They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Jungkook to wait and left him there, alone.
Jungkook looked around. One thing was certain: of all the teachers' offices Jungkook had visited so far this year, Dumbledore's was by far the most interesting. If he hadn't been scared out of his wits that he was about to be thrown out of school, he would have been very pleased to have a chance to look around it.
It was a large and beautiful circular room, full of funny little noises. A number of curious silver instruments stood on spindle-legged tables, whirring and emitting little puffs of smoke. The walls were covered with portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses, all of whom were snoozing gently in their frames. There was also an enormous, claw-footed desk, and, sitting on a shelf behind it, a shabby, tattered wizard's hat — the Sorting Hat.
Jungkook hesitated. He cast a wary eye around the sleeping witches and wizards on the walls. Surely it couldn't hurt if he took the hat down and tried it on again? Just to see . . . just to make sure it had put him in the right House —
He walked quietly around the desk, lifted the hat from its shelf, and lowered it slowly onto his head. It was much too large and slipped down over his eyes, just as it had done the last time he'd put it on. Jungkook stared at the black inside of the hat, waiting. Then a small voice said in his ear, "Bee in your bonnet, Jeon Jungkook?"
"Er, yes," Jungkook muttered. "Er — sorry to bother you — I wanted to ask —"
"You've been wondering whether I put you in the right House," said the hat smartly. "Yes . . . you were particularly difficult to place. But I stand by what I said before" — Jungkook's heart leapt — "you would have done well in Slytherin —"
Jungkook's stomach plummeted. He grabbed the point of the hat and pulled it off. It hung limply in his hand, grubby and faded. Jungkook pushed it back onto its shelf, feeling sick.
"You're wrong," he said aloud to the still and silent hat. It didn't move. Jungkook backed away, watching it. Then a strange, gagging noise behind him made him wheel around.
He wasn't alone after all. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey. Jungkook stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making its gagging noise again. Jungkook thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Jungkook watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.
Jungkook was just thinking that all he needed was for Dumbledore's pet bird to die while he was alone in the office with it, when the bird burst into flames.
Jungkook yelled in shock and backed away into the desk. He looked feverishly around in case there was a glass of water somewhere but couldn't see one; the bird, meanwhile, had become a fireball; it gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smoldering pile of ash on the floor.
The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very somber.
"Professor," Jungkook gasped. "Your bird — I couldn't do anything — he just caught fire —"
To Jungkook's astonishment, Dumbledore smiled.
"About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days; I've been telling him to get a move on."
He chuckled at the stunned look on Jungkook's face.
"Fawkes is a phoenix, Jungkook. Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him . . ."
Jungkook looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ashes. It was quite as ugly as the old one.
"It's a shame you had to see him on a Burning Day," said Dumbledore, seating himself behind his desk. "He's really very handsome most of the time, wonderful red and gold plumage. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. They can carry immensely heavy loads, their tears have healing powers, and they make highly faithful pets."
In the shock of Fawkes catching fire, Jungkook had forgotten what he was there for, but it all came back to him as Dumbledore settled himself in the high chair behind the desk and fixed Jungkook with his penetrating, light-blue stare.
Before Dumbledore could speak another word, however, the door of the office flew open with an almighty bang and Hagrid burst in, a wild look in his eyes, his balaclava perched on top of his shaggy black head and the dead rooster still swinging from his hand.
"It wasn' Jungkook, Professor Dumbledore!" said Hagrid urgently. "I was talkin' ter him seconds before that kid was found, he never had time, sir —" Dumbledore tried to say something, but Hagrid went ranting on, waving the rooster around in his agitation, sending feathers everywhere.
"— it can't've bin him, I'll swear it in front o' the Ministry o' Magic if I have to —"
"Hagrid, I —"
"— yeh've got the wrong boy, sir, I know Jungkook never —"

"Hagrid!" said Dumbledore loudly. "I do not think that Jungkook attacked those people."
