So almost three years after writing the first part of Hufflepuff!Harry's third year, here is the last chapter. Let's hope it doesn't take four years for year four.

Merry Christmas.


"We's be winnings the war, buts its taking too longs," said the 'Brigadeary Major' to the assembled elves. "Harry potter sir –"

At the sound of Harry's name a cheer broke out interrupting him.

"He gaves us the secrets of how to beat nasty booksies one at a time, but at this rate, we nots be finished before the end of the years feast!" he cried over the still cheering crowd.

The cheers died abruptly and a panicked murmur started to grow.

"Brigadeary Major, I's has an idea," called the elf who had fought his way to top to win the right of taking Harry's place in History of Magic. "We's can use tacticses!"

"Tacticses?" asked the Brigadeary Major.

"We's been learning them in Professor Binns's classes," answered the elf. "Goblins and wizards uses them against each other, and we've been learning them!"

A mutter of agreement rose around him as other elves from Binn's classes realised they had indeed been getting lessons in war craft and battle

"Great Harry Potter sirs must have known!" yelled another elf. "That's why hes be sending us to classes, giving up his own place so we can learn what we needs to know."

"And he must have convinced his friends to also give up their places!" screamed another, getting the jump on any other elf.

"Great Harry Potter sirs is truly great!" yelled yet another elf who really wanted to yell out something but had not thought of anything worthy until now.

The cheering went on for quite a while longer after that.


"On the count of three," said Professor Lupin. "One — two — three — now!"

Red sparks leaped from his wand, flinging the trunk lid open.

A stunningly gorgeous creature stepped out of the trunk, her long flowing locks draping over magnificent shoulders onto a perfectly proportioned breast. Tight, satin robes hugged her slender waist above curvaceous hips and down her long, long legs.

A hint of familiarity in her face distracted Harry, so he did not hear her first words.

"Harry," she repeated, her voice low and smooth as silk. "I know you've had a hard day at work, and dinner was terrific, but once you finish the dishes, can you take out the garbage and then put the kids to bed please?"

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" screamed Harry, waving his wand frantically.


"Close your mouth Harry," said Sirius, chewing on a rather over cooked portion of fried Basilisk. "I know it's an impressive story, but it isn't that jaw dropping, not until I get to the end, that it."

He tried stewing it, grilling it, sautéing it, and even made a lovely magic mushroom sauce to go with it, but it still tasted like chicken, if that chicken had been eaten by a snake that is.

Still, it was free and plentiful, and those were the two criteria Sirius most valued in his food.

"Sure you don't want some?" he asked offering a large chunck to Larry.

The golem shook its head slowly, mouth still wide open in its usual pose. Not that Sirius noticed anyway.

"Yeah, I guess it's not a patch on those fabulous meals you are getting in the main hall, are they? You lucky bugger."

The golem remained silent, not at all worried that its unasked for companion was so delusional that he had never noticed Larry was with it all the time and never left, or slept, or went to the bathroom.

"So anyway, there we were, knee deep in chocolate sauce and about to set fire to the marshmallows when-" Sirius suddenly froze, staring at something behind Larry.

Larry didn't bother turning. It grabbed one of the less disfigured knives Sirius transfigured using the mostly broken wand from inside the dead Basilisk, and tossed it. The knife flew a wobbly but direct flight and skewered an unfortunate rat, killing it instantly.

"You are getting really good at that," complimented Sirius as he came out of his trance-like state.

Larry remained silent. The man went even crazier whenever a rat showed up, but killing them quickly was usually preferable to seeing the dog running around trying to catch them.



"On the count of three," said Professor Lupin. "One — two — three — now!"

Red sparks leaped from his wand, flinging the trunk lid open.

Professor Sprout stepped from the trunk, a gleaming badge in her hand.

"Congratulations, Harry," she said, holding out what Harry could now clearly see was the Quidditch captain's badge. "Now you can practice every day!"

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" screamed Harry, waving his wand frantically.


"Hermione, I can't help noticing you have either managed to smuggle a previously unknown identical twin into the school, have cloned yourself, or are somehow managing to be in two places at once," said Harry taking a seat next to his friend at the Gryffindor table.

Caught off guard, Hermione spluttered into her morning juice.

"What's that?" asked Ron from the other side of the table, perking up suddenly as Harry mentioned the possibility of a twin Hermione.

