Chapitre 90: A Pleasant Surprise
Hermione woke up in a cold sweat. She reached for the towel she kept next to her bed and cleaned her face. When she was done, she rolled over and checked the clock on her floor.
"Four o'clock," she muttered. "Oh well, it's not as if I need the rest."
It took her another minute to realize the clock didn't belong on the floor.
"Oh no!" Hermione scrambled out of bed. She lit up a pencil she found for some light, so she could see while she cleaned up.
The clock wasn't the only thing out of place. The contents of her desk were scattered around the room.
"If Mum and Dad see this…" She shook her head. "Mustn't think about that. It'll be fine. They didn't notice last time either."
"Last time" was a few days ago. As far as Hermione could tell, she was using magic in her sleep.
"Why don't they warn you about that?" she muttered. "Is it not a common problem?"
"Redecorating?"
Hermione jumped when she heard Rose's voice.
"What are you doing here?"
"I come bearing news!" she exclaimed.
She beamed. Her enthusiasm served to counterbalance Hermione's panic.
"At four in the morning?"
"I had a break."
Hermione decided she didn't need to question Rose any further.
"Fine, what is it?"
Rose looked around at her room again.
"Smithy!"
Smithy began moving all of Hermione's belongings back into place.
Hermione settled back into her bed and tried to relax.
"What news?"
"Remember how I said there was something on the 25th?"
"Yeah."
"It's the Yule Ball."
"The what?"
"It's a dance. Open to fourth-years and older, although anyone can be invited. Starts at eight at night, comes with dinner, and we need to dress up." Rose flipped open her notebook. "Yeah, that's all. The champions are required to have a date, but you don't need to worry about that."
Hermione nodded. She found her room more immediately interesting. She scanned the walls to ensure that she hadn't done any permanent damage.
"What about me?" she asked. "It's not as if anyone can ask me."
"You're a fourth-year, you don't need to be invited. Just ask someone."
Hermione sighed. "Rose, in our world, men have got to ask out the woman."
"Why?"
"It's some sort of tradition." Hermione rubbed her eyes. She was in no mood to translate her world for Rose.
"What if you're not interested in men?"
"Who cares?!"
Rose didn't flinch at Hermione's outburst. She took a seat beside Hermione on her bed.
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
Rose stared back at her in the dark.
Hermione gave a sigh of defeat. "Alright, I've been having bad dreams. The last few times… I think it's getting worse. I keep finding my room in a mess. Either Peeves followed me home…"
"You're casting in your sleep."
Hermione nodded.
"My parents can't know. If they knew, then… then they might not let me visit Hogwarts anymore."
"Don't worry, Brain. It'll pass. You've just got to give it time."
"You sound so grownup," Hermione said.
Rose made a face of disgust. Hermione laughed.
The girls sat in silence a little longer. Hermione checked the clock. If she was right, the sun wouldn't rise for almost four hours.
"If no one asks you," Rose said, "I'll save you a dance."
It didn't bother her that she'd get strange looks if she danced with Rose. It only mattered that she knew her friend had her back.
"Thanks, Rose."
"You're welcome, Brain."
At breakfast that morning, Harry stared at Cho. Her eyes, her hair, they were all so… perfect. He wanted to talk to her, but he couldn't.
A quick jab to his side brought him back to reality.
"What?" he hissed at Sally-Anne.
"If you keep staring like that, she's going to notice."
Harry looked back at Cho. He couldn't help himself.
"Have you asked her yet?" Sally-Anne asked.
"Of course not."
"Why not?"
"Her friends are always with her. I can't ask in front of them."
Sally-Anne glanced at Cho, then at Harry. He caught her eyes glancing at someone else, but couldn't follow them in time to see at whom.
"They're not always with her. Every Tuesday and Thursday night, she goes to the Owlery to deliver a letter. She's always alone then. Write a letter to Sirius and deliver it Tuesday night around eight o'clock. She'll be there."
