Untitled Part 9
Dumbledore's abrupt departure took Harry completely bysurprise. He remained sitting where he was in the chainedchair, struggling with his feelings of shock and relief. TheWizengamot were all getting to their feet, talking, andgathering up their papers and packing them away. Harrystood up. Nobody seemed to be paying him the slightest bitof attention except the toadlike witch on Fudge's right, whowas now gazing down at him instead of at Dumbledore.Ignoring her, he tried to catch Fudge's eye, or MadamBones's, wanting to ask whether he was free to go, butFudge seemed quite determined not to notice Harry, andMadam Bones was busy with her briefcase, so he took a fewtentative steps toward the exit and when nobody called himback, broke into a very fast walk.
He took the last few steps at a run, wrenched open thedoor, and almost collided with Mr. Weasley, who wasstanding right outside, looking pale and apprehensive.
"Dumbledore didn't say —"
"Cleared," Harry said, pulling the door closed behind him,"of all charges!"
Beaming, Mr. Weasley seized Harry by the shoulders.
"Harry, that's wonderful! Well, of course, they couldn'thave found you guilty, not on the evidence, but even so, Ican't pretend I wasn't —"
But Mr. Weasley broke off, because the courtroom doorhad just opened again. The Wizengamot were filing out.
"Merlin's beard," said Mr. Weasley wonderingly, pullingHarry aside to let them all pass, "you were tried by the fullcourt?"
"I think so," said Harry quietly.
One or two of the passing wizards nodded to Harry asthey passed and a few, including Madam Bones, said,"Morning, Arthur," to Mr. Weasley, but most averted theireyes. Cornelius Fudge and the toadlike witch were almostthe last to leave the dungeon. Fudge acted as though Mr.Weasley and Harry were part of the wall, but again, thewitch looked almost appraisingly at Harry as she passed.Last of all to pass was Percy. Like Fudge, he completelyignored his father and Harry; he marched past clutching alarge roll of parchment and a handful of spare quills, hisback rigid and his nose in the air. The lines around Mr.Weasley's mouth tightened slightly, but other than this hegave no sign that he had noticed his third son.
"I'm going to take you straight back so you can tell theothers the good news," he said, beckoning Harry forward asPercy's heels disappeared up the stairs to the ninth level.I'll drop you off on the way to that toilet in Bethnal Green.Come on. ..."
"So what will you have to do about the toilet?" Harryasked, grinning. Everything suddenly seemed five timesfunnier than usual. It was starting to sink in: He wascleared, he was going back to Hogwarts.
"Oh, it's a simple enough anti-jinx," said Mr. Weasley asthey mounted the stairs, "but it's not so much having torepair the damage, it's more the attitude behind thevandalism, Harry. Muggle-baiting might strike somewizards as funny, but it's an expression of something muchdeeper and nastier, and I for one —"
Mr. Weasley broke off in mid-sentence. They had justreached the ninth-level corridor, and Cornelius Fudge wasstanding a few feet away from them, talking quietly to a tallman with sleek blond hair and a pointed, pale face.
The second man turned at the sound of their footsteps. Hetoo broke off in mid-conversation, his cold gray eyesnarrowed and fixed upon Harry's face.
"Well, well, well ... Patronus Potter," said Lucius Malfoycoolly.
Harry felt winded, as though he had just walked intosomething heavy. He had last seen those cool gray eyesthrough slits in a Death Eater's hood, and last heard thatman's voice jeering in a dark graveyard while LordVoldemort tortured him. He could not believe that LuciusMalfoy dared look him in the face; he could not believe thathe was here, in the Ministry of Magic, or that CorneliusFudge was talking to him, when Harry had told Fudge mereweeks ago that Malfoy was a Death Eater.
"The Minister was just telling me about your lucky escape,Potter," drawled Mr. Malfoy. "Quite astonishing, the way youcontinue to wriggle out of very tight holes. ... Snakelike, infact ..."
Mr. Weasley gripped Harry's shoulder in warning.
"Yeah," said Harry, "yeah, I'm good at escaping. ..."
Lucius Malfoy raised his eyes to Mr. Weasley's face.
"And Arthur Weasley too! What are you doing here,Arthur?"
"I work here," said Mr. Weasley shortly.
"Not here, surely?" said Mr. Malfoy, raising his eyebrowsand glancing toward the door over Mr. Weasley's shoulder."I thought you were up on the second floor. ... Don't you dosomething that involves sneaking Muggle artifacts homeand bewitching them?"
