Chapter 172 — Three Animals

Ginny arrived while I was reading Cedric’s first page. She held a letter and looked as though she had been searching every place Ron normally sat before considering where he might actually be.

‘Charlie wrote to you,’ she told him. ‘It arrived after you left.’ Ron took the envelope and asked whether it came from Romania, earning a look from his sister. ‘Unless he’s moved the dragons somewhere more convenient.’

I shifted the books and invited her to have lunch. She settled near Harry, accepted a sandwich and asked Neville about his jars. Luna rescued a corner of the cloth from the breeze while Ron began reading with his usual casual interest in news from his brothers.

Then his eyes stopped moving. He read another line, looked towards me and held out the letter.

‘Charlie says to pass this on,’ he said. I put Cedric’s notes back in their packet before taking it.

There were greetings at the top and a complaint about the handwriting in Ron’s last letter. Below them Charlie explained that he had read the report about the Tournament. Ministry officials had visited the reserve to discuss three dragons and the arrangements for transporting them to Hogwarts.

I don’t know exactly what they intend to ask you to do, he had written. Don’t assume you have to fight one.

I read that twice. The paragraphs beneath it described distances, behaviour and how much further a tail could reach than a beginner expected. Charlie distinguished an animal looking at you from one allowing you room to move, then supplied notes about the dragons under consideration. None sounded small.

‘Dragons?’ Harry asked. I confirmed that there were three, and Neville stopped turning his sample jar. Hermione reached towards the letter, paused to ask permission and waited for Ron’s nod before I handed it over.

For a while only the paper moved in our part of the bank. Luna said the judges could hardly expect me to duel a dragon, which was a conclusion I very much wanted supported by more than our hopes.

‘Several handlers to bring one under control,’ Hermione read. Ron nodded, reminding us that Charlie had described it before. A spell shouted at the creature did not guarantee it would politely lie down.

‘I remember one of his scars,’ Ginny said. She put down the sandwich she had been holding. ‘The dragon hadn’t even been aiming at him.’

I looked across the lake. The unidentified ripple had become a much smaller problem than it had seemed earlier.

‘We don’t know the task,’ I said. ‘They’re bringing dragons here, but that doesn’t tell us what the judges want us to do.’

‘You’ll have to get close enough to do whatever it is,’ Harry pointed out. I took out my notebook while Hermione turned back to the paragraph about distances.

‘Then I’d like to know where not to stand.’ I set the notebook against my knee and began with that question. By the time we packed, I had enough to occupy the rest of the weekend.

Neville secured his samples and Ginny helped fold the cloth. Luna took the food bag when I tried to carry it along with Cedric’s books, suggesting that two journeys might be easier. I told her that would spoil the demonstration, just as the paper bag slipped.

‘Of excellent judgement,’ I explained after catching it against my chest. She laughed and took the notebook too.

Ron kept Charlie’s original letter. With his permission I copied the practical information that evening and wrote a separate thank-you for him to include in his reply. Cedric’s books went into my trunk with his copied notes beside them; forgetting where a loan had come from was not a legitimate method of expanding my collection.

On Monday I returned the restricted compendium to Pince. I had finished my first reading and recorded my own questions, and she inspected the cover and pages before striking the loan from her ledger. I left without the book, still thinking about its fire. So far, thinking had supplied no reason to release it.

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Over the following days we compared Charlie’s notes with library accounts and Cedric’s references. Older descriptions often treated killing as the natural conclusion of meeting a dragon. People who worked around living ones wrote more about distance, barriers and keeping a route out. I began with those.

Knowing a weak point was useful only if I could reach it. A spell effective in the hands of six trained adults did not become a plan for one fourteen-year-old simply because I wrote it down. I wanted to win, and learning more made surviving long enough to do so seem a less forgiving problem.

The following Saturday, more than a week after Hedwig returned, Harry and I went to the Owlery in case an unfamiliar bird had brought an answer. Hedwig greeted him from her perch with the composure of somebody whose part had been completed. I looked for a patch of floor worth standing on.

Wind came through the unglazed openings, carrying feathers and a smell which greatly improved my opinion of the air outside. I suggested waiting on the steps, though Harry pointed out that I had only just arrived.

‘I’ve had a thorough impression,’ I told him. He said goodbye to Hedwig and joined me beside the parapet.

For a while we watched the grounds without speaking. From that height we could see a great deal of Hogwarts without spotting anybody who might have written my name. Harry ran his thumb along the stone before asking a question he had evidently been holding for some time.

‘Do you think this is because of me?’ he asked. I turned towards him as he looked down at his hand.

‘The walk up the stairs? Definitely.’ He gave me a brief smile and said I knew what he meant. ‘Tell me anyway.’

‘Voldemort’s been after me since I was a baby.’ His eyes moved towards the castle. ‘That man attacked us at the World Cup, and now somebody’s put you in the Tournament. They might have meant to get me.’

I reminded him that we thought the events might be connected. My name had also been written clearly; explaining it as someone reaching for the wrong envelope would not tell us what had happened.

‘That doesn’t make it better,’ Harry said. His shoulders dropped a little as he leaned against the stone.

‘No. You still don’t owe an apology for somebody else’s handwriting.’ I rested my elbows on the parapet. ‘Voldemort giving you more attention than you want doesn’t make every other thing your fault.’

He huffed a laugh and objected to calling it attention. When I asked what he preferred, he suggested a word Hermione would dislike, then returned to the question neither of us had solved.

‘Why you?’ he asked. ‘You must have some ideas.’

‘Several. It could be aimed at me, or use me to reach you or somebody else. The Tournament and attack could have different people behind them.’ I watched a bird pass below the tower. ‘Or the same people. I haven’t left myself much chance of being wrong.’

‘Or useful,’ Harry said. He smiled briefly when I agreed that this was the difficulty.

My parents had opposed Voldemort. It gave me a place in a history I still did not fully understand, without telling me what anybody wanted now. Harry watched the sky while I thought about the notes they had left at home.

‘I don’t want you hurt because you’re my friend,’ he said at last. I turned towards him rather than answering while looking at the grounds.

‘I don’t want you spending your time apologising for being mine.’ He looked back, and I let the words remain between us without making them into a joke.

A grey owl flew over the parapet and landed nearby with an envelope in its beak. Harry approached slowly and held out his hand, waiting until it offered him the letter. There was no name on the front.

I told him to be careful. He examined the fold, turned the envelope over and opened it, then recognised the handwriting. A sentence near the top referred to Sirius’s earlier note about Buckbeak and the difficulty of getting onto a hippogriff with an uncooperative leg.

‘He says the bird’s easier to live with than some people he could name,’ Harry said. I called that promising, and he read further before frowning. ‘He wants to talk. One in the morning, Sunday. In the common room.’

I briefly imagined Sirius trying to enter the castle. Harry checked when I asked whether he had actually proposed walking in, then shook his head. The letter only required us to make sure the room was empty.

‘We’ll find out how,’ I said. Harry repeated that it meant Saturday night after midnight, and I agreed. ‘Let’s avoid missing him by a whole day.’

Harry folded the letter and stroked the owl before it flew away. That afternoon, in the Room of Requirement, he let Ron and Hermione read it while Luna listened beside me. Ron recommended staying awake because none of us would get up again if we went to bed.

Hermione disputed that account of our abilities. Ron conceded that some people could get up, though not happily, and Luna turned towards me.

‘Will you tell me what he says?’ she asked. I promised an account the next day, and she added, ‘After you’ve slept.’

I suggested breakfast might come into it too. She approved of doing those things in that order and squeezed my hand beneath the table while Harry put away the letter. For once, the next question had a time attached to it.