he first week of the summer term to discuss 

their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below. 
Harry looked down the list and found that he was expected in Professor McGonagall's office at half past two on Monday, which would mean missing most of Divination. He and the other fifth-years spent a considerable part of the final weekend of the Easter break reading all the careers information that had been left there for their perusal. 
'Well, I don't fancy Healing,' said Ron on the last evening of the holidays. He was immersed in a leaflet that carried the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St Mungo's on its front. 'It says here you need at least "E" at NEWT level in Potions, Her-bology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I mean: blimey: don't want much, do they?' 

'Well, it's a very responsible job, isn't it?' said Hermione absently. 
She was poring over a bright pink and orange leaflet that was headed, 'SO YOU THINK YOU'D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS?' 

'You don't seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles; all they want is an OWL in Muggle Studies: Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience and a good sense of fun!' 

'You'd need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,' said Harry darkly. 'Good sense of when to duck, more like.' He was halfway through a pamphlet on wizard banking. 'Listen to this: Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad: They want Arithmancy, though; you could do it, Hermione!' 

'I don't much fancy banking,' said Hermione vaguely, now immersed in: 'HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?' 

'Hey,' said a voice in Harry's ear. He looked round; Fred and George had come to join them. 'Ginnys had a word with us about you,' said Fred, stretching out his legs on the table in front of them and causing several booklets on careers with the Min-istry of Magic to slide off on to the floor. 'She says you need to talk to Sirius?' 

'What?' said Hermione sharply, freezing with her hand halfway towards picking up 'MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES'. 
'Yeah:' said Harry, trying to sound casual, 'yeah, I thought I'd like -' 

'Don't be so ridiculous,' said Hermione, straightening up and looking at him as though she could not believe her eyes. 'With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?' 

'Well, we think we can find a way around that,' said George, stretching and smiling. 'It's a simple matter of causing a diver-sion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?' 

'What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?' continued Fred. 'No point at all, we answered our-selves. And of course, we'd have messed up people's revision, too, which would be the very last thing we'd want to do.' 

He gave Hermione a sanctimonious little nod. She looked rather taken aback by this thoughtfulness. 
'But its business as usual from tomorrow,' Fred continued briskly. 'And if we're going to be causing a bit of uproar, why not do it so that Harry can have his chat with Sirius?' 

'Yes, but still,' said Hermione, with an air of explaining something very simple to somebody very obtuse, 'even if you do cause a diversion, how is Harry supposed to talk to him?' 

'Umbridge's office,' said Harry quietly. 
He had been thinking about it for a fortnight and could come up with no alternative. Umbridge herself had told him that the only fire that was not being watched was her own. 
'Are - you - insane?' said Hermione in a hushed voice. 
Ron had lowered his leaflet on jobs in the Cultivated Fungus Trade and was watching the conversation warily. 
'I don't think so,' said Harry, shrugging. 
'And how are you going to get in there in the first place?' 

Harry was ready for this question. 
'Sirius's knife,' he said. 
'Excuse me?' 

'Christmas before last Sirius gave me a knife that'll open any lock,' said Harry. 'So even if she's bewitched the door so Alo-homora won't work, which I bet she has -' 

'What do you think about this?' Hermione demanded of Ron, and Harry was reminded irresistibly of Mrs Weasley appeal-ing to her husband during Harry's first dinner in Grimmauld Place. 
'I dunno,' said Ron, looking alarmed at being asked to give an opinion. 'If Harry wants to do it, it's up to him, isn't it?' 

'Spoken like a true friend and Weasley,' said Fred, clapping Ron hard on the back. 'Right, then. We're thinking of doing it tomorrow, just after lessons, because it should cause maximum impact if everybody's in the corridors - Harry, we'll set it off in the east wing somewhere, draw her right away from her own office - I reckon we should be able to guarantee you, what, twenty minutes?' he said, looking at George. 
'Easy,' said George. 
'What sort of diversion is it?' asked Ron. 
'You'll see, little bro',' said Fred, as he and George got up again. 'At least, you will if you trot along to Gregory the Smarmy's corridor round about five o'clock tomorrow.' 