"No," said Mr. Weasley curtly, his fingers now biting intoHarry's shoulder.
"What are you doing here anyway?" Harry asked LuciusMalfoy.
"I don't think private matters between myself and theMinister are any concern of yours, Potter," said Malfoy,smoothing the front of his robes; Harry distinctly heard thegentle clinking of what sounded like a full pocket of gold."Really, just because you are Dumbledore's favorite boy, youmust not expect the same indulgence from the rest of us. ...Shall we go up to your office, then, Minister?"
"Certainly," said Fudge, turning his back on Harry andMr. Weasley. "This way, Lucius."
They strode off together, talking in low voices. Mr.Weasley did not let go of Harry's shoulder until they haddisappeared into the lift.
"Why wasn't he waiting outside Fudge's office if they'vegot business to do together?" Harry burst out furiously."What was he doing down here?"
"Trying to sneak down to the courtroom, if you ask me,"said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely agitated as he glancedover his shoulder as though making sure they could not beoverheard. "Trying to find out whether you'd been expelledor not. I'll leave a note for Dumbledore when I drop you off,he ought to know Malfoy's been talking to Fudge again."
"What private business have they got together anyway?"
"Gold, I expect," said Mr. Weasley angrily. "Malfoy's beengiving generously to all sorts of things for years. ... Gets himin with the right people ... then he can ask favors ... delaylaws he doesn't want passed ... Oh, he's very wellconnected, Lucius Malfoy. ..."
The lift arrived; it was empty except for a flock of memosthat flapped around Mr. Weasley's head as he pressed thebutton for the Atrium and the doors clanged shut; he wavedthem away irritably.
"Mr. Weasley," said Harry slowly, "if Fudge is meetingDeath Eaters like Malfoy, if he's seeing them alone, how dowe know they haven't put the Imperius Curse on him?"
"Don't think it hadn't occurred to us, Harry," mutteredMr. Weasley. "But Dumbledore thinks Fudge is acting of hisown accord at the moment — which, as Dumbledore says, isnot a lot of comfort. ... Best not talk about it anymore justnow, Harry. ..."
The doors slid open and they stepped out into the nowalmost-deserted Atrium. Eric the security man was hiddenbehind his Daily Prophet again. They had walked straightpast the golden fountain before Harry remembered.
"Wait. ..." he told Mr. Weasley, and pulling his money bagfrom his pocket, he turned back to the fountain.
He looked up into the handsome wizard's face, but upclose, Harry thought he looked rather weak and foolish. Thewitch was wearing a vapid smile like a beauty contestant,and from what Harry knew of goblins and centaurs, theywere most unlikely to be caught staring this soppily athumans of any description. Only the house-elf's attitude ofcreeping servility looked convincing. With a grin at thethought of what Hermione would say if she could see thestatue of the elf, Harry turned his money bag upside downand emptied not just ten Galleons, but the whole contentsinto the pool at the statues' feet
"I knew it!" yelled Ron, punching the air. "You always getaway with stuff!"
"They were bound to clear you," said Hermione, who hadlooked positively faint with anxiety when Harry had enteredthe kitchen and was now holding a shaking hand over hereyes. "There was no case against you, none at all. ..."
"Everyone seems quite relieved, though, considering theyall knew I'd get off," said Harry, smiling.Mrs. Weasley was wiping her face on her apron, and Fred,George, and Ginny were doing a kind of war dance to achant that went "He got off, he got off, he got off —"
"That's enough, settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley,though he too was smiling.
"Listen, Sirius, Lucius Malfoywas at the Ministry —"
"What?" said Sirius sharply.
"He got off, he got off, he got off —"
"Be quiet, you three! Yes, we saw him talking to Fudge onlevel nine, then they went up to Fudge's office together.Dumbledore ought to know."
"Absolutely," said Sirius. "We'll tell him, don't worry."
"Well, I'd better get going, there's a vomiting toilet inBethnal Green waiting for me. Molly, I'll be late, I'mcovering for Tonks, but Kingsley might be dropping in fordinner —"
"He got off, he got off, he got off —"
"That's enough — Fred — George — Ginny!" said Mrs.Weasley, as Mr. Weasley left the kitchen. "Harry dear, comeand sit down, have some lunch, you hardly ate breakfast...."
Ron and Hermione sat themselves down opposite himlooking happier than they had done since he had firstarrived at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Harry'sfeeling of giddy relief, which had been somewhat dented byhis encounter with Lucius Malfoy, swelled again. Thegloomy house seemed warmer and more welcoming all of asudden; even Kreacher looked less ugly as he poked hissnoutlike nose into the kitchen to investigate the source ofall the noise.
