right through my tongue. I remember Mum walloping himwith her broomstick." Ron stared broodingly into the Acid Popbox. "Reckon Fred'd take a bit of Cockroach Cluster if I told himthey were peanuts?" Hermione rolled her eyes, and I laughed.

When Ron and Hermione had paid for all their sweets, the four of us left Honeydukes for the blizzard outside.Hogsmeade looked like a Christmas card; the little thatched cottages and shops were all covered in a layer of crisp snow; there wereholly wreaths on the doors and strings of enchanted candles hanging in the trees.Harry shivered; unlike the other two, he didn't have his cloak. 

We headed up the street, heads bowed against the wind, Ron andHermione shouting through their scarves.

 "That's the post office —" 

"Zonko's is up there —" 

"We could go up to the Shrieking Shack —"

 "Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go fora butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks?"

I was more than willing; the wind was fierce and my  handswere freezing, so we crossed the road, and in a few minutes wereentering the tiny inn.It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. A curvy sortof woman with a pretty face was serving a bunch of rowdy warlocksup at the bar. 

"That's Madam Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shallI?" he added, going slightly red. 

Harry, me and Hermione made our way to the back of the room,where there was a small, vacant table between the window and ahandsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. 

Roncame back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards ofhot butterbeer."Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

 I drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing I'd evertasted and seemed to heat every bit of me from the inside.A sudden breeze ruffled my hair. The door of the Three Broomsticks had opened again. I looked over the rim of my tankardand choked.Professors McGonagall and Flitwick had just entered the pubwith a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who wasdeep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hatand a pinstriped cloak — Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. 

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed hands on thetop of Harry and my heada and forced us off our stools and under the table.Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutchedhis empty tankard, [I managed to be safe] and we watched the teachers' and 

Fudge's feet movetoward the bar, pause, then turn and walk right toward him.Somewhere above us, Hermione whispered, "Mobiliarbus!"The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off theground, drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right infront of their table, hiding us from view. 

Staring through thedense lower branches, Harry and I saw four sets of chair legs move backfrom the table right beside theirs, then heard the grunts and sighsof the teachers and minister as they sat down.Next we saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise highheels, and heard a woman's voice. 

"A small gillywater —" 

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

 "Four pints of mulled mead —" 

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid. 

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella —"

 "Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips. 

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

 "Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely tosee you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come andjoin us. . . ."

 "Well, thank you very much, Minister." 

Harry and I watched the glittering heels march away and back again. my heart was pounding uncomfortably in my throat. Why hadn't itoccurred to us that this was the last weekend of term for the teachers too? And how long were they going to sit there?

 We needed timeto sneak back into Honeydukes if we wanted to return to schooltonight. . . . 

Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to me.

 "So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" cameMadam Rosmerta's voice. 

I saw the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist in his chairas though he were checking for eavesdroppers. Then he said in aquiet voice, "What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay youheard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

 "I did hear a rumor," admitted Madam Rosmerta. 

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperatedly. 

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whisperedMadam Rosmerta. 

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly. 

"You know that the dementors have searched the whole villagetwice?" said Madam Rosmerta, a slight edge to her voice. "Scaredall my customers away. . . . It's very bad for business, Minister." 

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," saidFudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution . . . unfortunate, butthere you are. . . . I've just met some of them. They're in a fury againstDumbledore — he won't let them inside the castle grounds." 

"I should think not," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "Howare we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"

 "Hear, hear!" squeaked tiny Professor Flitwick, whose feet weredangling a foot from the ground.

 "All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you allfrom something much worse. . . . We all know what Black's capable of. . . ."

 "Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said MadamRosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the DarkSide, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought . . . I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me thenwhat he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too muchmead."

 "You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly."The worst he did isn't widely known." 

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

 "I certainly do," said Fudge

."I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

 "You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGonagall. "Do you remember who his bestfriend was?" 

"Naturally," said Madam Rosmerta, with a small laugh. "Neversaw one without the other, did you? The number of times I hadthem in here — ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

 Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him. My heart pounding a minute ago, went still. I forgot how to breathe. I wondered, breifly if I was dead. Harry's hand found mine, and I snapped back.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such apair of troublemakers —"

 "I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasley couldgive 'em a run fer their money." 

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed inProfessor Flitwick. "Inseparable!"

 "Of course they were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyondall his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Blackwas best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry and Emma. they have no idea, of course. You can imagine howthe idea would torment them." 

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Madam Rosmerta. 

"Worse even than that, m'dear. . . ." Fudge dropped his voice andproceeded in a sort of low rumble. "Not many people are aware thatthe Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore,who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had anumber of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alertedJames and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."

