Chapter Eighteen - Mindscape

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never dream of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

Chapter Eighteen - Mindscape

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Harry found Cygnus had led him and Daphne back to Courtroom Five again. They were sitting in almost the same seats. This time there were quite a few others sitting in the visitors' gallery with them. Plus, the same two journalists from the week before.

One of those particular muckrakers came over and sat behind Harry and Daphne before he leaned forward and quietly said, "Lord Potter, I wonder if I might be able to ask you a few questions before the trial starts."

Harry gave Daphne a glance who returned an almost miniscule shrug in return.

He turned to look at the journalist and said, "Normally, I would not care to comment. However, I read your articles last week in the Daily Prophet and found them to be factual and non-compromising. For that reason I'll do my best to answer what of your questions I care to with honesty.

"However, show me you are not to be trusted in future, and you'll never receive a true quote from me again. Deal?"

The journalist thought for a moment before replying, "I am not Rita Skeeter, My Lord. I will always write the facts. Therefore, it is no bother for me to agree. Deal!"

Giving a short nod, Harry said, "In that case, Sir; ask away."

The man grabbed a notebook and quill from one of the deep pockets of his robes. Allowing the notebook and quill to hover he said, "It's a dicta-quill, My Lord. And, for your information, if you see something like this and the quill has a lime green ostrich feather, it's a quik-quotes quill. They're nasty things and write whatever nonsense the owner of it wants it to write."

"Thank you for the heads up," replied Harry.

Setting the dicta-quill going the journalist said, "Thank you for speaking with me today, My Lord."

"You're welcome."

"Is it true you were unaware of the wizarding world until your eleventh birthday?"

"I received my Hogwarts letter a few days before my eleventh birthday. Until then, that was the only item of mail I'd ever received from the wizarding world. My Hogwarts letter confirmed my belief the wizarding world actually existed. It was the next day I found Diagon Alley."

"You've never received correspondence from the wizarding world until your Hogwarts letter?"

"Correct."

"My Lord, I would have believed there would have been a great many people in the wizarding world who would have sent you owls before then."

"That may be true. I have no way of knowing otherwise. However, I've never received them. And I have no explanation as to why."

"Very well. I have it on good authority Lord Sirius Black, recently exonerated of charges relating to the events at Potter's Cottage on the 31st of October 1981, and in the township of Coventry a few days later, is in fact your sworn godfather. Is this true?"

"Your good authority is both correct and has a big mouth. Yes, Lord Black is my sworn godfather."

"Ah. It appears the trial is about to start. May I speak with you on this at another time?"

"You may."

As Harry and the journalist were winding up their short talk, Harry noticed the members of the Wizengamot who were sitting in judgement had begun to enter the room. They went directly to their seats. Again, Madam Marchbanks took the centre President's seat while Amelia took the seat on the end.

Just as she was about to bang her gavel, Sirius walked quickly into the room and bounded up the stairs to sit next to Harry.

"What'd I miss?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing yet," replied Harry. "They only entered a few moments before you did. Cutting it a bit close there, weren't you, godfather?"

Sirius turned to look at him and gave a big grin. Harry was happy to see his teeth, which based on the last time he'd been able to see him were in a horrendous state, were now fully repaired and sparkling white.

Harry also noticed that, while his godfather still appeared to be quite gaunt, was moving much more fluidly and healthily. He was clearly bouncing back to full health. His hair was trimmed and his full straggly beard was trimmed back to a small goatee.

"You're looking much better, godfather," said Harry, eyeing the man critically. "Living with the Greengrasses is doing you a lot of good."

As Harry finished talking Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel three times and called the court to order.

"Bring in the accused," she called.

A moment later, Dumbledore was escorted into the room between two aurors. He was not, however, shackled in any way as he was attending willingly.

He approached the chair but, just before sitting down, took out his wand and reconfigured it into a plush throne-like chair. Then he calmly sat down giving the appearance he was there looking out upon his subjects, rather than being sat in judgement.

Madam Marchbanks then turned to Amelia and said, "Madam Bones; the charges, if you will."

What followed was a long afternoon of Dumbledore answering questions with misdirections, half-truths and just about every other form of avoidance Harry could remember reading about. It was quite clear how the man had manage to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump all at the same time.