"Haven't you noticed that she is in every single class, even when they are on at the same time?" asked Harry.

"I don't know what you are talking about!" said Hermione.

"Or that she is sometimes completely out of sorts and not sure what time of the day it is?" continued Harry, sneaking a piece of toast off Hermione's plate.

"Hey, get your own," protested Hermione slapping at Harry's hand as it retreated with her breakfast.

"But yours is already buttered," said Harry munching happily on the stolen food.

"What is he talking about? Do you have a twin?" asked Ron, unwilling to leave the subject alone despite Hermione's rather lame attempt at supposedly not knowing what was going on.

"Nothing," said Hermione, shooting Harry a warning glance that promised dire consequences.

"You know, one of the best things about going to a school is the access to all the answers you could ever want, if you just know where to look, or in this case, who to ask," said Harry.

"Harry," warned Hermione trying, but failing to sound more menacing.

"Hermione here has somehow managed to get a hold of -"

"Stop!" said Hermione, starting to panic. "I've promised not to tell."

"And you should keep that promise," agreed Harry happily. "I however, simply had to ask a couple the upper years how somebody could be in two or more places at the same time, and was right surprised to find out how many different ways there are! Of course it was relatively easy to eliminate all of them except one that could easily hang from a necklace much like the one you are currently wearing."

"What do you want, Harry?" said Hermione, her resolve collapsing faster than Neville could fall from a broom.

"Me? Want something?" protested Harry with as much innocence as he could muster, which was actually quite a ot due to the sheer amount of practice he had put into developing that particular faking skill.

"You always want something," answered Hermione darkly. "It's one of your less endearing traits."

"Well yes, I agree, but in this case, I think you'll find me most amiable. You see, I want to you stop using it every day."

"I am not going to lend it to you," she said. "You'd just abuse it to get a few more hours sleep or something."

"Great idea, but no, the last thing I want is to be stuck in school even a second longer than is absolutely necessary," said Harry. "No, I want you to cut back on how much you are doubling up."

Hermione's attitude and posture changed from despondent to outraged, and even slightly horrified.

For a moment, Harry marvelled at her ability to change moods, but decided it was probably just a girl thing, since he had noticed a lot of girls this year acting a bit 'schizo', as Justin so eloquently put it. Then it again, it likely had more to do with the current problem he was addressing.

"Why?" she demanded. "It's not hurting anybody or causing you any extra work or anything, so it really doesn't have anything to do with you."

"It's bad for you. You are losing track of yourself and starting to make some big mistakes," he explained, not at all perturbed by her anger.

"I am not," denied Hermione, looking even more outraged.

"Really, then why weren't you in Muggle studies this morning?" he challenged smugly.

For a moment Hermione looked confused, then terrified.

"Oh no," she said, quickly gathering her bag and racing away from the table in a mad whirlwind of almost uncontrolled activity that frankly exhausted Harry just watching it.

"What the hell was all that about," asked Ron, feeling left out and confused, and not entirely sure whether he should be defending Hermione or siding with Harry. "We haven't even started classes today."

"Hermione has a time-turner and is using it in order to get to all of her classes and do all of her work," said Harry. "She's being over doing it and has lost track of herself a few times."

"A time-turner, blimey," said Ron with a hint of awe. "That's dangerous magic that is."

"Apparently so," agreed Harry, helping himself to the rest of Hermione's abandoned breakfast.

"So how did you really figure it all out and why did you lie to her about missing a class?" asked Ron.

"Well it simple really, she is so mixed up that she will try to go back a few hours, which gets her even more confused. I found her having a bit of a nervous breakdown an hour ago outside the Ancient runes class, and she is now sitting in the infirmary having an enforced rest, courtesy of Flo."

"So she had a breakdown because you tricked her?" asked Ron, getting slightly angry.

"No, I tricked her because she had a breakdown and told me everything, including how I tricked her," said Harry.

Ron looked confused for a moment as he thought it through, before resorting to what most teenage boys would do in a situation like this.

"Fair enough," he said with a shrug before returning to his breakfast. "Just so long as she is going to be alright. Pity she doesn't have a twin though."


"On the count of three," said Professor Lupin. "One — two — three — now!"

Red sparks leaped from his wand, flinging the trunk lid open.

Professor Trelawney stepped from the trunk, dressed in a 'barely-there' robe Harry distinctly recalled from the Divine-Action memory-sphere 'lessons'.

