from what hermione and ron told them, dumbledore had spoken to the school that morning at breakfast. he had merely requested that they leave harry and elara alone, that nobody ask them questions or badger them to tell the story of what had happened in the maze and in moody's office. most people, elara noticed, were skirting her and harry in the corridors, avoiding her eyes. some whispered behind their hands as they passed. elara guessed that many of them had believed rita skeeter's article about how disturbed and possibly dangerous he was, and how elara was merely pretending to love harry so as to kill him. perhaps they were formulating their own theories about how cedric had died. elara found she didn't care very much. she liked it best when she was with harry and ron and hermione and they were talking about other things, or else letting harry and elara sit in silence while they played chess. she felt as though all four of them had reached an understanding they didn't need to put into words; that each was waiting for some sign, some word, of what was going on outside hogwarts — and that it was useless to speculate about what might be coming until they knew anything for certain.

the only person apart from ron and hermione that harry and elara felt able to talk to was hagrid. as there was no longer a defense against the dark arts teacher, they had those lessons free. they used the one on thursday afternoon to go down and visit hagrid in his cabin. it was a bright and sunny day; fang bounded out of the open door as they approached, barking and wagging his tail madly.

"who's that?" called hagrid, coming to the door. "harry! 'lara!"

he strode out to meet them, pulled harry and elara into a one-armed hug, ruffled their hair, and said, "good ter see yeh. dood ter see yeh."

they saw two bucket-size cups and saucers on the wooden table in front of the fireplace when they entered hagrid's cabin.

"bin havin' a cuppa with olympe," hagrid said. "she's jus' left."

"who?" said ron curiously.

"madame maxime, o' course!" said hagrid.

"you two made up, have you?" said ron.

"dunno what yeh're talkin' about," said hagrid airily, fetching more cups from the dresser. When he had made tea and offered around a plate of doughy cookies, he leaned back in his chair and surveyed elara and elara closely through his beetle-black eyes.

"you two all righ'?" he said gruffly.

"yeah," said harry and elara together. the response to this question has almost become automated.

"no, yeh're not," said hagrid. " 'course yeh're not. but yeh will be."

they said nothing.

"knew he was goin' ter come back," said hagrid, and harry, ron, elara, and hermione looked up at him, shocked. "known it fer years, harry. knew he was out there, bidin' his time. it had ter happen. well, now it has, an' we'll jus' have ter get on with it. we'll fight. migh' be able ter stop him before he gets a good hold. that's dumbledore's plan, anyway. great man, dumbledore. 's long as we've got him, i'm not too worried."

hagrid raised his bushy eyebrows at the disbelieving expressions on their faces.

"no good sittin' worryin' abou' it," he said. "what's comin' will come, an' we'll meet it when it does. dumbledore told me wha' you did, harry."

hagrid's chest swelled as he looked at harry.

"yeh did as much as yer father would've done, an' i can' give yeh no higher praise than that."

harry smiled back at him. elara noticed it was the first time he'd smiled in days. she smiled. "what's dumbledore asked you to do, hagrid?" harry asked. "he sent professor mcgonagall to ask you and madame maxime to meet him — that night."

"got a little job fer me over the summer," said hagrid. "secret, though. i'm not s'pposed ter talk abou' it, no, not even ter you lot. olympe — madame maxime ter you — might be comin' with me. i think she will. think i got her persuaded."

"is it to do with voldemort?" said elara.

hagrid flinched at the sound of the name.

"migh' be," he said evasively. "now . . . who'd like ter come an' visit the las' skrewt with me? i was jokin' — jokin'!" he added hastily, seeing the looks on their faces.

it was with a heavy heart that elara packed her trunk up in the dormitory on the night before her return to aunt meda's. as soon as elara step foot outside hogwarts, life would become about surviving, not living. she was dreading the leaving feast, which was usually a cause for celebra- tion, when the winner of the inter-house championship would be announced. she had avoided being in the great hall when it was full ever since she had left the hospital wing, preferring to eat when it was nearly empty to avoid the stares of her fellow students.

when she, harry, ron, and hermione entered the hall, they saw at once that the usual decorations were missing. the great hall was normally decorated with the winning house's colors for the leaving feast. tonight, however, there were black drapes on the wall behind the teachers' table. elara knew instantly that they were there as a mark of respect to Cedric.

the real mad-eye moody was at the staff table now, his wooden leg and his magical eye back in place. he was extremely twitchy, jumping every time someone spoke to him. elara couldn't blame him; moody's fear of attack was bound to have been increased by his ten-month imprisonment in his own trunk. professor karkaroff's chair was empty. elara wondered, as she sat down with the other gryffindors, where karkaroff was now, and whether voldemort had caught up with him.

madame maxime was still there. she was sitting next to hagrid. they were talking quietly together. further along the table, sitting next to professor mcgonagall, was snape. elara hoped snape knew that she'd be bugging him for the sleeping potion throughout her next three years at hogwarts.

professor dumbledore had stood up at the staff table. the great hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the leaving feast, became very quiet.

