Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Harry Potter, #3)

by J.K. Rowling

For maybe half an hour, a glorious half hour, he had believed he would be living with Sirius from now on … his parents’ best friend … it would have been the next best thing to having his own father back. And while no news of Sirius was definitely good news, because it meant he had successfully gone into hiding,

The exam results came out on the last day of term. Harry, Ron and Hermione had passed every subject. Harry was amazed that he had got through Potions. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore had stepped in to stop Snape failing him on purpose. Snape’s behaviour towards Harry over the past week had been quite alarming. Harry wouldn’t have thought it possible that Snape’s dislike for him could increase, but it certainly had done.

Percy had got his top-grade N.E.W.Ts; Fred and George had scraped a handful of O.W.Ls each. Gryffindor house, meanwhile, largely thanks to their spectacular performance in the Quidditch Cup, had won the House Championship for the third year running. This meant that the end-of-term feast took place amid decorations of scarlet and gold, and that the Gryffindor table was the noisiest of the lot, as everybody celebrated.

‘I went to see Professor McGonagall this morning, just before breakfast. I’ve decided to drop Muggle Studies.’ ‘But you passed your exam with three hundred and twenty per cent!’ said Ron. ‘I know,’ sighed Hermione, ‘but I can’t stand another year like this one. That Time-Turner, it was driving me mad. I’ve handed it in. Without Muggle Studies and Divination, I’ll be able to have a normal timetable again.’

‘It’s the Quidditch World Cup this summer! How about it, Harry? Come and stay, and we’ll go and see it! Dad can usually get tickets from work.’ This proposal had the effect of cheering Harry up a great deal.

Harry picked up the letter. It was addressed to him. He ripped open the letter and shouted, ‘It’s from Sirius!’

Dear Harry, I hope this finds you before you reach your aunt and uncle. I don’t know whether they’re used to owl post. Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won’t tell you where, in case this falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about the owl’s reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I believe the Dementors are still searching for me, but they haven’t a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted. There is something I never got round to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt –

Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from Gringotts vault number seven hundred and eleven – my own. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your godfather. I would also like to apologise for the fright I think I gave you, that night last year when you left your uncle’s house. I had only hoped to get a glimpse of you before starting my journey north, but I think the sight of me alarmed you. I am enclosing something else for you, which I think will make your next year at Hogwarts more enjoyable. If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. I’ll write again soon. Sirius

Harry looked eagerly inside the envelope. There was another piece of parchment in there. He read it through quickly and felt suddenly as warm and contented as though he’d swallowed a bottle of hot Butterbeer in one go. I, Sirius Black, Harry Potter’s godfather, hereby give him permission to visit Hogsmeade at weekends.

Harry read and reread the letter from Sirius all the way back into King’s Cross station. It was still clutched tightly in his hand as he, Ron and Hermione stepped back through the barrier of platform nine and three-quarters.

‘I’ll call about the World Cup!’ Ron yelled after Harry, as Harry bid him and Hermione goodbye,