"Come, dear boy," she rasped throatily. "Let me take you into the great beyond!"

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" screamed Lupin, waving his wand as frantically as Harry.


"And this, Harry," said Sirius, pushing the decaying door at the end of the narrow winding tunnel open, "is what the locals now refer to as the Shrieking Shack!"

They stepped into a very run down, dust and cobweb covered room. Broken and rotten furniture and furnishings were littered throughout, and the whole building leaned slightly to one side.

"Yep, it used to be just an average house when Lupin's parents bought it for him to spend his 'weekends away' in, but thanks to the Marauders skill with the lady's it gained a whole new reputation!" proclaimed Sirius proudly.

Larry, obediently following Sirius into the room, looked on with no change in his expression.

"It's true!' insisted Sirius as if Larry had somehow expressed doubt in his claim. "We must have bought every fanciable girl here at least once in our later years, and we had them screaming all right, but not in fear, oh no. It was passion! Yep, we had a system to let each other know if one of us was getting busy, and the rest would keep away over in Hogsmeade where we could hear everything."

Larry's face didn't change, as per usual.

"Well, okay," admitted Sirius shyly. "Maybe not every girl."

Again Larry looked on dispassionately.

"Would you believe half?"

Larry blinked, or rather, the eyes painted on his glasses blinked, which was a reflex Harry had added but rarely worked.

"And I guess most of the screaming was us trying to impress the others by pretending we had a girl here when we didn't really."

Another blink from the glasses – they were on a bit of a roll.

"Except for the girl Peter actually did managed to convince to some in with him that time. Apparently he showed her his thingy and she screamed. Or maybe it was him screaming when she started hexing him. Can't recall now. Anyway, want to hear?"

Sirius didn't wait for an answer, taking a deep breath.

"We live in a castle filled with Ghosts, have a Poltergeist tormenting us between classes, and come into weekly contact with magical animals that would find us a tasty snack," said Harry eyeing the run down shack he had been conned into walking half a mile out of the village to see. "What could possibly be in an old house to make it so terrifying that-"

A noise came from the building in question, a noise so hideous it defied description, although "one of Hagrid's 'cuddlier' pets eating something that did not want to be eaten and was still protesting" was not that far off.

"Bloody hell," he said instinctively drawing his wand. "What in Morgana's name was that?"

Unfortunately there was nobody left to answer as the rest of his classmates made impressive speed exiting the local vicinity.

Harry thought about running, then thought about the fact there had been no rumours of anybody ever having been attacked - and he was armed, then reconsidered his first thoughts as a second hideous scream emanated from the decrepit building.

He had just convinced himself running really wasn't worth the effort when a series of short barking-like howls destroyed his resistance and motivated his legs into new heights of activity.

"Think I might be a bit rusty," said Sirius, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes after he finally managed to get himself a bit under control.

"So, you want to have a go?"


"Brigadeary Major, we's be having success, alls the remaining enemies are on the run!"

"Horays!" cheered the elves in attendance in the war room, formerly lower kitchen number 5.

"That's be good news," agreed the old elf. "Where they's be running to?"

"Squadies eight and six are driving many, many bad booksies through corridor E8, sector five," explained the elf, using a polenta stick to move several macaroni pieces across the long kitchen table that was serving as a war map.

Various other kitchen paraphernalia were spread out over the table symbolising the distribution of forces throughout Hogwarts, with lines drawn in sauce to represent walls and other fixtures.

"That's be good," said the old elf looking at the map carefully. "They's be heading right into the Pit of Desolation where we's put all the escaping odd socks to die. With Squadies nine and fourteen pushing their groups into Filchies' dungeon, and Squadies two hundred and Yellow both forcing the last of the bad booksies from Biggy Tower, we's be having no problems containings them all separately – wait, what's that?"

He pointed to a wet spot on the table that extended quite a way across the battlefield.

"That's was the pudding," answered another elf. "We's be needing it for desertsies."

"Desertsies! That was the secret corridor number six seven eight five nine!" yelled the Brigadier.

"It's be desertsies now," said the elf, unconcerned.

"Oh no!" cried another elf, desperate to join in. "They all be escapings."

Cries of woe filled the room.

"There's be too many for us to contain," said the elf who originally bought them the good news.

"Alls not be losting," said the Brigadier as he studied the map intensely.