Harry also noticed that Amelia had made good use of the timeline he drew up as Dumbledore tried to claim that Harry's proper guardians, with the exception of the Greengrasses, were either imprisoned or were lying in Saint Mungo's.

When asked why he didn't take Harry to the Greengrasses he said he believed the risk was too high the Greengrasses were servants of Voldemort.

That was when the memory of what Dumbledore and McGonagall said to each other while Harry was in Dumbledore's arms as he was being placed on the doorstep of Privett Drive was played.

Dumbledore had to dance a number of back-pedalling steps and claimed his memory was not so clear of the event. When asked about why Harry had not received any mail from the wizarding world until his Hogwarts letter he claimed, for Harry's safety, to have put up mail owl notice-me-not wards. His excuse was because the mail could have included portkeys or the like to spirit Harry away from the safety of his aunt and uncle.

That gave Harry an idea for when he next spoke with the journalist.

There were many times during the questioning phase of the trial that Dumbledore was caught out not answering a question fully, or being otherwise disingenuous. It did him harm.

The questioning had gone on for so long that a break was called partway through for people to get something to drink or visit the toilet. Even Dumbledore's voice was becoming a bit hoarse.

In the end Dumbledore was found guilty of most of the charges. He managed to skive off being found guilty of the most serious, though; including the conspiracy and neglect charges.

However, he was found guilty of abuse of authority of his position as Chief Warlock in the remainder. When sentence was passed, Dumbledore was banned from returning to sit upon the Wizengamot in any capacity, and fined over ten thousand galleons. He was not, however, given any prison time. As an added bonus he was stripped of his position representing magical Britain on the ICW, which also meant he could no longer be Supreme Mugwump.

Furthermore, the temporary suspension of Dumbledore's claim over Harry as his magical guardian was made permanent. It was agreed Harry would be protected under the joint custody of Madam Longbottom, Madam Bones, Lord Black and Lord Greengrass. He would also not be permitted to claim loco parentis or magical guardianship upon any other minor, including students at the school.

"Damn!" muttered Harry. "That means we still have to put up with him at Hogwarts."

Harry, Amelia and Cygnus all tried to see if one of the charges against Dumbledore could be levelled against the man in his role as Headmaster. However, everything illegal the man had done he had done in his role as Chief Warlock.

Harry raised how Dumbledore used the Hogwarts infirmary and school nurse to care for Harry for the near twenty four hours between the time he was removed from Godric's Hollow until he was dumped at the Dursleys. However, he could claim to have done it as Chief Warlock, which is precisely what he did during the trial.

Dumbledore was no fool. He knew if he said he'd done it as Headmaster, then his position as Headmaster would also have been put at risk.

After the sentence was passed Dumbledore turned to Harry and Daphne and said, "Harry? Miss Greengrass? I'll escort you back to school."

"Insulting me again, Headmaster, by using my first name?" mocked Harry. "And, sorry; but, we have further business to attend ere we return to Hogwarts."

With one of his unpatented grandfatherly put-upon sighs, Dumbledore said, "Very well. I expect to see you back before not too much longer." And walked from the room.

As Dumbledore was leaving the journalist who spoke to Harry earlier quickly returned and set up his dicta-quill.

While the man was setting things up quickly with a practiced hand, Harry asked him, "As I'm doing you a favour by participating in this interview, I wonder if I can ask one of you?"

"And what would that be, My Lord," the journalist replied.

"I need you to include, as part of your article, that I had nothing to do with, nor had any idea of, the Notice-Me-Not wards for mail owls on where I was living. And that, even if I didn't receive any mail from the wizarding world, I'd still like to apologise to those within the wizarding world who sent me mail, for not thanking them for their effort.

With an appraising look, the journalist said, "I can do that. If you promise me, where possible, you'll give me exclusives."

Harry snorted in response and said, "Keep writing the truth and you've probably got yourself a deal."

Harry then answered a few more questions from the journalist, even though Sirius was giving him funny looks. However, once the journalist recognised the man sitting next to Harry was the so-called infamous Lord Sirius Black, Sirius was also asked questions, which for the most part he was happy to answer.

The interview was interrupted with the return of Cygnus. "Ready to go?"