 "How does that work?" said Madam Rosmerta, breathless withinterest. 

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat."An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving themagical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper,and is henceforth impossible to find — unless, of course, theSecret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeperrefused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village whereLily and James were staying for years and never find them, not evenif he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!" 

"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered MadamRosmerta. 

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James Potter toldDumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were,that Black was planning to go into hiding himself . . . and yet,Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be thePotters' Secret-Keeper himself." 

"He suspected Black?" gasped Madam Rosmerta.

 "He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," said ProfessorMcGonagall darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time thatsomeone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who." 

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?" 

"He did," said Fudge heavily. "And then, barely a week after theFidelius Charm had been performed---"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Madam Rosmerta. 

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he wasready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and heseems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death.But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in littleHarry and Emma Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And thisleft Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen atthe very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as atraitor. He had no choice but to run for it —"

 "Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half thebar went quiet. 

"Shh!" said Professor McGonagall. 

"I met him!" growled Hagrid. "I musta bin the last ter see himbefore he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry an' Emma fromLily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got them outta theruins, poor little things, with a great slash across their foreheads, an' their parents dead . . . an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbikehe used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. Ididn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'djus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter seewhat he could do. White an' shakin', he was. An' yeh know what Idid? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagridroared.

 "Hagrid, please!" said Professor McGonagall. "Keep your voicedown!"

 "How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It wasYou-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry an'Emma terme, Hagrid, I'm their godfather, I'll look after them —' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledoresaid Harry an'E mma was ter go ter their aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but inthe end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harrythere. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says."I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. Heloved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Whywouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace.Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knewhe was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a mattero' hours before the Ministry was after him.

 "But what if I'd given Harry an'Emma  to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched them off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son an' daughter! But when awizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one thatmatters to 'em anymore. . . ."

 A long silence followed Hagrid's story. Then Madam Rosmertasaid with some satisfaction, "But he didn't manage to disappear,did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him next day!" 

"Alas, if only we had," said Fudge bitterly. "It was not we whofound him. It was little Peter Pettigrew — another of the Potters'friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black hadbeen the Potters' Secret-Keeper, he went after Black himself." 

"Pettigrew . . . that fat little boy who was always tagging aroundafter them at Hogwarts?" said Madam Rosmerta. 

"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rathersharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret thatnow. . . ." She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold. 

"There, now, Minerva," said Fudge kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses — Muggles, of course, we wiped theirmemories later — told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They sayhe was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And thenhe went for his wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. BlewPettigrew to smithereens. . . ." 

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, "Stupidboy . . . foolish boy . . . he was always hopeless at dueling . . . shouldhave left it to the Ministry. . . ." 

"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, Iwouldn't've messed around with wands — I'd've ripped himlimb — from — limb," Hagrid growled.

 "You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudgesharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical LawEnforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black oncehe was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophes at the time, and I was one of the first on the sceneafter Black murdered all those people. I — I will never forget it. Istill dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street,so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what wasleft of Pettigrew in front of him . . . a heap of bloodstained robesand a few — a few fragments —" 

Fudge's voice stopped abruptly. There was the sound of fivenoses being blown. 

"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," said Fudge thickly. "Blackwas taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received the Order of Merlin, FirstClass, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black'sbeen in Azkaban ever since."

Madam Rosmerta let out a long sigh. 

"Is it true he's mad, Minister?"

 "I wish I could say that he was," said Fudge slowly. "I certainlybelieve his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder ofPettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered anddesperate man — cruel . . . pointless. Yet I met Black on my lastinspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in theresit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense inthem . . . but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. Hespoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thoughthe was merely bored — asked if I'd finished with my newspaper,cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I wasastounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be havingon him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place,you know. Dementors outside his door day and night." 

"But what do you think he's broken out to do?" said MadamRosmerta. "Good gracious, Minister, he isn't trying to rejoin YouKnow-Who, is he?" 

"I daresay that is his — er — eventual plan," said Fudge evasively. "But we hope to catch Black long before that. I must say,You-Know-Who alone and friendless is one thing . . . but give himback his most devoted servant, and I shudder to think how quicklyhe'll rise again. . . ." 

There was a small chink of glass on wood. Someone had setdown their glass."You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster,we'd better head back up to the castle," said Professor McGonagall.One by one, the pairs of feet in front of Harry and me took the weight oftheir owners once more; hems of cloaks swung into sight, and Madam Rosemerta's glittering heels disappeared behind the bar. 

The door of the Three Broomsticks opened again, there was another flurry of snow, and the teachers had disappeared. 

"Harry?"

"Emma?"

 Ron's and Hermione's faces appeared under the table. They wereboth staring at us, lost for words.