Harry smiled at Sally-Anne. He was so happy he could've kissed her.
"Sally-Anne, you're the best!"
Sally-Anne returned to eating her food.
"That's what everyone tells me," she said with a sigh.
Neville had his own problems. Unlike Harry, he was required to have a date for the ball. He didn't know what would happen if he didn't, but he didn't want to find out. After his exercises the next morning, he found Rose sitting on her own, reading a book.
"Morning, Toad," she said without looking round.
"Hey, Rose." He paused, trying desperately to think of something to say. "W-what brings you… here?"
"Ref says there's something you wanted to ask me." She closed her book and looked at him. "What do you need?"
There was something he wanted to ask her. His stomach hurt thinking about it, but he forced himself to continue. He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. His face was hot. He felt like he was going to suffocate.
"Will you go to the ball with me?" he blurted.
All he could hear was the pounding of his heart. He slowly opened one eye, hoping to see Rose smiling, but instead, she was staring off into space.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm already going with someone else."
"Oh," Neville said. "Okay."
He forced back tears and fought the urge to run away. Rose's answer didn't surprise him, but it still hurt.
Of course she's going with someone else, you idiot! Why wouldn't she be? She's probably had tons of better guys after her!
"Even if I weren't, we can't go together," Rose said. "If we did, it would just confirm everyone's suspicions that I let you past Taltria and Alavel."
"Who cares?!" Neville shouted. "Who cares what they think?!"
"Professor Dumbledore."
"Right," Neville said, the fight knocked out of him. "I'll go now."
Neville turned around and ran before Rose could say anything. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but Rose appearing in front of him didn't startle him anymore. Surprised him, maybe, but not startled.
"I didn't say you could go!" she snapped. "I'm not done talking to you."
"What?"
"I'm out of practice," she said. "I can't remember the last time I danced, so I was hoping you'd practice with me."
A warmth replaced the sorrow and shame, and he smiled.
"I… yeah," he said.
"Kethé!" She reached into her picnic basket and took out a ring. "Take off your glove."
"What for?"
"We're not allowed to spend time during the day together, so I'm giving us time at night."
"Erm… Okay." He didn't understand, but obeyed nonetheless.
Rose slipped the ring onto his finger.
"Meet me at the Room of Requirement in a week."
She pointed at him in an attempt to mimic Sally-Anne, but it just looked adorable when Rose did it. Like a child trying to act like a grownup.
"And I expect you to have a date by then," she said. "No excuses. Remember, the worst they can do is laugh at you, and you survived that. There are plenty of people that'd love to go with you."
No, there aren't.
Harry waited until Tuesday. He held a hastily written letter to Sirius in his hand. Without another student in sight, he made his way to the Owlery. Nothing could stop him. With a spring in his step, he arrived.
No one was there.
Harry frowned at the empty Owlery. Cho was supposed to be there, wasn't she? Had Sally-Anne lied to him? No, of course not, it was Sally-Anne; she didn't know how to lie. Rather, she did, just never to him.
He crammed the letter into his pack, no longer in the mood to send anything. Sally-Anne hadn't lied, she'd just been wrong.
Harry walked out of the Owlery and nearly ran straight into Cho.
"H-hey, Cho."
"Hello, Harry."
She smiled at him and his heart soared. He stepped aside to allow her into the Owlery.
"Sending a letter?" he asked.
"Why else would I be here?"
Harry blushed. "Of course."
Stupid!
Cho fastened her letter to an owl. It took a look at the letter, then flew off into the night sky.
Harry opened his mouth to ask her, but he froze up. It could be his only chance; she'd think something was wrong with him if he showed up a second time.
"Cho." His mouth seemed to work on its own. "Will… will you go to the ball with me?"
She frowned at him, and his heart sank. He knew her answer.
"Someone else already asked me."
"Oh." His face burned hotter than before.