Harry and Daphne both nodded.

Harry turned to the journalist and said, "Sorry about this. But I invite you to owl me at Hogwarts if there's something you want to ask me. As with this interview, if I'm willing to answer your questions I'll provide you with the answers. If not, I'll tell you so."

"Thank you, My Lord," replied the journalist as he was packing away his dicta-quill.

As the four of them made their way back outside Cygnus asked, "Is it wise to talk to journalists?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "By my being willing to talk to them I maintain some level of control over what they write about me. If I refuse to talk to them then they're free to write whatever they want. It was the famous author, Mark Twain, who once said, 'Never pick a fight with people who buy ink by the barrel'. I think he was right. It's far better to work with them."

"Control them from the inside, you mean? By way of exclusive interviews?" asked Cygnus with a grin.

"Yeah, pretty much," replied Harry with a shrug.

Cygnus turned to Sirius and said, "I told you he was a Slytherin hiding in Ravenclaw."

The pained look on Sirius's face made Harry laugh.

"Alright," said Sirius. "Clearly, this is Give-My-Godfather-Indigestion Day. However, we still need to meet Amelia. She has news for Harry."

Harry, wondering what was going on, followed the two Lords down the passageway and into the offices of the DMLE. Inside, both Lords approached the young lady sitting at what was clearly a secretary's desk.

"Good afternoon, Nanine," said Sirius in a pleasant silky-smooth drawl. "Is Madam Bones back from trial yet?"

"Oh, yes, Lord Black," the girl near-tittered. "Let me just check to ensure she's ready for you." And she rose and approached a door just off to the side behind her desk. She gave it two quick raps of her knuckles, listened closely, and then opened the door to duck inside.

Harry looked at Sirius as soon as the girl disappeared behind the door. "Really, Godfather? Already?"

Sirius just gave a little smirk and a slight shrug before he said, "I can't have my godson doing better than me with the ladies. It just wouldn't be proper."

A few moments later, she was back and holding the door open.

"Director Bones will see you now," she said with a coy look towards Sirius.

Again, the two Lords led the four through. They walked into Amelia's inner office.

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After finishing their short meeting with Amelia she allowed them to use her personal office fireplace to floo directly to Greengrass Estate.

Harry was one of the first, after Daphne, to collapse into one of the available sofas. "So, there is a bloody prophecy with my name on it," he grouched. "But, who the hell is TMR?"

"Alright," said Sirius. "APWBD is clearly Dumbledore; he's the one who heard the prophecy. SPT is supposed to be Sibyl Patricia Trelawney; she's the Professor of Divination at Hogwarts. HJP is Harry James Potter; so TMR has to be the other person. I'll see what I can track down and even give my Aunt Cassiopeia a call. She's in her late seventies but still has her 'little black book'. It may provide us with some information."

"Is there any way we can acquire a list of past students of Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to then go through the names to see if there's someone, or multiple someones, who have those initials."

"Good idea," said Cygnus. "I'll speak to old Professor Tofty at the Ministry. He has the records of all past and current Hogwarts students in his files. It'll be a nightmare to go through all those files, though."

"Well, I'd guess that the records would be in alphabetical order," said Harry. "Start with only going through those whose surnames begin or began with the letter 'R' first."

With a slight wince, Cygnus said, "Of course." In a tone that said he knew he should have considered that.

The initials seemed familiar to Harry. He was going through the names of all the students he knew, all the wizards and witches he had met and who had told him their names, every Daily Prophet he had read. However, it didn't come to him.

'If anyone can figure out who those initials belonged to without months slogging through records they should get a medal,' thought Harry. 'Something to rewar...'

Harry suddenly shot forward in his seat until he was sitting on the edge of it. The others saw a look of shock on his face.

"Harry?" asked Sirius. "What is it?"

"TMR," replied Harry softly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. Slytherin House. Head Boy in 1945. Earned a special award from Hogwarts for services to the school in 1943. Headmaster Dippet awarded it to him. He earned it for identifying Hagrid as the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets back then.

"A young Fourth Year Ravenclaw student by the name of Myrtle Malone was killed in the second floor girl's toilets."

"Wha?" said Sirius, obviously confused. "How do you know that?"