* * * 

Harry awoke very early the next day, feeling almost as anxious as he had done on the morning of his disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic. It was not only the prospect of breaking into Umbridge's office and using her fire to speak to Sirius that was making him feel nervous, though that was certainly bad enough; today also happened to be the first time Harry would be in close proximity to Snape since Snape had thrown him out of his office. 
After lying in bed for a while thinking about the day ahead, Harry got up very quietly and moved across to the window be-side Neville's bed, and stared out on a truly glorious morning. The sky was a clear, misty, opalescent blue. Directly ahead of him, Harry could see the towering beech tree below which his father had once tormented Snape. He was not sure what Sirius could possibly say to him that would make up for what he had seen in the Pensieve, but he was desperate to hear Sirius's own account of what had happened, to know of any mitigating factors there might have been, any excuse at all for his father's be-haviour: 

Something caught Harry's attention: movement on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry squinted into the sun and saw Hagrid emerging from between the trees. He seemed to be limping. As Harry watched, Hagrid staggered to the door of his cabin and disappeared inside it. Harry watched the cabin for several minutes. Hagrid did not emerge again, but smoke furled from the chimney, so Hagrid could not be so badly injured that he was unequal to stoking the fire. 
Harry turned away from the window, headed back to his trunk and started to dress. 
With the prospect of forcing entry into Umbridge's office ahead, Harry had never expected the day to be a restful one, but he had not reckoned on Hermione's almost continual attempts to dissuade him from what he was planning to do at five o'clock. For the first time ever, she was at least as inattentive to Professor Binns in History of Magic as Harry and Ron were, keeping up a stream of whispered admonitions that Harry tried very hard to ignore. 
': and if she does catch you there, apart from being expelled, she'll be able to guess you've been talking to Snuffles and this time I expect she'll force you to drink Veritaserum and answer her questions:' 

'Hermione,' said Ron in a low and indignant voice, 'are you going to stop telling Harry off and listen to Binns, or am I going to have to take my own notes?' 

'You take notes for a change, it won't kill you!' 

By the time they reached the dungeons, neither Harry nor Ron was speaking to Hermione. Undeterred, she took advantage of their silence to maintain an uninterrupted flow of dire warnings, all uttered under her breath in a vehement hiss that caused Seamus to waste five whole minutes checking his cauldron for leaks. 
Snape, meanwhile, seemed to have decided to act as though Harry were invisible. Harry was, of course, well-used to this tactic, as it was one of Uncle Vernon's favourites, and on the whole was grateful he had to suffer nothing worse. In fact, com-pared to what he usually had to endure from Snape in the way of taunts and snide remarks, he found the new approach some-thing of an improvement, and was pleased to find that when left well alone, he was able to concoct an Invigoration Draught quite easily. At the end of the lesson he scooped some of the potion into a flask, corked it and took it up to Snape's desk for marking, feeling that he might at last have scraped an '?'. 
He had just turned away when he heard a smashing noise. Malfoy gave a gleeful yell of laughter. Harry whipped around. His potion sample lay in pieces on the floor and Snape was surveying him with a look of gloating pleasure. 
'Whoops,' he said softly. 'Another zero, then, Potter.' 

Harry was too incensed to speak. He strode back to his cauldron, intending to fill another flask and force Snape to mark it, but saw to his horror that the rest of the contents had vanished. 
'I'm sorry!' said Hermione, with her hands over her mouth. 'I'm really sorry, Harry. I thought you'd finished, so I cleared up!' 

Harry could not bring himself to answer. When the bell rang, he hurried out of the dungeon without a backwards glance, and made sure that he found himself a seat between Neville and Seamus for lunch so that Hermione could not start nagging him again about using Umbridge's office. 
He was in such a bad mood by the time he got to Divination that he had quite forgotten his careers appointment with Pro-fessor McGonagall, remembering it only when Ron asked him why he wasn't in her office. He hurtled back upstairs and ar-rived out of breath, only a few minutes 