"I am sorry," Cho said. "Really, I am."
"Of course." Harry gave a half smile. "See you later."
He walked back to Gryffindor Tower in a daze. The corridors seemed to pass by at random. A few times he forgot where he was going.
"Lord Scarface, is something the matter?"
"Leave me alone, Alavel," he said. He'd meant to snap at the Nimblewright, but he didn't have it in him.
"You look–"
"I said leave me alone!"
"Harry?"
Sally-Anne emerged from behind the Nimblewright.
"Is everything alright?"
Harry shook his head, slowly at first, then faster. He couldn't bear to say it.
"Come on," she said. She turned to Alavel. "Thank you for trying to help, Alavel."
Alavel nodded at her. After a quick look at Harry, he turned and walked down the corridor.
"He's not trying to help," Harry said. "He never tries to help."
"He always tries to help, Harry, that's what he does. I take it Cho turned you down?"
Harry nodded.
"I'm sorry." She smiled at him. "Cheer up. There are other girls, and there's no shame in going alone."
"It's not just about the ball, it's about her. If she's going with someone else, then—"
"That doesn't mean she doesn't like you, it just means someone else got there first. Someone else likes her, asked her out, and she liked him enough to say 'yes'. That might mean she likes him, but I know she likes you."
"You do?"
"Not for certain, but no girl in her right mind that knew you wouldn't," Sally-Anne said, smiling her sweet, kind smile. "You're brilliant at defence, you can hit a moving target from at least 30 meters, you're the best at Quidditch, and I've heard Professor McGonagall is all but singing praises of your teaching skills."
"What?"
"Professor McGonagall? Stacy, the seventh-year prefect, was saying that Professor McGonagall talks about you all the time." Sally-Anne motioned for him to follow her. "Come on. We've still got plenty of time before curfew. Why don't we just sit and talk for a while?"
He walked alongside Sally-Anne down the corridor. Harry didn't feel much like talking, but Sally-Anne was different. He knew he'd feel better after talking to her; he always did.
"I mean it," Sally-Anne said. "You should talk to Professor McGonagall about what you'd need to do for a full-time job as a teacher. Classes you need, things like that."
"I'm only 14," he said.
"We need to worry about it next year," she replied. "Alex says that's when we really need to worry."
Harry forced a smile as Sally-Anne lead him into an empty classroom. He didn't want to think about the rest of his life. He had enough to deal with, even with Neville holding everyone's attention.
They took seats, then she continued.
"Have you told Sirius about it?" Sally-Anne asked. "Teaching, I mean, not Cho."
"Why should I?" Harry snapped.
"Sirius isn't trying to keep secrets from you. He's just trying to look out for you."
"He's hiding something from me!" Harry shouted. "I know he knows what those dreams are!"
"He's just worried about you."
"How would you know?"
"He told me!"
Harry stopped cold, his mind still processing her words.
Sally-Anne was talking to Sirius behind his back. They were best friends, and she was talking to Sirius behind his back.
"What?" he asked quietly.
"Sirius was worried about you, so he wrote to me a few months back," Sally-Anne said. "He's trying, Harry! He—"
"He's just like everyone else!" Harry roared. "He doesn't care about me! Everyone just wants to make my life miserable! That's all there is! Why should he be any different?!"
"Am I like that?" Sally-Anne asked.
"You've been talking about me behind my back! No one cares what I think! Everyone's happy to run my life without me! I thought Sirius would be better than that! I thought you would be better than that!"
Harry lept off his chair and grabbed his pack. He wanted… no, he needed to be alone. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn't have any friends. If Sally-Anne wasn't his friend, no one was. Even Ron probably blabbed about him. There was no one he could trust, so he chose isolation.
"Where are you going?"
Harry opened his mouth to say something, then decided it was none of her business.
"Please stop."
Harry didn't know why, but something in her voice made him turn around. When he did, he saw Sally-Anne crying.
