ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

51〝fifty-one〞

CONFUSED, AND SOMEWHAT AGGRIEVED, CEDRIC followed the rest of the team and the entire school back towards the castle. The Hufflepuff common room was buzzing. In the air was a general sense of puzzlement and discontent that rarely visited the brightly-colored basement. Many people were still complaining about the match being cancelled; others wondered why. As with most of the squad, Cedric belonged to the latter (Sansa was still struggling to get over her fury of not being able to thrash Gryffindor and re-clinch first position for the Quidditch Cup).

He saw Cersei trying to get hold of some of the other prefects, but she returned still frowning and without any new information. His mind swam to Ellis: Had Snape already communicated to the Slytherins what this was all about? Or was she waiting as anxiously and bewilderedly as him?

The clique had somehow jostled their way through the crowd to Cedric—it was undoubtedly easier for them to locate him in his canary robes that stood out from everyone else's Muggle attire—still clad in their fangear of beanies and scarves (Jaime had a Hufflepuff flag fastened around his neck, like a cape), and just as clueless as he was. Nobody seemed to have any knowledge of what was going on, but they had only to wait five minutes for the answer.

When Professor Sprout emerged through the barrel hole, an eerie hush rippled across the common room from front to back. It was the first time in Cedric's memory that she had entered without having to call things to order. The place was usually bustling with so much activity that it was hard to get all their attention at once; it was sometimes more efficient just to pin a notice to the board for everyone to read at their own leisure. Professor Sprout glanced over the whole lot of them, then heaved a deep sigh.

"It is not my wish to induce panic, but neither is it to keep you in the dark," she announced heavily. "There has been another attack—another double attack."

Never before had Cedric heard a more synchronized gasp.

"As such," Professor Sprout plunged on, her voice raised over the whispers of "whos" that had erupted, "for your safety, the following measures will be adopted with immediate effect..."

Professor Sprout unfurled the scroll in her hand and began enumerating the freshly-established restrictions, from a school-wide curfew which would start at six that very evening and recur every evening after that, to being guided to and from classes—and even the bathroom ("And I thought Cersei and Sansa were crazy," said Jaime; frankly, Cedric found this rather excessive too. What dangers could a toilet pose? As if an attacker would lunge out from the pipes or taps)—by a teacher without exceptions, and to cap it off: the suspension of all Quidditch-related events and nighttime pursuits.

Perhaps Professor Sprout's uncharacteristically dire tone had helped the Hufflepuffs to grasp the severity of the situation much quicker than Cedric assumed, because there was surprisingly no uproar at this. Even Sansa was speechless, though her mouth hung open, apparently too scandalized for words. When Professor Sprout had finished, she looked up from the yellowish parchment, grimmer than Cedric had ever seen.

"I ought to remind you," she said very solemnly, "that these are extremely uncertain, not to mention unpleasant, times. That being so, you should also be aware that, unless the person responsible for these attacks is captured, there is a good chance that the school will be closed. I, therefore, strongly recommend anyone else who thinks they might know something—anything at all—to step forward."

Patently, Cedric wasn't the only one who had noted it.

"Else?" said Cersei dubiously. "Someone's already said something?"

"Yes, Miss Lannister," replied Professor Sprout, "that's right."

"Who?"

"That, Mr. Stinson, I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge." Though Cedric thought Professor Sprout's eyes briefly flitted to him.