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¡°First Hogsmeade weekend,¡± said Ron, pointing at a notice that had appeared on the battered old bulletin board. ¡°End of October. Halloween.¡±

¡°Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,¡± he said. ¡°Only one out of three, I'm afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead. An odd shiver passed over his face. ¡°But I won't deny that I am a werewolf.¡±

¡°See?¡± Hermione whispered. ¡°See what would have happened? We've got to keep out of sight! No, Buckbeak!¡±

¡°You haven't been hiding from me for twelve years,¡± said Black. ¡°You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter¡­They all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them¡­I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters¡¯ on your information¡­and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways. If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter ¡ª¡±

¡°And why should I do that?¡± sneered Uncle Vernon.

¡°May I?¡± said Professor McGonagall, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt out of their hands. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. ¡°Hmm. And there was no note at all, Potter? No card? No message of any kind?¡±

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