"Why are you crying?" Harry demanded.
"Because I know it hurts," she sobbed. "I know you're in so much pain, and it hurts me to see you like that. I wish I could help. All I want is to make the pain go away."
"You don't understand," Harry said.
"Yes I do," Sally-Anne said. "I haven't a clue what my mum does. I've never known what she does. She could be unemployed for all I know. She works a lot, but never tells me what she's doing. I don't think my dad knows either. She's kept a secret from me my whole life, Harry. All I know is she seems to know a lot, she's good at collecting information, and she worked a lot until I was two. That's it!"
Harry couldn't bring himself to move. Sally-Anne's words hit their mark, and he felt… defeated. He felt as if everything he'd done and said up to that were all wrong.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said.
He wanted to collapse, but there was something far more important that he had to do before anything else. He walked back to her, hauled her to her feet, then put his arms around her.
"I hate it when you're like that," Sally-Anne sobbed softly. She didn't return the hug, but let her head rest on his shoulder.
"You can't just fix me," Harry said. "Who do you think you are, Rose?"
"I don't want to fix you, because you're not broken. I just want you to be happy. That's why I write back to Sirius to tell him how you're doing. If you don't want me to, I'll stop, but please tell him something."
"I'll… I'll do something," Harry said, not wanting to disagree with Sally-Anne. Harry hated making her upset. She was always so happy, and it filled Harry with hope. If Sally-Anne could be happy after everything she'd been through, maybe he could be happy, too.
"And… please don't shut me out," Sally-Anne said. "Please don't."
"I won't shut you out. You're my best friend. I can always talk to Ron about classes or Quidditch or whatever, but I know I can go to you with the hard stuff. I don't even have to tell you when something's bothering me, you just know. Even when something's bothering you, you still talk to me."
He let Sally-Anne go, then sat back down in his chair. Harry spent a few minutes searching for the right words. He knew what he wanted to do, it was only a matter of finding the right words.
"Dudley used to beat me up. Sometimes he was angry at something, but he usually just wanted a good laugh. If he broke one of his toys when no one was around, he'd blame it on me. Then Uncle Vernon would hit me."
"Oh, Harry."
Sally-Anne reached over and took his hand.
"He started going at me with a cane, a belt, anything really. One time he grabbed my arm and pulled it so hard, something snapped. Never bothered to get it looked at." He gave a small, sideways smile. "I guess Rose has done worse by now, and she's fixed me up every time."
Sally-Anne tried to smile, but Harry knew it was just as fake as his own.
"I came home from school one day with better marks than Dudley. They locked me in the cupboard for a few days to teach me not to cheat. I remember not understanding what I'd done wrong. I knew what cheating was, but I hadn't done it. They wouldn't listen, so I stopped arguing."
The words flowed out of him unrestrained once he started. He never wanted to stop. Harry realized that for the first time in his life, he had someone to whom he could tell everything.
"It's been horrible. It was like I was everyone's punching bag. I thought there was something wrong with me, that I deserved it. But then I realized, if I just stayed quiet and did as I was told, then I'd be alright. I could pretend to be happy, because it was as if I didn't exist. So that's what I did. I just stopped talking."
"You never need to hold back from me," Sally-Anne said. "And it's okay to go for help now and then. It doesn't mean you're different, it means you're just like everyone else." Sally-Anne smiled. "You'll always be special to me and Sirius. You're my best friend and his godson. You're still not the 'The Famous Harry Potter' or the boy-who-lived, you're just Harry. To me, Harry is the most special boy I've ever met."
Harry smiled, glad that he could count on Sally-Anne.
"Thanks."
"And… you're telling me all this, so I want to tell you something." She held up her pendant. "My pendant lets me read other peoples' minds."
Harry stared at her, not sure how to take that. Her face said she was serious, and it made sense the more he thought about it. Sally-Anne always knew what was on other peoples' minds. She didn't guess, she knew.