"Oh," said Hagrid, the rooster falling limply at his side. "Right. I'll wait outside then, Headmaster."
And he stomped out looking embarrassed.
"You don't think it was me, Professor?" Jungkook repeated hopefully as Dumbledore brushed rooster feathers off his desk.
"No, Jungkook, I don't," said Dumbledore, though his face was somber again. "But I still want to talk to you."
Jungkook waited nervously while Dumbledore considered him, the tips of his long fingers together.
"I must ask you, Jungkook, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said gently. "Anything at all."
Jungkook didn't know what to say. He thought of Malfoy shouting, "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" and of the Polyjuice Potion simmering away in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice and remembered what Yoongi had said: "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the Wizarding world." He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his growing dread that he was somehow connected with Salazar Slytherin. . . .
"No," said Jungkook. "There isn't anything, Professor. . . ."
The double attack on Justin and Nearly Headless Nick turned what had hitherto been nervousness into real panic. Curiously, it was Nearly Headless Nick's fate that seemed to worry people most. What could possibly do that to a ghost? people asked each other; what terrible power could harm someone who was already dead? There was almost a stampede to book seats on the Hogwarts Express so that students could go home for Christmas.
"At this rate, we'll be the only ones left," Yoongi told Jungkook and Jimin. "Us, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. What a jolly holiday it's going to be."
Crabbe and Goyle, who always did whatever Malfoy did, had signed up to stay over the holidays, too. But Jungkook was glad that most people were leaving. He was tired of people skirting around him in the corridors, as though he were about to sprout fangs or spit poison; tired of all the muttering, pointing, and hissing as he passed.
Fred and Hoseok, however, found all this very funny. They went out of their way to march ahead of Jungkook down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through. . . ."
Percy was deeply disapproving of this behavior.
"It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.
"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Jungkook's in a hurry."
"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said Hoseok, chortling.
Taehyung didn't find it amusing either.
"Oh, don't," he wailed every time Fred asked Jungkook loudly who he was planning to attack next, or when Hoseok pretended to ward Jungkook off with a large clove of garlic when they met.
Jungkook didn't mind; it made him feel better that Fred and Hoseok, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.
"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Yoongi knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything, and you're getting all the credit for his dirty work."
"Not for long," said Jimin in a satisfied tone. "The Polyjuice Potion's nearly ready. We'll be getting the truth out of him any day now."

At last the term ended, and a silence deep as the snow on the grounds descended on the castle. Jungkook found it peaceful, rather than gloomy, and enjoyed the fact that he, Jimin, and the Mins had the run of Gryffindor Tower, which meant they could play Exploding Snap loudly without bothering anyone, and practice dueling in private. Fred, Hoseok, and Taehyung had chosen to stay at school rather than visit Bill in Egypt with Mr. and Mrs. Min. Percy, who disapproved of what he termed their childish behavior, didn't spend much time in the Gryffindor common room. He had already told them pompously that he was only staying over Christmas because it was his duty as a prefect to support the teachers during this troubled time.
Christmas morning dawned, cold and white. Jungkook and Yoongi, the only ones left in their dormitory, were woken very early by Jimin, who burst in, fully dressed and carrying presents for them both.
"Wake up," he said loudly, pulling back the curtains at the window.
"Jimin — you're not supposed to be in here —" said Yoongi, shielding his eyes against the light.
"Merry Christmas to you, too," said Jimin, throwing him his present. "I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

Jungkook sat up, suddenly wide awake.
"Are you sure?"
"Positive," said Jimin, shifting Scabbers the rat so that she could sit down on the end of Yoongi's four-poster. "If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."
At that moment, Hedwig swooped into the room, carrying a very small package in her beak.
"Hello," said Jungkook happily as she landed on his bed. "Are you speaking to me again?"
She nibbled his ear in an affectionate sort of way, which was a far better present than the one that she had brought him, which turned out to be from the Dursleys. They had sent Jungkook a toothpick and a note telling him to find out whether he'd be able to stay at Hogwarts for the summer vacation, too.