"I went for a wander through the castle a few days ago," explained Harry. "It was a free period and I both wanted to start to make a move on mapping the castle and burn off some energy. I walked into what I found to be the Hogwarts Trophy Room on the third floor.

"In the trophy room I found a cutting from the Daily Prophet that had an article on the story. It was in a picture frame directly above a small glass case that had the award. On another wall was a large wooden board that contained the list of names of the Head Boy and Head Girl for each year dating back to the beginning of the century. Riddle's name was there as Head Boy for 1945."

"How in Merlin's name did you remember that?" asked Sirius.

"Oh," said Harry, snapping back to the present. "I have an eidetic memory. I remember everything. I also have a full mindscape and am very skilled at Occlumency. The latter helps me keep the eidetic memory organised."

"You," stuttered Sirius. "You have a full mindscape at eleven?"

"Actually, I've had a full mindscape since I was about eight," replied Harry. "The eidetic memory allowed me to develop the mindscape, and the mindscape allows me to control the eidetic memory. Which then allowed me to improve the mindscape. Which, in turn, allows me to improve the storage of memories. It's kind of a self-perpetuating 'neuro-mutualism'. That is, each benefits the other and supports the other.

"The mind healer at Saint Mungo's said he's never seen the like on someone so young. He was the one who identified what's going on in my head as a fully formed and functional mindscape. And then helped me on my way to both rebuild it and make significant improvements on it in the case of occluding my mind from Legilimencers."

"Sirius," called Cygnus. When Sirius looked at him he said, "It was Harry's memories that were played at your trial. Harry's memories from when he was fifteen months old."

Turning back to look at Harry with a look of awe on his face, Sirius asked, "You remember everything?"

"Yep," grinned Harry. "Do you want me to give Cygnus the memory for his pensieve I have of you with my infant pacifier stuck in your mouth and you unable to remove it?"

Sirius looked at Harry with a look not unlike horror.

"Well, I, of course, didn't understand what was happening at the time," shrugged Harry. "I now know it was a burst of accidental magic."

Sirius snorted and said, "Harry was fussing. Lily was in the kitchen preparing his dinner while I was trying to keep him occupied. I kept putting his dummy in his mouth and little Lord Fauntleroy here kept taking it out and trying to give it to me.

"I didn't mind as it kept him occupied. However, Harry seemed to be getting annoyed that I wasn't sticking it in my mouth.

"Next thing I know he's holding the dummy out to me like he's trying to shove it at me, but I kept just out of his reach. He makes this grunt sound with a frown on his face and the bloody dummy leaps out of his fingers and plants itself in my gob.

Chuckling, Harry said, "The look on Sirius's face when it happened, though. Priceless."

"I then reached to pull it back out of my mouth and found I couldn't budge it," said Sirius now with a slight grin on his own face with unfocussed eyes, remembering. "The surround of the dummy was fused to my lips. I kept trying to pull it out, though. I even took out my wand and tried a Finite Charm, but it didn't work.

"I tried to call for Lily but the only sounds I could make were quite muffled. Harry was giggling away almost hysterically and that brought Lily into the room.

"She took a few seconds to work out what had happened and then she started laughing. I, on the other hand, was getting both annoyed and frantic trying to remove the - offending object."

Laughing, Harry said, "So, here was Sirius, gesticulating wildly. A well-dressed pureblood trying to stand tall and proud like a true pureblood heir, with a baby's light blue pacifier stuck firmly in his gob with a ribbon hanging from it. It was bloody hilarious!

"Even Mum thought so. She tried a couple of times to cancel the magic that caused the dummy to be stuck there, but couldn't undo whatever it was that I'd done. Trouble is, she was also laughing too hard to properly concentrate.

"After about three or four minutes she had just about lost it completely and was laughing so hard she had tears running down her cheeks, and had developed a dose of hiccups. Sirius got really annoyed and stormed out of the room."

Daphne was trying very hard not to laugh but was snorting in amusement while blushing. Cygnus, however, was roaring with laughter.

"I apparated to Saint Mungo's," said Sirius with a fond smile. "It was the most embarrassing day of my life. I did hook up with a pretty nurse, as a result, though."