"So you've just been going through my thoughts all the time?"
"It's not like that. I've got to concentrate on you, and I only know what you're actively thinking. I was always so worried about everyone, and I wanted to know how to help them. Rose made me this so I could. I promise I don't make a habit of it. I can't remember the last time I read your mind. Just in second year, I was so scared that something was happening to you, and I couldn't bear the thought of that when I was just sitting by and doing nothing."
Harry turned Sally-Anne's words over in his mind. He wanted to be angry at her, but he couldn't find it in him. Not after everything they'd just said.
"Promise you won't do it again?"
"I only do it if someone's acting out of the ordinary, but I know you'll just tell me eventually, so I don't do it to you," Sally-Anne said. "Please don't be upset. I was afraid you'd start avoiding me if I told you about it before, and I couldn't stand that."
Harry nodded.
"I'm sorry about Cho, but it will all work out in the end."
Harry's spirits sank as they returned to the topic of Cho.
"Right."
"Perhaps there's even an answer staring you in the face."
Harry gasped. "You're right!"
"I am?"
"Rose! I bet she knows about my dreams!"
For just a second, Sally-Anne looked downcast. It vanished just as soon as it appeared, but it stayed long enough to catch Harry's attention. He quickly dismissed it. Sally-Anne liked helping him. She was probably upset that she hadn't thought of asking Rose about Harry's dreams first.
For once, Harry wanted to help Sally-Anne. He put his arms around her. He was pretty sure it was Hermione that didn't like hugs, not Sally-Anne.
"Thanks, Sally-Anne. I couldn't have asked for a better friend."
He felt her arms around him.
"I'm glad I could help," she whispered.
Like Harry and Neville, Ron had his own girl problems. A particular girl preoccupied his mind, but unlike his friends, he hadn't asked her out yet. Also unlike his friends, he'd dismissed the idea of going to the ball altogether. He didn't have to, nor did he think he really wanted to.
"Ronald," Sally-Anne said, "just the man I wanted to see."
"Huh?"
She took his arm and dragged him to the Room of Requirement. Despite his questioning her motives, she refused to give him a straight answer until they reached the room.
"Now that I've got you here, what are your plans for the ball?" she asked.
"I'm not going."
Sally-Anne laughed. "We're all going, in part to support Neville in whatever it is they're going to make him do, in part because Rose isn't giving us a choice in the matter."
"She can't make me go!"
Sally-Anne scowled at him. "Really?"
"Really!"
"She will physically drag you there, Ronald."
"Then—"
"Break your legs."
Ron opened his mouth again to protest. Rose wasn't above all that; she'd frozen him in amber their first year. What was to stop her from doing so again?
"Now that we've got all that settled, what about your date?"
Ron refused to answer her. He didn't want or need to tell her what he'd been thinking about the past few days.
"If we could hurry this up, I think Cedric wanted to talk to me about Hermione," Sally-Anne said at last.
What did she say?!
It was as if every voice in his head snapped to attention at once. Every mental thread converged on the same question.
"What?" Ron asked.
"I'm sure it's nothing," Sally-Anne said. She laughed. "Probably just wants to know how she's doing. He is awfully fond of her, after all."
Her face lit up, but it wasn't her usual smile. It was almost like a sneer.
"Wouldn't it be brilliant if he asked her to the ball over post?"
Ron lost it. He was on his feet in an instant, glaring down at Sally-Anne.
"What?!" Ron yelled.
Sally-Anne remained unphased by his outburst, although her smile did vanish.
"I know, it's a bit much," Sally-Anne said. "Still, they'd be so adorable together."
"Stop it! You can't help him!"
"Why not, Ronald?" Sally-Anne asked, her voice and demeanor cold enough to chill the fire next to them.
"Because… because we should be supporting Neville, not Cedric! He's—"
"Wrong," Sally-Anne said, her cold eyes staring directly into his. "Let me help you. Because you…"
He didn't want to say it out loud. Something about it felt… wrong. Like it would only be worse if he said it.