The rest of Jungkook's Christmas presents were far more satisfactory. Hagrid had sent him a large tin of treacle toffee, which Jungkook decided to soften by the fire before eating; Yoongi had given him a book called Flying with the Cannons, a book of interesting facts about his favorite Quidditch team, and Jimin had bought him a luxury eagle-feather quill. Jungkook opened the last present to find a new, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Min and a large plum cake. He read her card with a fresh surge of guilt, thinking about Mr. Min's car (which hadn't been seen since its crash with the Whomping Willow), and the bout of rule-breaking he and Yoongi were planning next.

No one, not even someone dreading taking Polyjuice Potion later, could fail to enjoy Christmas dinner at Hogwarts.
The Great Hall looked magnificent. Not only were there a dozen frost- covered Christmas trees and thick streamers of holly and mistletoe crisscrossing the ceiling, but enchanted snow was falling, warm and dry, from the ceiling. Dumbledore led them in a few of his favorite carols, Hagrid booming more and more loudly with every goblet of eggnog he consumed. Percy, who hadn't noticed that Fred had bewitched his prefect badge so that it now read "Pinhead," kept asking them all what they were sniggering at. Jungkook didn't even care that Draco Malfoy was making loud, snide remarks about his new sweater from the Slytherin table. With a bit of luck, Malfoy would be getting his comeuppance in a few hours' time.
Jungkook and Yoongi had barely finished their third helpings of Christmas pudding when Jimin ushered them out of the hall to finalize their plans for the evening.
"We still need a bit of the people you're changing into," said Jimin matter-of-factly, as though he were sending them to the supermarket for laundry detergent. "And obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him.
"I've got it all worked out," he went on smoothly, ignoring Jungkook's and Yoongi's stupefied faces. He held up two plump chocolate cakes. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."
Jungkook and Yoongi looked incredulously at each other.
"Jimin, I don't think —"
"That could go seriously wrong —"
But Jimin had a steely glint in her eye not unlike the one Professor McGonagall sometimes had.
"The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair," he said sternly. "You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"
"Oh, all right, all right," said Jungkook. "But what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"
"I've already got mine!" said Jimin brightly, pulling a tiny bottle out of his pocket and showing them the single hair inside it. "Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas — so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back."
When Jimin had bustled off to check on the Polyjuice Potion again, Yoongi turned to Jungkook with a doom-laden expression.
"Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?"
But to Jungkook's and Yoongi's utter amazement, stage one of the operation went just as smoothly as Jimin had said. They lurked in the deserted entrance hall after Christmas tea, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle who had remained alone at the Slytherin table, shoveling down fourth helpings of trifle. Jungkook had perched the chocolate cakes on the end of the banisters. When they spotted Crabbe and Goyle coming out of the Great Hall, Jungkook and Yoongi hid quickly behind a suit of armor next to the front door.
"How thick can you get?" Yoongi whispered ecstatically as Crabbe gleefully pointed out the cakes to Goyle and grabbed them. Grinning stupidly, they stuffed the cakes whole into their large mouths. For a moment, both of them chewed greedily, looks of triumph on their faces. Then, without the smallest change of expression, they both keeled over backward onto the floor.
By far the hardest part was hiding them in the closet across the hall. Once they were safely stowed among the buckets and mops, Jungkook yanked out a couple of the bristles that covered Goyle's forehead and Yoongi pulled out several of Crabbe's hairs. They also stole their shoes, because their own were far too small for Crabbe- and Goyle-size feet. Then, still stunned at what they had just done, they sprinted up to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
They could hardly see for the thick black smoke issuing from the stall in which Jimin was stirring the cauldron. Pulling their robes up over their faces, Jungkook and Yoongi knocked softly on the door.
"Jimin?"