"It's also one of my most treasured memories," said Harry. "After Sirius left, Dad came home and had to give Mum a Calming Draught to get any worthwhile information out of her. As soon as he could get her to tell him what happened he said he had to go and find Sirius to make sure he was alright. He also said he wanted to take 'photographic evidence of the foul crime'. Mum accused him of just wanting blackmail material.

"It wasn't long after that, I think, they bound my magic down. But I must've been asleep when they did it, because I don't remember it happening."

"It was only a few days later," sighed Sirius. "The fact it took a team of specialists to unravel the sticking charm you used to stick the pacifier in my mouth was worrying to your parents. Though they didn't like it, they knew your magical power had to be bound down a fair bit in case you caused some accidental magic that harmed someone and no one could undo it.

"That was also about a week before Potter's Cottage was attacked. Only James, Lily and myself knew about your magic being bound."

"Well, that's one probable explanation for why my magic was never unbound," replied Harry with a sigh.

"Yes, but it still should have been detected when you went in for your inoculations at Saint Mungo," said Cygnus.

"Errr..." said Harry a bit sheepishly.

"You - were never taken in for your inoculations, were you?" asked Cygnus.

"No," replied Harry. "However, I received them while I was in there after what happened at the Sorting Feast.

"Well, at least they're done," said Cygnus. "Yet another thing that old fool should have seen to as your magical guardian, and didn't."

"Anyway," said Harry flipping his hand in a throwaway gesture. "This has gotten us completely off-topic; the prophecy. What do I need to do to find out what the prophecy states?"

"You'll need to visit the Prophecy Hall in the Department of Mysteries," replied Cygnus. "There's only a few people who can touch the orb that contains a memory recording of the prophecy."

"And, who are they?" asked Harry.

"The one who gave the prophecy, the one who heard it and from whom the memory was likely taken, and those the prophecy is about. That means Sybil Trelawney, Albus Dumbledore, you and whoever TMR is," replied Sirius. "Once the prophecy orb is on the shelf not even the Unspeakables can access it - reportedly."

"But that's not to say they're not already aware of what the prophecy is or states, before the memory was placed in the orb," mused Harry. "Therefore, they'd not need to access the orb."

Sitting forward again, he said, "Still; I guess we should make arrangements for me to hear the damnable thing."

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The next morning The Seven were sitting together at breakfast when Hedwig flew in bearing Harry's copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. Unshrinking and unfolding it he saw the lead story was, of course, the sacking of Dumbledore as Chief Warlock, Britain's representative on the ICW and as Supreme Mugwump.

The story included the highlights of the trial and left little out that was of any substance. But it was plain Dumbledore's support was waning fast.

The story immediately below was the interview Harry gave the reporter, a man he now knew was named Montague 'Monty' Wordsworth. Harry wondered if he was in any way related to the famous English poet, William Wordsworth. It didn't much matter to him; the man was true to his word and wrote well.

Harry decided he would keep his promise and do his best to work with the endeavouring Mister Wordsworth in future. He felt it didn't hurt to have a journalist he could, somewhat, count upon to write the truth.

They had an uneventful day and, after classes, Harry knew he needed to get his homework out of the way. As he missed History of Magic the previous day Neville told him what the homework for it was, while Susan told Daphne what she'd missed in their combined class. The Seven were in the library working quietly on their homework, offering suggestions to the odd request for assistance amongst them.

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That night, Harry walked from the Ravenclaw tower up to the astronomy tower for their class. There, he met Daphne and Tracey. They were grateful that it was a clear night, but it was also apparent the long cold of winter was slowly creeping in. Because they were so tired, the cold also seemed to seep into their very bones.

It was a very tired cohort of First Year Ravenclaws and Slytherins that crawled into bed during the early hours of the morning.

As with the previous week, Harry didn't want to leave his lady alone at breakfast. After a hot shower with a period where he made the water bitterly cold to wake himself up, he trudged down to breakfast. He was a bit later than normal but made it, nonetheless. The others of The Seven were sitting at the Hufflepuff table.

Making his way over he plopped down onto a seat next to Daphne and almost immediately laid his head on her shoulder.

"A bit forward there, aren't we, Potter?" she asked.

"Quiet, pillow of mine, I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled in reply.