"I already know what you're going to say, Ronald, but if you don't say it, I can't help you," Sally-Anne said. "I didn't want to be hostile towards you, but I suppose I've already crossed that line by telling you that lie about Cedric."
Sally-Anne folded her arms and glared at him. She wasn't going to let up, but Ron was stubborn. He could outlast her.
"I'm leaving," Sally-Anne said, getting out of her chair. "Let me know when you're ready to talk."
Ron watched as Sally-Anne walked to the door.
Don't say anything, he told himself. You don't need her help. This was all just a big mistake.
She stopped when she reached the door, her hand hovering over the knob.
"I'm no good with logic; that's your job. I am good with people, so I'll tell you what's going to happen if you don't talk to me. What you need now is help with a girl. If you don't accept my help, that girl's going to find another date for the ball — because she's amazing — and you're going to find one at the last minute, if at all. Then, that poor girl that accompanies you will be treated to a night of you staring at the girl with whom you really want to go, because I know her and her friends, and she'll look amazing. The two of you will get into a shouting match where you give some sad excuse like the one you gave just now. She'll storm off in tears, then run right to her best friend. Her friend will probably wait out the night, then kill you in the morning. And if you're very, very lucky, she'll do it quickly."
"You don't know anything!" Ron snapped.
"Maybe I'm wrong," Sally-Anne said. "Why don't you wait here while I fetch Rose, and she'll beat the truth out of you."
"She'll just read my mind!"
"She could just read your mind, but I'm quite certain she'll like my way better. As I said, I'm good with people."
Ron had had enough. He ran for the door, but Sally-Anne stood in his way.
"Would you like to know a secret?" she asked.
"No."
"That was rhetorical."
Ron went for the door, but Sally-Anne cut him off. He punched the shield she created, then grit his teeth so she didn't know how much it'd hurt.
"I've been obsessed with a boy for years. No matter what I do, I can't let him go. When the ball was announced, I thought it was my chance. I thought he'd finally see me, but I doubt he's going to. You've still got the option to go with the girl you want to go with, so here's my advice: man up and ask her before someone else does."
Ron and Sally-Anne stared back at one another. She knew what he'd wanted to say, and he knew it. He didn't want to say anything, but there was no use denying it.
"You've been off this year, Ron, and I think I know why. Wouldn't you rather be happy again?"
Ron looked away and mumbled something.
"I'm sorry?"
Ron mumbled his answer again.
"Ronald!"
"I like Hermione!"
Sally-Anne's demeanor changed from cross to excited in an instant.
"That's wonderful, Ron!"
Ron wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he hated himself for saying it. It felt like he'd just admitted defeat.
"I'm proud of you for telling me," Sally-Anne said, "and for saying it out loud."
He still felt defeated, but in a way, Sally-Anne's words made it feel like defeat was alright. Maybe he did like Hermione. Was that so bad?
"What do I do?" he asked.
"Hermione comes back Saturday morning, and I think you should ask her in person."
"What if someone asks her before then?" Ron asked. "Charlie said girls like her get snatched up quick, and I–"
"It'll be fine," Sally-Anne said. "Trust me. I know who nearly every student is going with, or I can guess most of them. There aren't that many boys interested in going out of their way to ask Hermione. You'll need to ask her the moment she gets back, but apart from that, you should be fine."
There was something about the way Sally-Anne smiled that assured Ron he'd be alright.
Finding Rose to ask about Harry's dreams was easier said than done. She'd taken up the habit of vanishing after classes and not showing up to meals, so they rarely had a chance to ask her. Harry checked the map for her, but its results were unhelpful.
"What's she doing in the Quidditch Pitch?" Harry asked.
"How should I know?" Sally-Anne replied.
"You know everything else."
"I've got nothing about Rose." Sally-Anne frowned. "Perhaps Taltria or Alavel would know."
Harry gave a look of disgust. "I'll pass."
After Defence Against the Dark Arts on Thursday, Rose stuck around long enough for Sally-Anne to grab her.
"Rose, can we borrow you for a second?" Sally-Anne asked.
"What's a second?" Rose asked.
"Alright, can we borrow you for a round?"
"Sure!" Rose exclaimed. "What do you two need?"
Harry explained the dreams he'd been having. He told her about Voldemort and the man he couldn't identify. When he finished describing the dreams, Rose stared at him blankly for a moment.
"What did he look like?" Rose asked.
"I dunno, tall, dark brown hair, kind of thin," Harry said.
Rose pulled out her sketchpad and flipped through it until she found a picture of a man.
"Like this?" she asked, holding up the picture.
"Exactly like that," Harry said. "Where have you seen—"
"You two, with me! We're going to see Professor Dumbledore. Now!"
"What?!" Harry exclaimed, looking to Sally-Anne for an answer.
They exchanged confused looks before turning back to Rose.
"Why?" Sally-Anne asked as they ran to keep up with Rose.
"This is what I need," Rose said, more excited than Harry had ever seen her. "Proof!"
Rose led them straight to Professor Dumbledore's office. According to her, she couldn't teleport them because she was supposed to refrain from doing so as much as possible.
"Something about drawing attention," she said. "Less talk, more run speed!"
The gargoyle lept aside in fear the second it saw Rose, who pushed Sally-Anne and Harry up the steps.
"What's the rush?" Sally-Anne asked again.
"You'll see in a moment," Rose said, banging on the door.
"Yes?" came Professor Dumbledore's voice.
"I've got proof it was him!"
"Rose, I wasn't expecting you back so soon," Professor Dumbledore said in a tone that didn't fit Rose's anxiety at all. "Do come in."
The door swung open to reveal Professor Dumbledore, who was joined by none other than the Minister of Magic himself.
"Ms. Peta-Lorrum, we're—"
"You said report to you the moment I found anything," Rose said, pointing at Harry. "I found something."
"Minister Fudge and I were just discussing that," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Rose, what's going on?" Harry asked.
"Professor Dumbledore was just telling me the most outlandish theory," Fudge said. "Crouch's son is dead, little girl."
"So was Peter Pettigrew!" Rose shot back. "Great job on—"
"Rose!" Professor Dumbledore and Sally-Anne snapped.
"Let's all stop before we get carried away," Dumbledore continued. "What is this proof you've got?"
Rose pushed Harry forward. Harry glanced at Fudge, then at Dumbledore. He didn't like the idea of talking with both of them present.
"Tell him," Rose said.
Harry glanced back at Sally-Anne. Her smile gave him some reassurance. If she thought she knew what was going on, he figured she'd cover him if he messed up.
"I've been having dreams, Professor," Harry said. "Dreams about… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He's talking with this man, but I don't know who he is. Rose showed us this picture, and it's the man from my dream."
Professor Dumbledore turned to Rose.
"I take it this man is Barty Crouch, Jr.?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
Rose triumphantly slammed her sketchpad onto Professor Dumbledore's desk.
"Did Ms. Peta-Lorrum coerce you into saying any of this?" Professor Dumbledore asked Harry.
"No, Professor."
"Am I supposed to believe any of this?" Fudge asked.
Rose growled at him for a split-second before Professor Dumbledore cut her off.
"Ms. Perks, can you vouch for this?"
"Harry told me about his dreams over the summer," Sally-Anne said. "He told Sirius, Alavel, and Remus, too. They can all vouch for him. He tried describing the man before, and he sounded just like what Rose drew, although admittedly, a lot of people might look like that."
"You see, a coincidence," Fudge said. "The girl is merely trying to shove blame off herself. Need I remind you how difficult relations with the other schools have been?"
