Cloudy December 22nd

Another student had been petrified—Justin, who had been wary of Harry, was found frozen alongside Nearly Headless Nick. Another bloody warning scrawled on the wall sent the school into further panic. Hufflepuffs, in particular, were terrified of Harry, some even bursting into tears at the sight of him.

Harry was devastated, secretly wondering if he was somehow responsible. He avoided crowded areas, spending most of his time in Myrtle's bathroom with Ron and Hermione.

Joey and the twins ran into Harry after their Care of Magical Creatures class. The second-year Herbology class, shared with Hufflepuff, had just ended, and Joey had watched as the Hufflepuffs huddled together like frightened animals until Harry and his friends were out of sight.

Joey and the twins caught up to Harry, who was walking briskly ahead. Ron and Hermione looked at them hopefully, praying they could cheer Harry up.

"Hey, short legs but fast pace!" Fred and George teased, flanking Harry and slinging their arms around his shoulders.

Harry tried to shrug them off, but the twins held firm. "Let me go," he muttered.

"Don't be rude. We've got something fun for you!" Joey said, pulling out a beautiful blue quill and stuffing it into Harry's pocket. "It's their latest invention. A quill that writes by itself! It's yours!"

Fred feigned heartbreak. "Joey, that was the first one I made! How could you give it to another boy?"

Joey batted her eyelashes dramatically. "Harry, my heart is in that quill. Don't break it!"

Harry, horrified, quickly handed the quill back to Fred. "No, thanks! Take it!"

Joey sighed dramatically. "I guess I'll just have to hang myself on Fred's tree instead."

Fred grinned, tucking the quill into Joey's pocket. "Plenty of room for you here, darling."

The lighthearted banter seemed to lift Harry's spirits, at least temporarily. But the real comfort came when Sirius appeared in the Great Hall, lounging at the Gryffindor table.

"Harry! Aren't you happy to see me?" Sirius said, ruffling Harry's hair. "So, you're the heir of Slytherin, huh? Scaring the pants off everyone!"

Harry's eyes welled up. "I'm sorry. I've let you down."

"Not at all," Sirius said cheerfully. "You caught the Snitch right under my nephew's nose. That's something to be proud of!"

"But everyone thinks I'm the heir..." Harry said, his voice trembling.

Sirius laughed. "Well, I'm the heir of the Black family, and we've been Slytherin for generations. Want to go strut around Slytherin together?"

Harry managed a small smile. Sirius always had a way of making him feel safe, like he had a home.

As Sirius regaled Harry with tales of his exploits at the Ministry, Ginny entered the Great Hall, covered in dirt and accompanied by a blonde girl wearing carrot earrings.

"Ginny, did you fall?" Joey asked, standing up.

The blonde girl squinted at Joey. "Oh! You must be Joey, the sister Ginny talks about! She's told me so many stories about you!"

Joey blinked, unsure what Ginny had shared. "Uh, hi. Are you okay, Ginny? Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

Ginny shook her head. "It's nothing. Just a little scuffle."

The twins, ever the protective older brothers, crowded around Ginny. "Who did you fight? Did you win?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "It's not a big deal. I just... broke a couple of noses."

Joey grinned. "You fought for Harry? That's awesome!"

Harry blushed, touched that someone would stand up for him. The blonde girl, Luna, tilted her head, studying Harry intently. "You glow in his eyes, Ginny. Like the Mirror of Erised."

Ginny and Harry both turned bright red, while Joey and Fred exchanged knowing looks.

Ginny quickly changed the subject. "Oh, Joey, Cedric's looking for you. He found an old black magic notebook and wants to talk to you. Headmaster Dumbledore's waiting in his office at 3 PM. He said you know the password."

---

Joey arrived at Dumbledore's office, nervously clutching the notebook. The headmaster was fiddling with a stone basin, his beard dripping with what looked like caterpillar gummies.

"Ah, Joey! Please, sit," Dumbledore said, conjuring a pink sofa for her.

Joey sat down, her hands on her knees, looking like a guilty puppy. "Professor, I think I've done something bad."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh? Do tell."

Joey took a deep breath. "I burned down a room in the castle. With the Fiery Spell. And... the notebook that taught me the spell was inside."

Dumbledore's expression turned serious. "The Fiery Spell is black magic, Joey. Who taught you this?"

Joey shrank back. "The notebook did. Professor Lockhart mentioned it in his book, and I thought it'd be fun to learn..."

Dumbledore sighed. "Black magic is no joke, Joey. But since you didn't know, I won't hold it against you. Just promise me you won't use it again."

Joey nodded vigorously. "I promise!"

Dumbledore leaned back, his eyes twinkling again. "Now, about this notebook. Where is it now?"

Joey hesitated. "It's... in the room I burned down."

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "So, you used the notebook to learn the Fiery Spell, and then burned the room—and the notebook—with it?"

Joey stood up, bowing her head. "I'm so sorry! Please don't expel me! I'll pay for the damages! Just... can I get a discount?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No need for that, Joey. Accidents happen. But let's make sure this doesn't happen again, shall we?"

Joey nodded, relieved. As she left the office, she couldn't help but glance at the blue vase behind Dumbledore, which had been shaking suspiciously throughout their conversation. She wondered what—or who—was inside.