With a snort of amusement, Daphne hunched her shoulder, hard, causing Harry to snap back up straight. "I'm awake!" he blurted, blinking owlishly.

The others, except Tracey, chuckled. Tracey yawned.

As both Ravenclaw and Slytherin were free until the afternoon class of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry begged off on doing anything else but going back to bed to sleep another few hours. He thought he might receive an earful from Daphne about it, but she'd also made that decision.

When the mail arrived, Harry turned to look at the head table. He noticed almost all the professors received mail except for the Headmaster. He was sure the old man would receive quite a bit of mail about the article in the Daily Prophet, but he received none.

Thinking about it, Harry figured out the old man must have put an owl mail redirection system in place. His mail was probably all sitting on his desk.

They all met up again at lunch. The three Ravenclaws and Slytherins much more rested.

"Enjoy your nap?" asked Susan sweetly.

"Much, thank you," replied Harry, ignoring the mock-sarcasm. "I now understand why my dorm mates all choose to stay in bed and sleep instead of coming down to breakfast. I thought last week was bad, but this week was worse."

"Does anyone know if Dumbledore has found a replacement DADA Professor yet?" asked Tracey. "Or, is he still teaching the class?"

"He's still teaching the class," replied Neville. "He's also very, very good."

Harry hmmphed and said, "He'd have to be. After all, he took down Grindelwald."

Harry found DADA class under the instruction of Dumbledore was actually pretty good. He had the same class with the man the week before but, now that he had a better understanding of the quality of teaching at the school, he had to acknowledge Dumbledore was a master teacher.

Dumbledore released the class early so, with a kiss on the cheek for his betrothed and letting her know he'd meet up with her in the library, Harry hurried back to the Ravenclaw common room.

As he was walking through to the door to his dorm, he noticed a comic book sitting on one of the small tables. After picking up his astronomy text plus star charts, he walked back into the common room.

Picking up the comic book and flipping through it he noticed an advertisement on the inside back cover for a set of costumes. Looking at the cut out advertisement he looked around the room and found a Seventh Year studying in one of the study carousels that bordered the huge room.

He took the comic over to the older boy and waited until his presence was acknowledged.

"Yes?" asked the older boy.

Harry flipped open the comic to the last page and, indicating it to the older boy, asked, "Would you mind doing me a big favour and creating a permanent copy of this advertisement, please?"

The boy looked at the ad and asked suspiciously, "What are you up to?"

"A harmless prank," replied Harry in as straightforward a manner as he could.

"On a Ravenclaw?" asked the boy.

"Definitely not!" huffed Harry.

The boy stared at him for a few moments more before Harry could see he'd do it.

With a small shrug of his shoulders the boy said, "Why not."

He grabbed the comic book off Harry and a small piece of parchment and laid the two side by side. The boy had his wand in his hand and waved it over the two while muttering a short incantation. He did not notice Harry memorising both the incantation and the wand movements.

The small piece of parchment turned into a perfect replica of the entire inside of the back cover.

With a grin, Harry said, "Thank you, a lot!"

He picked up both, returned the comic book to the small coffee table, and sat down at one of the vacant carousels. Pulling out a muggle pen he'd found discarded somewhere, he filled in the appropriate places on the order form checking the boxes for the costume he wanted. He also checked the box that asked if he wanted a copy of their catalogue of other costumes.

While Harry had been living at The Leaky Cauldron he learned that the post office at Diagon Alley provided a special service. They acted as a remailing centre for mail heading out of the wizarding world into the muggle world the muggle way; and vice versa.

After creating an envelope he folded the order form and dropped it into the envelope along with enough galleons. He then addressed the envelope to be remailed the muggle way via the owl post office in Diagon Alley, along with the required fee to use the service.

Just as he was finishing and was getting ready to head for the owlery, Hedwig flew in.

"Hello, girl," said Harry.

Hedwig hooted happily at him and raised her leg.

Harry, after shrinking the small envelope due to it's weight, tied it to the owl's leg. Hedwig gave the back of his hand a bit of a loving scratch with her beak before taking to the air and flying back out again.

'Well,' thought Harry. 'That's a prank on its way to being set up.'

After Hedwig flew off, Harry quickly grabbed his book bag and hurried down to the library.

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