He glanced around to make quite sure nobody was listening. Madam Pince was several shelves away, stamping out a pile of books for a frantic-looking Hannah Abbott.

“I wish I could talk to Sirius,” he muttered. “But I know I can’t.”

Ginny continued to watch him thoughtfully. More to give himself something to do than because he really wanted any, Harry unwrapped his Easter egg, broke off a large bit and put it into his mouth.

“Well,” said Ginny slowly, helping herself to a bit of egg, too, “if you really want to talk to Sirius, I expect we could think of a way to do it.”

“Come on,” said Harry dully. “With Umbridge policing the fires and reading all our mail?”

“The thing about growing up with Fred and George,” said Ginny thoughtfully, “is that you sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve.”

Harry looked at her. Perhaps it was the effect of the chocolate—Lupin had always advised eating some after encounters with Dementors—or simply because he had finally spoken aloud the wish that had been burning inside him for a week, but he felt a bit more hopeful.

“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”

“Oh damn,” whispered Ginny, jumping to her feet. “I forgot—” Madam Pince was swooping down on them, her shrivelled face contorted with rage.

“Chocolate in the library!” she screamed. “Out—out—OUT!” And whipping out her wand, she caused Harry’s books, bag and ink bottle to chase him and Ginny from the library, whacking them repeatedly over the head as they ran.

* * *

As though to underline the importance of their upcoming examinations, a batch of pamphlets, leaflets and notices concerning various wizarding careers appeared on the tables in Gryffindor Tower shortly before the end of the holidays, along with yet another notice on the board, which read:

...

CAREERS ADVICE

All fifth-years are required to attend a short meeting with their Head of House during the first week of the summer term to discuss their future careers. Times of individual appointments are listed below.

Harry looked down the list and found that he was expected in Professor McGonagall’s office at half past two on Monday, which would mean missing most of Divination. He and the other fifth-years spent a considerable part of the final weekend of the Easter break reading all the careers information that had been left there for their perusal.

“Well, I don’t fancy Healing,” said Ron on the last evening of the holidays. He was immersed in a leaflet that carried the crossed bone-and-wand emblem of St. Mungo’s on its front. “It says here you need at least “E” at N.E.W.T. level in Potions, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. I mean… blimey… don’t want much, do they?”

“Well, it’s a very responsible job, isn’t it?” said Hermione absently.

She was poring over a bright pink and orange leaflet that was headed, “SO YOU THINK YOU’D LIKE TO WORK IN MUGGLE RELATIONS?”

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles; all they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies: Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience and a good sense of fun!”

“You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like.” He was halfway through a pamphlet on wizard banking. “Listen to this: Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure and substantial, danger-related treasure bonuses? Then consider a position with Gringotts Wizarding Bank, who are currently recruiting Curse-Breakers for thrilling opportunities abroad… They want Arithmancy, though; you could do it, Hermione!”

“I don’t much fancy banking,” said Hermione vaguely, now immersed in: “HAVE YOU GOT WHAT IT TAKES TO TRAIN SECURITY TROLLS?”

“Hey,” said a voice in Harry’s ear. He looked round; Fred and George had come to join them. “Ginny’s had a word with us about you,” said Fred, stretching out his legs on the table in front of them and causing several booklets on careers with the Ministry of Magic to slide off on to the floor. “She says you need to talk to Sirius?”

“What?” said Hermione sharply, freezing with her hand halfway towards picking up “MAKE A BANG AT THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL ACCIDENTS AND CATASTROPHES.”

“Yeah…” said Harry, trying to sound casual, “yeah, I thought I’d like—”

“Don’t be so ridiculous,” said Hermione, straightening up and looking at him as though she could not believe her eyes. “With Umbridge groping around in the fires and frisking all the owls?”

“Well, we think we can find a way around that,” said George, stretching and smiling. “It’s a simple matter of causing a diversion. Now, you might have noticed that we have been rather quiet on the mayhem front during the Easter holidays?”

“What was the point, we asked ourselves, of disrupting leisure time?” continued Fred. “No point at all, we answered ourselves. And of course, we’d have messed up people’s revision, too, which would be the very last thing we’d want to do.”

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Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard on to the dungeon floor.	\|	He gave Hermione a sanctimonious little nod. She looked rather taken aback by this thoughtfulness.

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