"the end," said dumbledore, looking around at them all, "of another year."

he paused, and his eyes fell upon the hufflepuff table. theirs had been the most subdued table before he had gotten to his feet, and theirs were still the saddest and palest faces in the hall.

"there is much that i would like to say to you all tonight," said dumbledore, "but i must first acknowledge the loss of a very fine person, who should be sitting here," he gestured toward the hufflepuffs, "enjoying our feast with us. i would like you all, please, to stand, and raise your glasses, to cedric diggory."

they did it, all of them; the benches scraped as everyone in the hall stood, and raised their goblets, and echoed, in one loud, low, rumbling voice, "cedric diggory."

"cedric was a person who exemplified many of the qualities that distinguish hufflepuff house," dumbledore continued. "he was a good and loyal friend, a hard worker, he valued fair play. his death has affected you all, whether you knew him well or not. i think that you have the right, therefore, to know exactly how it came about."

elara slipped her hand into harry's and clutched it tightly as she knew she was going to hear the words she refused to speak.

"cedric diggory was murdered by lord voldemort."

a panicked whisper swept the great hall. people were staring at dumbledore in disbelief, in horror. he looked perfectly calm as he watched them mutter themselves into silence.

"the ministry of magic," dumbledore continued, "does not wish me to tell you this. it is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that i have done so — either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think i should not tell you so, young as you are. it is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that cedric died as the result of an accident, or some sort of blunder of his own, is an insult to his memory."

stunned and frightened, every face in the hall was turned toward dumbledore now.

"there is somebody else who must be mentioned in connection with cedric's death," dumbledore went on. "i am talking, of course, about harry potter."

elara stifled a huge sigh of relief. her secret was safe. a kind of ripple crossed the great hall as a few heads turned in harry's direction before flicking back to face dumbledore.

"harry potter managed to escape lord voldemort," said dumbledore. "he risked his own life to return cedric's body to hogwarts. he showed, in every respect, the sort of bravery that few wizards have ever shown in facing lord voldemort, and for this, i honor him."

dumbledore turned gravely to harry and raised his goblet once more. nearly everyone in the great hall followed suit. they murmured his name, as they had murmured cedric's, and drank to him. harry squeezed elara's hand.

when everyone had once again resumed their seats, dumbledore continued, "the triwizard tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. in the light of what has happened — of lord voldemort's return — such ties are more important than ever before."

dumbledore looked from madame maxime and hagrid, to fleur delacour and her fellow beauxbatons students, to viktor krum and the durmstrangs at the slytherin table.

"every guest in this hall," said dumbledore, and his eyes lingered upon the durmstrang students, "will be welcomed back here at any time, should they wish to come. i say to you all, once again — in the light of lord voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. lord voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. we can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust. differences of habit and language are nothing at all if our aims are identical and our hearts are open.

"it is my belief — and never have i so hoped that i am mistaken — that we are all facing dark and difficult times. some of you in this hall have already suffered directly at the hands of lord voldemort. many of your families have been torn asunder. a week ago, a student was taken from our midst.

"remember cedric. remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of lord voldemort. remember cedric Diggory."

elara's trunk was packed; jupiter was back in his cage on top of it. she, harry, ron, and hermione were waiting in the crowded entrance hall with the rest of the fourth years for the carriages that would take them back to hogsmeade station. it was another beautiful summer's day.

" 'arry! 'lara!"

elara looked around. fleur delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. beyond her, far across the grounds, elara could see hagrid helping madame maxime to back two of the giant horses into their harness. the beauxbatons carriage was about to take off.

"we will see each uzzer again, i 'ope," said fleur as she reached them, holding out her hand. "i am 'oping to get a job 'ere, to improve my eenglish."

"it's very good already," said ron in a strangled sort of voice. fleur smiled at him; hermione scowled.

"right," said elara, with a teasing tone in her voice. "just to improve your english, nothing else."

fleur shot elara a somewhat exasperated look.

"good-bye, 'arry, 'lara," said fleur, turning to go. "it 'az been a pleasure meeting you!"

elara's spirits couldn't help but lift slightly as she watched fleur hurry back across the lawns to madame maxime, her silvery hair rippling in the sunlight.

