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Maniacal laughter was ringing in his ears： he was happier than he had been in a very long time： jubilant； ecstatic； triumphant： a wonderful； wonderful thing had happened：
'Harry？ HARRY！'
Someone had hit him around the face。 The insane laughter was punctuated with a cry of pain。 The happiness was draining out of him； but the laughter continued：
He opened his eyes and； as he did so； he became aware that the wild laughter was ing out of his own mouth。 The moment he realised this； it died away； Harry lay panting on the floor； staring up at the ceiling； the scar on his forehead throbbing horribly。 Ron was bending over him； looking very worried。
'What happened？' he said。
'I： dunno：' Harry gasped； sitting up again。 'He's really happy： really happy：〃
'You…Know…Who is？'
'Something good's happened；' mumbled Harry。 He was shaking as badly as he had done after seeing the snake attack Mr Weasley and felt very sick。 'Something he's been hoping for。'
The words came； just as they had back in the Gryffindor changing room； as though a stranger was speaking them through Harry's mouth； yet he knew they were true。 He took deep breaths； willing himself not to vomit all over Ron。 He was very glad that Dean and Seamus were not here to watch this time。
'Hermione told me to e and check on you；' said Ron in a low voice； helping Harry to his feet。 'She says your defences will be low at the moment； after Snape's been fiddling around with your mind： still； I suppose it'll help in the long run； won't it？' He looked doubtfully at Harry as he helped him towards his bed。 Harry nodded without any conviction and slumped back on his pillows； aching all over from having fallen to the floor so often that evening； his scar still prickling painfully。 He could not help feeling that his first foray into Occlumency had weakened his mind's resistance rather than strengthening it； and he wondered； with a feeling of great trepidation； what had happened to make Lord Voldemort the happiest he had been in fourteen years。
… CHAPTER TWENTY…FIVE …
The Beetle at Bay
Harry's question was answered the very next morning。 When Hermione's Daily Prophet arrived she smoothed it out； gazed for a moment at the front page and gave a yelp that caused everyone in the vicinity to stare at her。
'What？' said Harry and Ron together。
For answer she spread the newspaper on the table in front of them and pointed at ten black…and…white photographs that filled the whole of the front page； nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth； a witch's。 Some of the people in the photographs were silently jeering； others were tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures； looking insolent。 Each picture was captioned with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban。
Antonin Dolohov； read the legend beneath a wizard with a long； pale； twisted face who was sneering up at Harry； convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett。
Algernon Rookwood； said the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who was leaning against the edge of his picture； looking bored； convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named。
But Harry's eyes were drawn to the picture of the witch。 Her face had leapt out at him the moment he had seen the page。 She had long； dark hair that looked unkempt and straggly in the picture； though he had seen it sleek； thick and shining。 She glared up at him through heavily lidded eyes； an arrogant； disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth。 Like Sirius； she retained vestiges of great good looks； but something … perhaps Azkaban … had taken most of her beauty。
Bellatrix Lestrange； convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom。
Hermione nudged Harry and pointed at the headline over the pictures； which Harry； concentrating on Bellatrix； had not yet read。
MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN
MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT'
FOR OLD DEATH EATERS
'Black？' said Harry loudly。 'Not …？'
'Shhh！' whispered Hermione desperately。 'Not so loud … just read it！'
The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban。
Speaking to reporters in his private office； Cornelius Fudge； Minister for Magic； confirmed that ten high…security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals。
'We find ourselves； most unfortunately； in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sinus Black escaped；' said Fudge last night。 'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated。 An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help； and we must remember that Black； as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban； would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps。 We think it likely that these individuals； who include Black's cousin； Bellatrix Lestrange； have rallied around Black as their leader。 We are； however； doing all we can to round up the criminals； and we beg the magical munity to remain alert and cautious。 On no account should any of these individuals be approached。'
There you are； Harry；' said Ron； looking awestruck。 That's why he was happy last night。'
'I don't believe this；' snarled Harry； 'Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sinus？'
'What other options does he have？' said Hermione bitterly。 'He can hardly say； 〃Sorry； everyone； Dumbledore warned me this might happen； the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort〃 … stop whimpering； Ron … 〃and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out； too。〃 I mean； he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars； hasn't he？'
Hermione ripped open the newspaper and began to read the report inside while Harry looked around the Great Hall。 He could not understand why his fellow students were not looking scared or at least discussing the terrible piece of news on the front page； but very few of them took the newspaper every day like Hermione。 There they all were； talking about homework and Quidditch and who knew what other rubbish； when outside these walls ten more Death Eaters had swollen Voldemort's ranks。
He glanced up at the staff table。 It was a different story there： Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were deep in conversation； both looking extremely grave。 Professor Sprout had the Prophet propped against a bottle of ketchup and was reading the front page with such concentration that she was not noticing the gentle drip of egg yolk falling into her lap from her stationary spoon。 Meanwhile； at the far end of the table； Professor Umbridge was tucking into a bowl of porridge。 For once her pouchy toad's eyes were not sweeping the Great Hall looking for misbehaving students。 She scowled as she gulped down her food and every now and then she shot a malevolent glance up the table to where Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking so intently。
'Oh my …' said Hermione wonderingly； still staring at the newspaper。
'What now？' said Harry quickly； he was feeling jumpy。
'It's： horrible；' said Hermione； looking shaken。 She folded back page ten of the newspaper and handed it to Harry and Ron。
TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER St Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode； 49； was discovered dead in his 。 bed； strangled by a pot plant。 Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode； who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death。
Healer Miriam Strout； who was in charge of Mr Bodes ward at the time of the incident； has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for ment yesterday； but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement：
'St Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr Bode； whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident。
'We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout； busy over the Christmas period； overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table。 As his speech and mobility improved； Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself； unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom； but a cutting of Devil's Snare which； when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode； throttled him instantly。
'St Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to e forward。'
'Bode：' said Ron。 'Bode。 It rings a bell：'
'We saw him；' Hermione whispered。 'In St Mungo's； remember？ He was in the bed opposite Lockhart's； just lying there； staring at the ceiling。 And we saw the Devil's Snare arrive。 She … the Healer … said it was a Christmas present。'
Harry looked back at the story。 A feeling of horror was rising like bile in his throat。
'How e we didn't recognise Devils Snare？ We've seen it before： we could've stopped this from happening。'
'Who expects Devils Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a pot plant？' said Ron sharply。 'It's not our