"If we takes out this-"

"The crumpet?"

"Yes, the wall between this-"

"The jam?"

"-And this-"

"The soup?"

"Then we can makes all the bad booksies go here!" finished the Brigadier major.

"Into the pasta? That be very messy, Brigadeary, and not a good meal either."

"It's be messy, but it's be ours only chance of victory. We's drives them togethers, then drives them outs and push them into, The Beyond!"

"Beyond, beyond, beyond!" chanted the elves excitedly.


"Er, Harry? Harry!" called Ernie, shaking harry gently. "Snap out of it mate."

Harry shook himself and automatically went through the 'wake up' process he had gotten out of a strange little book he read. It had helped him develop the ability to occasionally snap almost instantly awake from even the deepest sleep (which was ironic since he had actually been trying to improve his ability to go instantly to sleep).

"What's up?" he asked after barely a second delay as his brain ramped up.

"I think you killed another professor," said Ernie, nodding over his shoulder to where a group had gathered around something.

Harry, heart now racing despite his efforts to remain calm pushed himself up out of his chair and into the ring of people.

Professor Trelawney was sitting on the ground, boggly eyes open even wider than usual, staring off into the distance, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

"Nah, she's not dead," said Justin. "Just stunned I think."

"What happened?" asked Harry.

The last thing he remembered was settling in for a nice nap after slipping his cursed ring on.

"You screamed abuse at her when she asked if you were in the great beyond," huffed Susan. "And now we need a new Professor. You are so careless sometimes, Harry."

"I have never heard anybody say things like that before," said a very pale looking Hannah.

"It was brilliant," laughed Justin, who had been stifling outright laughter the whole time.

"Are you sure she hasn't just been over-doing it on the 'spiritual walking water' again?" asked Harry, giving the Professor a gentle shake. "You know, like the time she lectured us on the attributes of the perfect crystal ball and passed out standing up?"

"No, she most definitely was fairly sober," said Susan, still obviously annoyed. "Although she was once again wasting our time going on about ways of reading death omens in a lark's vomit."

"So, did it sound like a prophesy?" asked Harry, not actually sure if he should be concerned or not, since while none of the other 'puffs were particularly enamoured of the batty professor, none of them had caused this. "What I said, I mean. Did it come out like a prediction or a foretelling or something?"

"Not unless Trelawney one day gets a whole lot friendlier with a centaur tribe," said Zach, "in which case, I'm pretty sure she will be more than happy to give you an Exceeds Expectations."

"If she lives through it," added Justin, breaking into laughter again.

"We need to go fetch Madam Pomfrey," said Hannah, who was about the only one showing any real concern for the unpopular teacher. "She might just be in shock, but we can't just leave her, and she is in no condition to have a nice cup of tea and calm down like she usually does."

"I vote we send Harry, since it's his fault, while the rest of us go to lunch early," suggested Zach.

Harry was not impressed with the unity his housemates showed in backing that decision as they swarmed out of the room happily chanting "free period, free period", leaving him behind to care for the incapacitated Professor.

And he had only managed a mere fifteen minute nap!

"Come on then", he said to the now mumbling teacher and taking out his wand.

At least he was going to get some practice levitating a person without having to worry about them suddenly changing their mind and starting to struggle. Hopefully she wouldn't remember if he accidentally bumped her into a few walls on the way there.


It was finally time.

Padfoot silently crept up on the unsuspecting rat, utilising every ounce of stealth his canine form could muster, which was quite a lot more than a normal dog, mainly because he had spent years sneaking into and out of various girls bedrooms, and prepared to pounce.

He knew it was Peter.

It had taken months for him to track his former friend, but his nose was incredibly sensitive, and once he had caught a whiff of the traitor while he was sneaking into Hogsmeade to steal more beer, he had been driven like never before.

Finally, after torturous weeks of secretly patrolling the vast Hogwarts grounds, he had found his quarry hiding in the ground keeper's shack, and tonight for some reason, the traitor had made a mistake and ventured outside the relative safety of Hagrid's home.

With a sudden burst of energy Sirius leapt. Peter had no warning before he was swept up into the Grim's jaws.

For a brief moment Sirius considered crunching down and ending it, but Harry's silent reproach when Sirius explained his vendetta made him hesitate.

