“I’ve told you, he wasn’t making much sense,” said Harry. “He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault . . . He mentioned his son.”

“Well, that was his fault,” said Hermione testily.

“He was out of his mind,” said Harry. “Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.”

“And . . . remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?” said Ron tentatively.

“I’ve told you,” Harry repeated dully. “He said he’s getting stronger.”

There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, “But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving . . . ”

“He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort,” said Harry, and Ron winced at the sound of the name. “He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore.”

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches were half-empty; every now and then, another owl would swoop in through one of the windows, returning from its night’s hunting with a mouse in its beak.

“If Snape hadn’t held me up,” Harry said bitterly, “we might’ve got there in time. ‘The headmaster is busy, Potter . . . what’s this rubbish, Potter?’ Why couldn’t he have just got out of the way?”

“Maybe he didn’t want you to get there!” said Ron quickly. “Maybe—hang on—how fast d’you reckon he could’ve gotten down to the forest? D’you reckon he could’ve beaten you and Dumbledore there?”

“Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,” said Harry.

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Ron muttered.

“We need to see Professor Moody,” said Hermione. “We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch.”

“If he had the Marauder’s Map on him, it would’ve been easy,” said Harry.

“Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,” said Ron, “because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn’t—”

“Shh!” said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Harry could hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

“—that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that—”

“—we’ve tried being polite; it’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did—”

“I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail!”

“Yeah, and you won’t be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?”