The Owlery door opened behind him. He leapt in shock and, turning quickly, saw Cho Chang holding a letter and a parcel in her hands.
‘Hi,’ said Harry automatically.
‘Oh ... hi,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I didn’t think anyone would be up here this early ... I only remembered five minutes ago, it’s my mum’s birthday.’
She held up the parcel.
‘Right,’ said Harry. His brain seemed to have jammed. He wanted to say something funny and interesting, but the memory of that terrible winged horse was fresh in his mind.
‘Nice day,’ he said, gesturing to the windows. His insides seemed to shrivel with embarrassment. The weather. He was talking about the weather ...
‘Yeah,’ said Cho, looking around for a suitable owl. ‘Good Quidditch conditions. I haven’t been out all week, have you?’
‘No,’ said Harry.
Cho had selected one of the school barn owls. She coaxed it down on to her arm where it held out an obliging leg so that she could attach the parcel.
‘Hey, has Gryffindor got a new Keeper yet?’ she asked.
‘Yeah,’ said Harry. ‘It’s my friend Ron Weasley, d’you know him?’
‘The Tornados-hater?’ said Cho rather coolly. ‘Is he any good?’
‘Yeah,’ said Harry, ‘I think so. I didn’t see his tryout, though, I was in detention.’
Cho looked up, the parcel only half-attached to the owl’s legs.
‘That Umbridge woman’s foul,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Putting you in detention just because you told the truth about how – how – how he died. Everyone heard about it, it was all over the school. You were really brave standing up to her like that.’
Harry’s insides re-inflated so rapidly he felt as though he might actually float a few inches off the dropping-strewn floor. Who cared about a stupid flying horse; Cho thought he had been really brave. For a moment, he considered accidentally-on-purpose showing her his cut hand as he helped her tie her parcel on to her owl ... but the very instant this thrilling thought occurred, the Owlery door opened again.
Filch the caretaker came wheezing into the room. There were purple patches on his sunken, veined cheeks, his jowls were aquiver and his thin grey hair dishevelled; he had obviously run here. Mrs Norris came trotting at his heels, gazing up at the owls overhead and mewing hungrily. There was a restless shifting of wings from above and a large brown owl snapped his beak in a menacing fashion.
‘Aha!’ said Filch, taking a flat-footed step towards Harry, his pouchy cheeks trembling with anger. ‘I’ve had a tip-off that you are intending to place a massive order for Dungbombs!’
Harry folded his arms and stared at the caretaker.
‘Who told you I was ordering Dungbombs?’
Cho was looking from Harry to Filch, also frowning; the barn owl on her arm, tired of standing on one leg, gave an admonitory hoot but she ignored it.