"wonder how the durmstrang students are getting back," said ron. "d'you reckon they can steer that ship without karkaroff?"

"karkaroff did not steer," said a gruff voice. "he stayed in his cabin and let us do the vork."

krum had come to say good-bye to hermione.

"could i have a vord?" he asked her.

"oh . . . yes . . . all right," said hermione, looking slightly flustered, and following krum through the crowd and out of sight. elara awe'd.

"you'd better hurry up!" ron called loudly after her. "the carriages'll be here in a minute!"

he let harry and elara keep a watch for the carriages, however, and spent the next few minutes craning his neck over the crowd to try and see what krum and hermione might be up to. they returned quite soon. ron stared at hermione, but her face was quite impassive. elara gave her a pointed, questioning look. hermione pursed her lips, fighting a smile, and shrugged. elara had to stifle a loud squeal.

"i liked diggory," said krum abruptly to harry. "he vos alvays polite to me. alvays. even though i vos from durmstrang — with karkaroff," he added, scowling.

"have you got a new headmaster yet?" said harry.

krum shrugged. he held out his hand as fleur had done, shook harry's hand, then elara's, and then ron's. ron looked as though he was suffering some sort of painful internal struggle. krum had already started walking away when ron burst out, "can i have your autograph?"

hermione turned away, smiling at the carriages that were now trundling toward them up the drive, as krum, looking surprised but gratified, signed a fragment of parchment for ron.

the weather could not have been more different on the journey back to king's cross than it had been on their way to hogwarts the previous september. there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. harry, ron, elara, and hermione had managed to get a compartment to themselves. pigwidgeon was once again hidden under ron's dress robes to stop him from hooting continually; hedwig was dozing, her head under her wing; jupiter doing the same, and crookshanks was curled up in a spare seat like a large, furry ginger cushion. harry, ron, elara, and hermione talked more fully and freely than they had all week as the train sped them southward. elara felt as though dumbledore's speech at the Leaving Feast had unblocked her, and it seemed harry felt the same. it was less painful to discuss what had happened now. they broke off their conversation about what action dumbledore might be taking, even now, to stop voldemort only when the lunch trolley arrived.

when hermione returned from the trolley and put her money back into her schoolbag, she dislodged a copy of the daily prophet that she had been carrying in there. harry looked at it, but hermione, seeing him looking at it, said calmly, "there's nothing in there. you can look for yourself, but there's nothing at all. i've been checking every day. just a small piece the day after the third task saying you won the tournament. they didn't even mention cedric. nothing about any of it. if you ask me, fudge is forcing them to keep quiet."

"he'll never keep rita quiet," said harry. "not on a story like this."

"oh, rita hasn't written anything at all since the third task," said hermione in an oddly constrained voice. "as a matter of fact," she added, her voice now trembling slightly, "rita skeeter isn't going to be writing anything at all for a while. not unless she wants me to spill the beans on her."

"what are you talking about?" said ron.

"i found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn't supposed to be coming onto the grounds," said hermione in a rush.

elara had the impression that hermione had been dying to tell them this for days, but that she had restrained herself in light of everything else that had happened.

"how was she doing it?" said harry at once.

"how did you find out?" said ron, staring at her.

"is this blackmail? can i help?" said elara excitedly.

"well, it was you, really, who gave me the idea, harry," she said.

"did i?" said harry, perplexed. "how?"

"bugging," said hermione happily.

"but you said they didn't work —"

"oh not electronic bugs," said hermione. "no, you see . . . rita skeeter" — hermione's voice trembled with quiet triumph — "is an unregistered animagus. she can turn —"

hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag.

"— into a beetle."

"you're kidding," said ron. "you haven't . . . she's not . . ."

"oh yes she is," said hermione happily, brandishing the jar at them.

inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle. "that's never — you're kidding —" ron whispered, lifting the jar to his eyes.

"no, i'm not," said hermione, beaming. "i caught her on the windowsill in the hospital wing. look very closely, and you'll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears."

elara looked and saw that she was quite right.

"there was a beetle on the statue the night i heard hagrid telling madame maxime about his mum!" said ron.

"exactly," said hermione. "and viktor pulled a beetle out of my hair after we'd had our conversation by the lake. and unless i'm very much mistaken, rita was perched on the windowsill of the divination class the day your scar hurt. she's been buzzing around for stories all year."

"when we saw malfoy under that tree . . ." said ron slowly.

"he was talking to her, in his hand," said hermione. "he knew, of course. that's how she's been getting all those nice little interviews with the slytherins. they wouldn't care that she was doing something illegal, as long as they were giving her horrible stuff about us and hagrid."

hermione took the glass jar back from ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass.