Harry Potter 05 - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

they were taking turns to demonstrate to a cheering and whooping crowd.
    First, Fred would take a bite out of the orange end of a chew, at which he would vomit spectacularly into a bucket they had placed in front of them. Then he would force down the purple end of the chew, at which the vomiting would immediately cease. Lee Jordan, who was assisting the demonstration, was lazily Vanishing the vomit at regular intervals with the same Vanishing Spell Snape kept using on Harry’s potions.
    What with the regular sounds of retching, cheering and the sound of Fred and George taking advance orders from the crowd, Harry was finding it exceptionally difficult to focus on the correct method for Strengthening Solution. Hermione was not helping matters; the cheers and the sound of vomit hitting the bottom of Fred and George’s bucket were punctuated by her loud and disapproving sniffs, which Harry found, if anything, more distracting.
    ‘Just go and stop them, then!’ he said irritably, after crossing out the wrong weight of powdered griffin claw for the fourth time.
    ‘I can’t, they’re not technically doing anything wrong,’ said Hermione through gritted teeth. ‘They’re quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves and I can’t find a rule that says the other idiots aren’t entitled to buy them, not unless they’re proven to be dangerous in some way and it doesn’t look as though they are.’
    She, Harry and Ron watched George projectile-vomit into the bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew and straighten up, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause.
    ‘You know, I don’t get why Fred and George only got three O.W.L.s each,’ said Harry, watching as Fred, George and Lee collected gold from the eager crowd. ‘They really know their stuff.’
    ‘Oh, they only know flashy stuff that’s of no real use to anyone,’ said Hermione disparagingly.
    ‘No real use?’ said Ron in a strained voice. ‘Hermione, they’ve made about twenty-six Galleons already.’
    It was a long while before the crowd around the Weasley twins dispersed, then Fred, Lee and George sat up counting their takings even longer, so it was well past midnight when Harry, Ron and Hermione finally had the common room to themselves. At long last, Fred had closed the doorway to the boys’ dormitories behind him, rattling his box of Galleons ostentatiously so that Hermione scowled. Harry, who was making very little progress with his Potions essay, decided to give it up for the night. As he put his books away, Ron, who was dozing lightly in an armchair, gave a muffled grunt, awoke, and looked blearily into the fire.
    ‘Sirius!’ he said.
    Harry whipped round. Sirius’s untidy dark head was sitting in the fire again.
    ‘Hi,’ he said, grinning.
    ‘Hi,’ chorused Harry, Ron and Hermione, all three kneeling down on the hearthrug. Crookshanks purred loudly and approached the fire, trying, despite the heat, to put his face close to Sirius’s.
    ‘How’re things?’ said Sirius.
    ‘Not that good,’ said Harry, as Hermione pulled Crookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers. ‘The Ministry’s forced through another decree, which means we’re not allowed to have Quidditch teams –’
    ‘Or secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups?’ said Sirius.
    There was a short pause.
    ‘How did you know about that?’ Harry demanded.
    ‘You want to choose your meeting places more carefully,’ said Sirius, grinning still more broadly. ‘The Hog’s Head, I ask you.’
    ‘Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!’ said Hermione defensively. ‘That’s always packed with people –’
    ‘Which means you’d have been harder to overhear,’ said Sirius. ‘You’ve got a lot to learn, Hermione.’
    ‘Who overheard us?’ Harry demanded.
    ‘Mundungus, of course,’ said Sirius, and when they all looked puzzled he laughed. ‘He was the witch under the veil.’
    ‘That was Mundungus?’ Harry said, stunned. ‘What was he doing in the Hog’s Head?’
    ‘What do you think he was doing?’ said Sirius impatiently. ‘Keeping an eye on you, of course.’
    ‘I’m still being followed?’ asked Harry angrily.
    ‘Yeah, you are,’ said Sirius, ‘and just as well, isn’t it, if the first thing you’re going to do on your weekend off is organise an illegal defence group.’
    But he looked neither angry nor worried. On the contrary, he was looking at Harry with distinct pride.
    ‘Why was Dung hiding from