“It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.”
“Told you, I was joking,” said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the letter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a prefect.”
“No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly.
George carried the barn owl over to the window and it took off. George turned around and grinned at Ron.
“Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.”
He and Fred left the Owlery. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stared at one another.
“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered. “About Crouch and everything?”
“No,” said Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell Dumbledore.”
Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him.
“Well . . .” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re . . . they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them — when — you know —”
“We weren’t talking.” Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail . . .”
“It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.”
Hermione was looking uncomfortable now.
“Yes, but . . . they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.”
“Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking skeptical. “I dunno . . . they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?”
“Yes, but this is the law,” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule. . . . They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron . . . maybe you’d better tell Percy. . . .”
“Are you mad?” said Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” He stared at the window through which Fred and George’s owl had departed, then said, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”
“D’you think it’s too early to go and see Professor Moody?” Hermione said as they went down the spiral staircase.
“Yes,” said Harry. “He’d probably blast us through the door if we wake him at the crack of dawn; he’ll think we’re trying to attack him while he’s asleep. Let’s give it till break.”
History of Magic had rarely gone so slowly. Harry kept checking Ron’s watch, having finally discarded his own, but Ron’s was moving so slowly he could have sworn it had stopped working too. All three of them were so tired they could happily have put their heads down on the desks and slept; even Hermione wasn’t taking her usual notes, but was sitting with her head on her hand, gazing at Professor Binns with her eyes out of focus.
When the bell finally rang, they hurried out into the corridors toward the Dark Arts classroom and found Professor Moody leaving it. He looked as tired as they felt. The eyelid of his normal eye was drooping, giving his face an even more lopsided appearance than usual.
“Professor Moody?” Harry called as they made their way toward him through the crowd.
“Hello, Potter,” growled Moody. His magical eye followed a couple of passing first years, who sped up, looking nervous; it rolled into the back of Moody’s head and watched them around the corner before he spoke again.
“Come in here.”
He stood back to let them into his empty classroom, limped in after them, and closed the door.
“Did you find him?” Harry asked without preamble. “Mr. Crouch?”
“No,” said Moody. He moved over to his desk, sat down, stretched out his wooden leg with a slight groan, and pulled out his hip flask.
“Did you use the map?” Harry said.
“Of course,” said Moody, taking a swig from his flask. “Took a leaf out of your book, Potter. Summoned it from my office into the forest. He wasn’t anywhere on there.”
“So he did Disapparate?” said Ron.
“You can’t Disapparate on the grounds, Ron!” said Hermione. “There are other ways he could have disappeared, aren’t there, Professor?”
Moody’s magical eye quivered as it rested on Hermione. “You’re another one who might think about a career as an Auror,” he told her. “Mind works the right way, Granger.”
Hermione flushed pink with pleasure.
“Well, he wasn’t invisible,” said Harry. “The map shows invisible people. He must’ve left the grounds, then.”
“But under his own steam?” said Hermione eagerly, “or because someone made him?”
“Yeah, someone could’ve — could’ve pulled him onto a broom and flown off with him, couldn’t they?” said Ron quickly, looking hopefully at Moody as if he too wanted to be told he had the makings of an Auror.
“We can’t rule out kidnap,” growled Moody.
“So,” said Ron, “d’you reckon he’s somewhere in Hogsmeade?”
“Could be anywhere,” said Moody, shaking his head. “Only thing we know for sure is that he’s not here.”
He yawned widely, so that his scars stretched, and his lopsided mouth revealed a number of missing teeth. Then he said, “Now, Dumbledore’s told me you three fancy yourselves as investigators, but there’s nothing you can do for Crouch. The Ministry’ll be looking for him now, Dumbledore’s notified them. Potter, you just keep your mind on the third task.”
“What?” said Harry. “Oh yeah . . .”