They heard the scrape of the lock and Jimin emerged, shiny-faced and looking anxious. Behind him they heard the gloop gloop of the bubbling, glutinous potion. Three glass tumblers stood ready on the toilet seat.

"Did you get them?" Jimin asked breathlessly.
Jungkook showed him Goyle's hair.
"Good. And I sneaked these spare robes out of the laundry," Jimin said, holding up a small sack. "You'll need bigger sizes once you're Crabbe and Goyle."
The three of them stared into the cauldron. Close up, the potion looked like thick, dark mud, bubbling sluggishly.
"I'm sure I've done everything right," said Jimin, nervously rereading the splotched page of Moste Potente Potions. "It looks like the book says it should . . . once we've drunk it, we'll have exactly an hour before we change back into ourselves."
"Now what?" Yoongi whispered.
"We separate it into three glasses and add the hairs."
Jimin ladled large dollops of the potion into each of the glasses.
Then, her hand trembling, he shook Millicent Bulstrode's hair out of its bottle into the first glass.
The potion hissed loudly like a boiling kettle and frothed madly. A second later, it had turned a sick sort of yellow.
"Urgh — essence of Millicent Bulstrode," said Yoongi, eyeing it with loathing. "Bet it tastes disgusting."
"Add yours, then," said Jimin.
Jungkook dropped Goyle's hair into the middle glass and Yoongi put Crabbe's into the last one. Both glasses hissed and frothed: Goyle's turned the khaki color of a booger, Crabbe's a dark, murky brown.
"Hang on," said Jungkook as Yoongi and Jimin reached for their glasses. "We'd better not all drink them in here. . . . Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."
"Good thinking," said Yoongi, unlocking the door. "We'll take separate stalls."
Careful not to spill a drop of his Polyjuice Potion, Jungkook slipped into the middle stall.
"Ready?" he called.
"Ready," came Yoongi's and Jimin's voices.
"One — two — three —"
Pinching his nose, Jungkook drank the potion down in two large gulps. It tasted like overcooked cabbage.
Immediately, his insides started writhing as though he'd just swallowed live snakes — doubled up, he wondered whether he was going to be sick — then a burning sensation spread rapidly from his stomach to the very ends of his fingers and toes — next, bringing him gasping to all fours, came a horrible melting feeling, as the skin all over his body bubbled like hot wax — and before his eyes, his hands began to grow, the fingers thickened, the nails broadened, the knuckles were bulging like bolts — his shoulders stretched painfully and a prickling on his forehead told him that hair was creeping down toward his eyebrows — his robes ripped as his chest expanded like a barrel bursting its hoops — his feet were agony in shoes four sizes too small —
As suddenly as it had started, everything stopped. Jungkook lay facedown on the stone-cold floor, listening to Myrtle gurgling morosely in the end toilet. With difficulty, he kicked off his shoes and stood up. So this was what it felt like, being Goyle. His large hand trembling, he pulled off his old robes, which were hanging a foot above his ankles, pulled on the spare ones, and laced up Goyle's boatlike shoes. He reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes and met only the short growth of wiry bristles, low on his forehead. Then he realized that his glasses were clouding his eyes because Goyle obviously didn't need them — he took them off and called, "Are you two okay?" Goyle's low rasp of a voice issued from his mouth.
"Yeah," came the deep grunt of Crabbe from his right.
Jungkook unlocked his door and stepped in front of the cracked mirror. Goyle stared back at him out of dull, deepset eyes. Jungkook scratched his ear. So did Goyle.
Yoongi's door opened. They stared at each other. Except that he looked pale and shocked, Yoongi was indistinguishable from Crabbe, from the pudding- bowl haircut to the long, gorilla arms.
"This is unbelievable," said Yoongi, approaching the mirror and prodding Crabbe's flat nose. "Unbelievable."
"We'd better get going," said Jungkook, loosening the watch that was cutting into Goyle's thick wrist. "We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow . . ."
Yoongi, who had been gazing at Jungkook, said, "You