"I am aware, Cornelius, but unjustly blaming one person or another will not resolve the situation," Professor Dumbledore said calmly. "Mr. Potter has a known link with the Dark Lord, and if he saw Junior in his dreams, then there is a possibility that Ms. Peta-Lorrum's theory about him controlling his father is correct. I'm not asking to arrest him. In fact, I'd like this to be done as quietly as possible."
"Rose," Sally-Anne hissed, motioning to their friend.
Rose stepped back to put herself next to Sally-Anne. Harry tuned in to their conversation. He'd much rather be talking to them than stared down by the Minister of Magic.
"Agree to give Fudge the credit," she whispered. "You don't care, and he does."
"If you're wrong, Dumbledore, it could be a disaster!" Fudge was saying. "If word got out that we acted on the suspicions of a child, then–"
"Don't mention me at all," Rose said. "If it goes wrong, Professor Dumbledore will take the blame. If it goes right, then you can take all the credit. You've literally got nothing to lose and everything to gain."
Fudge looked from Rose to Professor Dumbledore.
"There's no rush," Professor Dumbledore said. "I will agree to what Ms. Peta-Lorrum suggested, but I recommend that we wait until after the Yule Ball. Preparation for the second task is as finished as it can be for now, and this is a lot to take in at once." He addressed Fudge directly. "Come January, I would like to have Crouch dosed with veritaserum and interrogated. Everything will be done unofficially, off the record, and without Ms. Peta-Lorrum present."
"You've just told her everything!" Fudge exclaimed. "What if she—"
"What if she what?" Professor Dumbledore asked. "She's a young girl, Cornelius. In my youth, I was quite the talented, handsome young lad, but even I would've had trouble covering up a plot such as this. She can't use the Imperius Curse herself, so there's no harm in telling her anything. Or do you want me to dose her as well?"
"Professor Snape will run all the way here if you tell him you're going to do that," Rose added.
For a time, no one said anything. Harry hoped that someone would explain what was happening, but no one did. He exchanged glances with Sally-Anne. She was just as confused as he was. Did her pendant not work on Rose?
"I'll need to discuss this some more," Fudge said finally. "This hardly seems like enough evidence to—"
"People have been convicted on less," Professor Dumbledore said. "I'm not asking to imprison him, I'm asking to interrogate him under veritaserum. That should work around the Imperius Curse, if he is indeed under it."
Fudge took one last look at Rose. "I'll set it up."
"Thank you, Cornelius," Professor Dumbledore said, then shot a look at Rose.
"Thank you, Minister," she said, curtsying.
"I've got some owls to send," Fudge said. He made his way to the exit, then stopped.
"Mr. Potter, I can't say I've ever had the pleasure of meeting you." He shook Harry's hand. "And it is quite a pleasure."
"Erm… same," Harry said.
Fudge released Harry's hand and turned to Sally-Anne.
"And Ms. Perks, so good to see you feeling better than the last time we met."
"I'm flattered you remember me," Sally-Anne replied. "It's an honor to meet you properly, Minister."
"Likewise, I'm sure." He turned back to Dumbledore. "Dumbledore."
"Minister."
He nodded to Rose before leaving, although Harry figured it was out of politeness than anything.
"Rose, defending you is becoming a habit I'd quite like to break," Professor Dumbledore said. "Harry, Sally-Anne, thank you both for your help."
"You're welcome, Professor," Sally-Anne said, curtsying.
The three of them exited Professor Dumbledore's office. After they'd descended the stairs, Harry turned to Rose.
"What was that all about?"
"Junior's controlling Senior, who put Toad's name in the Goblet of Fire," Rose replied. "Long complicated plan, but we're gonna stop it." Out of nowhere, she hugged them both. "Thank you so much! I've been looking for proof it was him all week!"
"How'd you know it was him?" Sally-Anne asked.
"The goblet told me, of course," Rose replied.
"Of course."
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone