Harry was sitting up, putting his glasses back on, and picking up his wand.
“I need to see the headmaster,” he said.
“Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, “it’s all right. They’ve got Black. He’s locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now—”
“WHAT?”
Harry jumped up out of bed; Hermione had done the same. But his shout had been heard in the corridor outside; next second, Cornelius Fudge and Snape had entered the ward.
“Harry, Harry, what’s this?” said Fudge, looking agitated. “You should be in bed—has he had any chocolate?” he asked Madam Pomfrey anxiously.
“Minister, listen!” Harry said. “Sirius Black’s innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can’t let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he’s—”
But Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile on his face.
“Harry, Harry, you’re very confused, you’ve been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we’ve got everything under control…”
“YOU HAVEN’T!” Harry yelled. “YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!”
“Minister, listen, please,” Hermione said; she had hurried to Harry’s side and was gazing imploringly into Fudge’s face. “I saw him too. It was Ron’s rat, he’s an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and—”
“You see, Minister?” said Snape. “Confunded, both of them… Black’s done a very good job on them…”
“WE’RE NOT CONFUNDED!” Harry roared.
“Minister! Professor!” said Madam Pomfrey angrily. “I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!”
“I’m not distressed, I’m trying to tell them what happened!” Harry said furiously. “If they’d just listen—”
But Madam Pomfrey suddenly stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry’s mouth; he choked, and she seized the opportunity to force him back onto the bed.
“Now, please, Minister, these children need care. Please leave—”