Dawn Rivera

Grim Defeat

Professor Dumbledore sends all the Gryffindors back to the Great Hall, where we are joined ten minutes later by the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin, who look extremely confused.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore tells us as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick close all doors into the Hall. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances of the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he adds to Percy, who is looking immensely proud and important. "Send word with one of the ghosts."

Professor Dumbledore pauses, about to leave the Hall, and says, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing..."

One casual wave of his wand and the long tables fly to the edges of the Hall and stand themselves against the walls; another wave, and the floor is covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

"Sleep well," says Professor Dumbledore, closing the door behind him.

The Hall immediately begins to buzz excitedly; the Gryffindors are telling the rest of the school what has just happened.

"Everyone into their sleeping bags!" shouts Percy. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"C'mon," Ron says to Harry, Danny, Hermione and me; we seize five sleeping bags and drag them into a corner. With a touch of my hand, I turn mine orange and less squishy - the Hall is warm enough as it is, and who wants to be the same as everyone else? I kiss Draco goodnight and follow my friends, wondering if I imagined the tears in Gregory's eyes or whether it was just a trick of the light. The light, probably.

"Do you think Black's still in the castle?" Hermione whispers anxiously.

"Dumbledore obviously thinks he might be," says Ron.

"It's very lucky he picked tonight, you know," I say, as we climb fully dressed into our sleeping bags and prop ourselves on our elbows to talk. I glance at Harry. I've been doing that a lot lately. I'm not sure he's noticed. "The one night we weren't in the Tower..."

"I reckon he's lost track of time, being on the run," says Ron. "Didn't realise it was Hallowe'en. Otherwise he'd have come bursting in here."

Hermione and me shudder.

All around us people are asking each other the same question: "How did he get in?"

"Maybe he knows how to Apparate," says a Ravenclaw a few feet away. "Just appear out of thin air, you know."

"Disguised himself, probably," says a Hufflepuff fifth-year.

"He could've flown in," suggests Dean Thomas.

"Honestly, are me and Dawn the only ones who've ever bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?" says Hermione crossly to me, Harry, Danny and Ron.

"Probably," says Ron. "Why?"

"Because the castle's protected by more than just walls, you know," I say, glancing at Harry. "There are all sorts of enchantments on it, to stop people entering by stealth. You can't just Apparate in here. And I'd like to see the disguise that could fool those Dementors. They're guarding every single entrance to the grounds. They'd have seen him fly in, too. And Filch knows all the secret passages, they'll have them covered..."

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouts. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!"

The candles all go out at once. The only light now comes from the silvery ghosts, who are drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like he sky outside, is scattered with stars. What with that, and the whispering that still fills the hall, I feel as though I am sleeping out of doors in a light wind.