Harry Potter 04 - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

for what they are. Sirius … if you could resume your usual form.’
    The great black dog looked up at Dumbledore, then, in an instant, turned back into a man.
    Mrs Weasley screamed and leapt back from the bed.
    ‘Sirius Black!’ she shrieked, pointing at him.
    ‘Mum, shut up!’ Ron yelled. ‘It’s OK!’
    Snape had not yelled or jumped backwards, but the look on his face was one of mingled fury and horror.
    ‘Him!’ he snarled, staring at Sirius, whose face showed equal dislike. ‘What is he doing here?’
    ‘He is here at my invitation,’ said Dumbledore, looking between them, ‘as are you, Severus. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences, and trust each other.’
    Harry thought Dumbledore was asking for a near miracle. Sirius and Snape were eyeing each other with the utmost loathing.
    ‘I will settle, in the short term,’ said Dumbledore, with a bite of impatience in his voice, ‘for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us.’
    Very slowly – but still glaring at each other as though each wished the other nothing but ill – Sirius and Snape moved towards each other, and shook hands. They let go extremely quickly.
    ‘That will do to be going on with,’ said Dumbledore, stepping between them once more. ‘Now I have work for each of you. Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, I need you to set off at once. You are to alert Remus Lupin, Arabella Figg, Mundungus Fletcher– the old crowd. Lie low at Lupin’s for a while, I will contact you there.’
    ‘But –’ said Harry.
    He wanted Sirius to stay. He did not want to say goodbye again so quickly.
    ‘You’ll see me very soon, Harry,’ said Sirius, turning to him. ‘I promise you. But I must do what I can, you understand, don’t you?’
    ‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘Yeah … of course I do.’
    Sirius grasped his hand briefly, nodded to Dumbledore, transformed again into the black dog, and ran the length of the room to the door, whose handle he turned with a paw. Then he was gone.
    ‘Severus,’ said Dumbledore, turning to Snape, ‘you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready … if you are prepared …’
    ‘I am,’ said Snape.
    He looked slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittered strangely.
    ‘Then, good luck,’ said Dumbledore, and he watched, with a trace of apprehension on his face, as Snape swept wordlessly after Sirius.
    It was several minutes before Dumbledore spoke again.
    ‘I must go downstairs,’ he said finally. ‘I must see the Diggorys. Harry – take the rest of your potion. I will see all of you later.’
    Harry slumped back against his pillows as Dumbledore disappeared. Hermione, Ron and Mrs Weasley were all looking at him. None of them spoke for a very long time.
    ‘You’ve got to take the rest of your potion, Harry,’ Mrs Weasley said at last. Her hand nudged the sack of gold on his bedside cabinet as she reached for the bottle and the goblet. ‘You have a good long sleep. Try and think about something else for a while … think about what you’re going to buy with your winnings!’
    ‘I don’t want that gold,’ said Harry in an expressionless voice. ‘You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn’t have won it. It should’ve been Cedric’s.’
    The thing against which he had been fighting on and off ever since he had come out of the maze was threatening to overpower him. He could feel a burning, prickling feeling in the inner corners of his eyes. He blinked and stared up at the ceiling.
    ‘It wasn’t your fault, Harry,’ Mrs Weasley whispered.
    ‘I told him to take the Cup with me,’ said Harry.
    Now the burning feeling was in his throat, too. He wished Ron would look away.
    Mrs Weasley set the potion down on the bedside cabinet, bent down, and put her arms around Harry. He had no memory of ever being hugged like this, as though by a mother. The full weight of everything he had seen that night seemed to fall in upon him as Mrs Weasley held him to her. His mother’s face, his father’s voice, the sight of Cedric, dead on the ground, all started spinning in his head until he could hardly bear it, until he was screwing up his face against the howl of misery fighting to get out of him.
    There was a loud slamming noise, and Mrs Weasley and Harry broke apart. Hermione was