Of course Larry was actually completely silent almost all of the time, but Sirius never really noticed that and chose to interpret it differently depending on the subject matter at hand, his mood and a raft of other inconsequential factors, as he had always done with most things.

For instance when it came to one of Sirius's favourite subjects, sex, he believed Harry was silent with embarrassment, and sometimes in a bit of awe, as Sirius related his own experiences with the angrier half of humanity.

In this case, he decided that Harry didn't really approve of his plan to become the murderer the world thought he was, but would not stop him if he chose to fulfil one of his prison-born dreams and actually taste vengeance in a very literal way.

So instead of testing the squishiness of his former friend, Sirius simply pinned him between his razor sharp teeth and shook him until he stopped moving, probably from fright, or possibly from the remains of the potent mushroom stew still on Sirius's breath.

Padfoot was about to begin the long trek back to the cave that lead into the depths of the Chamber where he and Harry were camping, when a sudden, all-too-familiar chill made him shudder.

A brace of Dementors floated out of the darkness between trees in front of him.

He tried to growl, but only a weak whimper escaped his mostly full mouth.

The Dementors hesitated, unsure of what to do. Their instincts told them prey was near-by, but they could not properly pinpoint its location.

Sirius felt the drag of the ghastly indrawn breath. It tugged at his soul, trying to pull it from his body. In his mouth, Peter stirred and shivered in fright. The Dementors floated closer.

"Well at least Peter will die too," thought Sirius as his brain began to shut down in fear.

A deep rumbling noise interrupted his morbid thoughts. It quickly grew louder, causing the Dementors to stop their advance in confusion.

Suddenly, a wave of the strange, nastily toothed books Sirius had seen the house elves fighting months before, swept out of the trees not far from the Dementors.

Before the horrid soul suckers could retreat into the sky, the books changed directions and overwhelmed them.

Viscous teeth tore into the frail cloaks and putrid flesh, ripping and tearing in a frenzy of unadulterated rage.

Sirius stood stock still for only split second before turning and putting all four of his legs to very good, if slightly unsteady, use as the books flowed over the Dementors and headed towards him.


Lupin felt the moon madness begin to take hold and started panicking. He was such an idiot! Not only did he foolishly rush out to confront his former friends the very second he saw their names on the map he had just confiscated from the Weasley twins, but he had completely forgotten to take the foul tasting potion Snape had left on his desk beforehand!

Suddenly a very familiar black dog burst out of the trees and sprinted past him, an equally familiar rat dangling precariously from its jaws.

He tried to call out, but his voice became a howl. He was turning into a wolf, and nothing was going to stop it.

Except maybe the several hundred Monster Books of Monsters currently rushing towards him, hot on the heels of Sirius.

The situation was so unusual, his not-fully-transformed mind could not comprehend it, and he completely failed to recognise the danger until it was far too late and the wave of books crashed over him.

The last thing he head, or thought he heard, since he was never fully convinced afterwards that it had really happened, was a high pitched voice.

"Opps, sorry Mr Doggy-man," called an elf as it rush passed, trying to catch up to their stampeding horde of books.


Sirius ran like he had never run before, fear, anxiety and excitement driving his legs harder than should have been possible over the broken ground and through the tangled forest. He ducked under low hanging branches and leapt over fallen trees in a display of amazing athletic prowess.

The first spider webs didn't even register, but as they grew in number and thickness, he realised he was in big trouble.

He couldn't turn back, but going deeper into the lair of the Acromantulas was even more sure suicide, especially since he knew the spiders longed for the succulent taste of Dog.

Of course, Sirius believed most creatures practically lusted for a bite of his tender flesh, mainly due to a series of rather mean jokes played on him by his Hogwarts dorm mates involving the giant squid, but in this case he was actually right.

Swerving suddenly, he headed for the least 'webbed' part of the forest he could see. The fact an area relatively cleared of webs existed didn't really bother him, until he found out why.

There was a car.

It was blue.

He had seen it before.

It had been rather unsuccessfully trying to fly.

Now it was apparently taking out its frustrations on the giant spiders who called this part of the forest home. Dead, crushed spider bodies littered the floor, some almost as big as the car itself. In response, the giant spiders were swarming in to defend their home, and hopefully add some iron to their diet.

Without hesitation, Sirius leapt through one of the smashed windows, transforming back into a human as he went. He spat the rat onto the floor of the car and calmly asked, "Excuse me. Would you mind giving me a lift back to the castle please? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

The car was so startled that it paused in its rampage, just in time to see a wave of monsterous books flowing into the spider's huge nest.

"Er, sooner rather than later," suggested Sirius.

It suddenly seemed like a pretty good idea, so that's what it did, leaving behind mighty battle that would have become legend, if anybody who could tell the tale had seen it.


"Right then, Harry," said the scruffy looking stranger. "I'm off then – yes I smell too, don't say it. That joke got old a couple of months ago! Anyway, I'm off to a nice island in the sun somewhere, hopefully one with a ton of mostly naked birds. I'd take you in for the hols but this has all been a bit stressful and I need some time off alone to do adult stuff, okay? So I'll write, and see you soon I guess."

"Yeah okay," agreed Harry. "See you then."

The scruffy man went to turn away, but hesitated before suddenly sweeping Harry into a hug.

"Take care, you rapscallion," he said, letting Harry go and transforming into a huge black dog that loped off into the night.

"Er, who was that?" asked Ernie as he and Harry watched an image of the wizarding world's spectre of death run towards the trees.

"No idea," said Harry without missing a beat.

The dog paused just before the shadows of the Forbidden forest for one last look back at Harry, then climbed into a battered looking blue car that seemed to just appear out of nowhere.

"Seemed friendly enough though," added Harry, waving, since it seemed like the polite thing to do.


"So Harry, how was your year off then?" asked Zachariah as they rode the carriages away from the castle.

"To tell the truth, it was a bit boring," said Harry.

"Boring?" asked Hermione incredulously. "You were stalked for most of the year by an insane murderer-"

"Yeah but that happens every year," interjected Harry.

"-nearly got your soul sucked out by Dementors, twice-"

"I didn't even really notice the first time," said Harry, "and was falling too fast for any of them to have a proper go the other time."

"Helped establish the wizarding world's first major full motion production and distribution company-"

"Hey, that more Smiley's doing than mine! Reckon our grades are going to be pretty good this year though – I've never seen so many people wanting to study so often before. Dean did four lectures in one night!"

"-Introduced the House elves to the art of war so they could defeat a plague of rogue magical books that infested the lower levels of the castle for the better part of the year-"

"Binns taught them that, not me."

"You redesigned the Muggle Studies course and wrote the new text book for it-" she continued.

"More plagiarised than wrote, and the course is mostly just watching a bunch of movies now, movies you helped choose, thank Merlin. I thought I was going to have trouble getting them to change, but apparently it's been on somebody's to-do list for a century or so and they were happy just to wave the changes through without any sort of proper review. I should have added the Sun newspaper or some other rag – that would have been funny."

"You gave the Divination Professor a seizure."

"Beardy said she really was making a prophecy, so her condition had nothing to do with my unfortunate bout of cursed-ring-induced-Torrete's-syndrome. It was just bad timing really. Hey, did you know he has this flamboyant chicken in his office that cooks itself? Self-cooking food, genius."

"You mastered a highly advanced bit of magic that many adult wizards are incapable of performing-"

"I'm pretty sure Mooney was drunk when he decided that the Patronus spell was easier to teach me than the Riddikulus spell. Mind you, why nobody ever thought about casting a cheering charm on themselves first has got me buggered – easiest thing in the world to have a happy thought when you are tripping on that minor spell."

"And finally, you caused that very same defence professor to have a nervous breakdown and leave just days before the year was out!"

"Oh come on – it's not my fault he thinks bein thought of as a cross dresser was a bigger embarrassment than being outed as a werewolf," said Harry. "And I didn't even do that really, it was more your fault for telling everyone about my mistake."

Hermione huffed as Susan and Hannah both giggled, quite enjoying watching the bright but often self-righteous Gryffindor struggle with Harry's attitude.

"At any rate," said Harry. "I feel like I had to work pretty hard this year- don't snort, Hermione, it's not very dignified and doesn't suit you at all. As I was saying, I feel like I put in quite an effort this year and have nothing to show for it, so next year I am going to do better!"

"Merlin protect me, but are you saying you are actually going to try to get into trouble next year?" asked Zachariah.

"Not at all, my good man," said Harry, leaning back and spreading out in what everybody recognised he called 'sleeping position number eight'. "I am most definitely not going to put in more effort than I did this year, but I am going to get more out of it!"

Hermione could only stare incredulously.