Hermione opened the paper and disappeared behind it.

Harry devoted himself to another helping of eggs and bacon. Ron was staring up at the high windows, looking slightly preoccupied.

‘Wait a moment,’ said Hermione suddenly. ‘Oh no ... Sirius!’

‘What's happened?’ said Harry, snatching at the paper so violently it ripped down the middle, with him and Hermione each holding one half.

’ “The Ministry of Magic has received a tip-off from a reliable source that Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer ... blah blah blah ...is currently hiding in London!”‘Hermione read from her half in an anguished whisper.

‘Lucius Malfoy, I'll bet anything,’ said Harry in a low, furious voice. ‘He did recognise Sirius on the platform ...’

‘What?’ said Ron, looking alarmed. ‘You didn't say—’

‘Shh!’ said the other two.

‘... “Ministry warns wizarding community that Black is very dangerous ... killed thirteen people ... broke out of Azkaban ...” the usual rubbish,’ Hermione concluded, laying down her half of the paper and looking fearfully at Harry

and Ron. ‘Well, he just won't be able to leave the house again, that's all,’ she whispered. ‘Dumbledore did warn him not to.’

Harry looked down glumly at the bit of the Prophet he had torn off. Most of the page was devoted to an advertisement for Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, which was apparently having a sale.

‘Hey!’ he said, flattening it down so Hermione and Ron could see it. ‘Look at this!’

‘I've got all the robes I want,’ said Ron.

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘Look ... this little piece here ...’

Ron and Hermione bent closer to read it; the item was barely an inch long and placed right at the bottom of a column. It was headlined:

TRESPASS AT MINISTRY



Sturgis Podmore, 38, of number two, Laburnum Gardens, Clapham, has appeared in front of the Wizcngamot charged with trespass and attempted robbery at the Ministry of Magic on 31st August. Podmore was arrested by

Ministry of Magic watchwizard Eric Munch, who found him attempting to force his way through a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning. Podmore, who refused to speak, in his own defence, was convicted on both

charges and sentenced to six months in Azkaban.



‘Sturgis Podmore?’ said Ron slowly. ‘He's that bloke who looks like his head's been thatched, isn't he? He's one of the Ord—

‘Ron, shh!’ said Hermione, casting a terrified look around them.

‘Six months in Azkaban!’ whispered Harry, shocked. ‘Just for trying to get through a door!’

‘Don't be silly, it wasn't just for trying to get through a door. What on earth was he doing at the Ministry of Magic at one o'clock in the morning?’ breathed Hermione.

D'you reckon he was doing something for the Order?’ Ron muttered.

‘Wait a moment ...’ said Harry slowly. ‘Sturgis was supposed to come and see us off, remember?’

The other two looked at him.

‘Yeah, he was supposed to be part of our guard going to King's Cross, remember? And Moody was all annoyed because he didn't turn up; so he couldn't have been on a job for them, could he?’

‘Well, maybe they didn't expect him to get caught,’ said Hermione.

‘It could be a frame-up!’ Ron exclaimed excitedly. ‘No—listen!’ he went on, dropping his voice dramatically at the threatening look on Hermione's face. ‘The Ministry suspects he's one of Dumbledore's lot so—I dunno—they

lured him to the Ministry, and he wasn't trying to get through a door at all! Maybe they've just made something up to get him!’

There was a pause while Harry and Hermione considered this. Harry thought it seemed far-fetched. Hermione, on the other hand, looked rather impressed.

‘Do you know, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that were true.’

She folded up her half of the newspaper thoughtfully. As Harry laid down his knife and fork, she seemed to come out of a reverie.

‘Right, well, I think we should tackle that essay for Sprout on self-fertilising shrubs first and if we're lucky we'll be able to start McGonagall's Inanimatus Conjurus Spell before lunch ...’

Harry felt a small twinge of guilt at the thought of the pile of homework awaiting him upstairs, but the sky was a clear, exhilarating blue, and he had not been on his Firebolt for a week ...

‘I mean, we can do it tonight,’ said Ron, as he and Harry walked down the sloping lawns towards the Quidditch pitch, their broomsticks over their shoulders, and with Hermione's dire warnings that they would fail all their OWLs

still ringing in their ears. ‘And we've got tomorrow. She gets too worked up about work, that's her trouble ...’ There was a pause and he added, in a slightly more anxious tone, ‘D'you think she meant it when she said we

weren't copying from her?’

‘Yeah, I do,’ said Harry. ‘Still, this is important, too, we've got to practise if we want to stay on the Quidditch team ...’

‘Yeah, that's right,’ said Ron, in a heartened tone. ‘And we have got plenty of time to do it all ...’