It wasn't until long after Scrimgeour had left the castle that Harold finally returned to his true form in a secluded fifth-floor corridor.
As expected, anyone who could rise to the rank of Auror—let alone Head of the Auror Office—was no easy opponent. Scrimgeour might not be the most likeable wizard, but his skills were undeniable. Harold had only glanced at him from a distance and had already been noticed.
If this weren't Hogwarts—and if Harold hadn't already transformed into a cat—Scrimgeour's spell would probably have been cast immediately.
Thinking of that only made Harold more determined not to register as an Animagus with the Ministry.
If he'd been registered, Scrimgeour would've identified him right away. And then what was the point of all the effort he put into mastering the transformation?
At that moment, a shrill bell rang…
Class was over.
Students streamed out of their classrooms, and the once quiet castle quickly came alive with noise and chatter.
Harold didn't return to class. Instead, he made his way early to the Great Hall.
Soon, the Gryffindor students arrived as well. From the looks on their faces, Snape's Defense Against the Dark Arts class hadn't gone well—everyone seemed furious.
Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were leading the charge, loudly complaining about Snape, and even the normally mild-mannered Neville was nodding along vigorously.
Five minutes later, Harry, Hermione, and Ron walked in. They looked even worse—especially Ron, whose face was almost the same shade as his hair.
As they entered the hall, Ron muttered something so foul that both Harry and Hermione's eyes went wide.
"Ron…" Hermione snapped. "Don't say things like that! If he hears you, you'll be in serious trouble!"
"I don't care." Ron was still fuming. "Do you know what he made me do? Clean every sink in the castle—without magic!"
He was practically shaking with rage, fists clenched tight. "Why couldn't Black be hiding in Snape's office? Or that missing Dementor, even… anyone or anything that would just get rid of him!"
The three of them sat down beside Harold.
"What happened to him?" Harold asked.
"He mouthed off to Snape and got detention," Harry said.
"Lucky you—no Snape lesson today."
"You wouldn't say that if you knew who I went to see," Harold replied, helping himself to a roast potato.
"Actually, I'm curious," Harry said. "Who was it? They must be important if Snape let you leave his class. The Headmaster?"
"Close. Rufus Scrimgeour—Head of the Auror Office," Harold said. "He wanted to ask me more about Sirius Black. First thing he did when I got there? Tried to use Legilimency on me."
"Legilimency?!" Hermione's head snapped up. "Wait, he can't do that! That spell's not supposed to be used without permission!"
"What's Legilimency?" Harry blinked.
"A spell that lets someone read your memories," Harold explained, then turned back to Hermione. "You said it yourself—it's not supposed to be used casually. The Head of the Auror Office doesn't exactly fall under 'casual.'"
"That makes it worse!" Hermione fumed. "He's supposed to follow the rules, set an example! And you haven't done anything wrong—on the contrary, you're the one who spotted and stopped Black…"
"And the professors just let it happen? There was a professor present, right?"
"Professor Dumbledore. We were in his office," Harold said. "And anyway, Scrimgeour didn't get what he wanted."
He left the rest vague, letting Hermione assume Dumbledore had intervened to block the spell—which was enough to keep her from launching into a full-blown rant.
"You've got the worst luck," Ron sighed. "You drive off Black and still end up under suspicion."
"Tell me about it," Harold said, biting into the potato.
For a moment, no one spoke. Ron was too angry, Hermione was still upset over Scrimgeour's blatant violation of magical law, and Harry…
Harry gave Harold a quiet glance.
He couldn't help but wonder—what if someone like Scrimgeour read his memories?
Would they see the cupboard under the stairs? The spider-filled attic?
Probably not the most interesting memories to anyone else. But still, if he had the choice, he'd rather no one ever knew about those parts of his life.
…
The next day came.
The storm had worsened overnight. Thunder rumbled and the rain lashed harder than before. Even by eight in the morning, the sky outside was as dark as dusk. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall hung heavy and black, almost oppressive.
The weather had also delayed the morning post.
The owls were ten minutes late flying into the castle, and they were soaked to the bone. As they flapped their wings, water scattered over everything—making it rain inside the Hall as well.
Harold quickly shielded his sandwich and grabbed a soggy copy of The Daily Prophet from the table.
He unfolded it. The front page featured a photo of a wild-haired wizard standing before a massive, torn portrait. His gaunt, twisted face and the gashes across the canvas were enough to give anyone chills.
"Sirius Black Appears at Hogwarts — Revenge, or Sinister Plot?"
Below the bold, black headline was a long article.
Harold skimmed through it. Most of it recounted the dark history between the Dark Lord and the Boy Who Lived.
The article's author seemed convinced that Black had come to Hogwarts to avenge his fallen master.
There was another article beside it, also on the front page:
"Escaped from Azkaban, Infiltrated Hogwarts — What Good Are Dementors? Have They Joined Black?"
This one focused on the Dementors, criticizing them for negligence in the strongest possible terms. It ended by blaming the Ministry for doing nothing and relying solely on the Dementors instead of pursuing Sirius Black themselves.
Harold blinked in surprise. An article like that—on the front page?
Even if it was printed at the bottom, it was still front-page material—something even Gilderoy Lockhart had dreamed of landing.
Clearly, The Daily Prophet hadn't yet become a complete mouthpiece for the Ministry. There was still some substance in its pages.
Harold set the paper down—only for it to be immediately picked up by Harry.
"Just borrowing it for a second."
"Go ahead."
Harry had been drawn in by the photo. As he stared at Sirius Black's terrifying face, he remembered what he'd overheard the Weasleys saying back at the Leaky Cauldron:
"Black kept muttering in his sleep, tossing and turning, always saying the same thing: 'He's at Hogwarts… he's at Hogwarts…'"
"We thought Azkaban was impenetrable, but if Black could escape, it makes sense he could get into Hogwarts too."
"He's after Harry. He thinks that if he kills him, he can bring the Dark Lord back."
…
Mr. Weasley had been right—Black really had come to Hogwarts for him.
Harold might have stopped him this time, keeping him from reaching the Gryffindor common room—but what about next time? Would someone else be able to stop him?
Strangely, Harry no longer felt so opposed to the idea of Dementors in the castle.
Maybe… maybe if they were here, they could help find Black's hiding place.
…
(End of Chapter)