" 'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, therewas no way they were going to convict you," said Ronhappily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potatoes ontoeveryone's plates.
"Yeah, he swung it for me," said Harry. He felt that itwould sound highly ungrateful, not to mention childish, tosay, "I wish he'd talked to me, though. Or even looked atme."
And as he thought this, the scar on his forehead burnedso badly that he clapped his hand to it.
"What's up?" said Hermione, looking alarmed.
"Scar," Harry mumbled. "But it's nothing. ... It happensall the time now. ..."
None of the others had noticed a thing; all of them werenow helping themselves to food while gloating over Harry'snarrow escape; Fred, George, and Ginny were still singing.Hermione looked rather anxious, but before she could sayanything, Ron said happily, "I bet Dumbledore turns up thisevening to celebrate with us, you know."
"I don't think he'll be able to, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley,setting a huge plate of roast chicken down in front of Harry."He's really very busy at the moment."
"HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF, HE GOT OFF —"
"SHUT UP!" roared Mrs. Weasley.
Over the next few days Harry could not help noticing thatthere was one person within number twelve, GrimmauldPlace, who did not seem wholly overjoyed that he would bereturning to Hogwarts. Sirius had put up a very good showof happiness on first hearing the news, wringing Harry'shand and beaming just like the rest of them; soon, however,he was moodier and surlier than before, talking less toeverybody, even Harry, and spending increasing amounts oftime shut up in his mother's room with Buckbeak.
"Don't you go feeling guilty!" said Hermione sternly, afterHarry had confided some of his feelings to her and Ronwhile they scrubbed out a moldy cupboard on the thirdfloor a few days later. "You belong at Hogwarts and Siriusknows it. Personally, I think he's being selfish."
"That's a bit harsh, Hermione," said Ron, frowning as heattempted to prize off a bit of mold that had attached itselffirmly to his finger, "you wouldn't want to be stuck insidethis house without company."
"He'll have company!" said Hermione. "It's headquartersto the Order of the Phoenix, isn't it? He just got his hopesup that Harry would be coming to live here with him."
"I don't think that's true," said Harry, wringing out hiscloth. "He wouldn't give me a straight answer when I askedhim if I could."
"He just didn't want to get his own hopes up even more,"said Hermione wisely. "And he probably felt a bit guiltyhimself, because I think a part of him was really hopingyou'd be expelled. Then you'd both be outcasts together."
"Come off it!" said Harry and Ron together, but Hermionemerely shrugged.
"Suit yourselves. But I sometimes think Ron's mum'sright, and Sirius gets confused about whether you're you oryour father, Harry.""So you think he's touched in the head?" said Harryheatedly.
"No, I just think he's been very lonely for a long time,"said Hermione simply.
At this point Mrs. Weasley entered the bedroom behindthem.
"Still not finished?" she said, poking her head into thecupboard.
"I thought you might be here to tell us to have a break!"said Ron bitterly. "D'you know how much mold we've got ridof since we arrived here?"
"You were so keen to help the Order," said Mrs. Weasley,"you can do your bit by making headquarters fit to live in."
"I feel like a house-elf," grumbled Ron.
"Well, now that you understand what dreadful lives theylead, perhaps you'll be a bit more active in S.P.E.W.!" saidHermione hopefully, as Mrs. Weasley left them to it again."You know, maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to show peopleexactly how horrible it is to clean all the time — we could doa sponsored scrub of Gryffindor common room, all proceedsto S.P.E.W., it would raise awareness as well as funds —"
"I'll sponsor you to shut up about spew," Ron mutteredirritably, but only so Harry could hear him.
Harry found himself daydreaming about Hogwarts moreand more as the end of the holidays approached; he couldnot wait to see Hagrid again, to play Quidditch, even tostroll across the vegetable patches to the Herbologygreenhouses. It would be a treat just to leave this dusty,musty house, where half of the cupboards were still boltedshut and Kreacher wheezed insults out of the shadows asyou passed, though Harry was careful not to say any of thiswithin earshot of Sirius.
The fact was that living at the headquarters of the antiVoldemort movement was not nearly as interesting orexciting as Harry would have expected before he'dexperienced it. Though members of the Order of thePhoenix came and went regularly, sometimes staying formeals, sometimes only for a few minutes' whisperedconversation, Mrs. Weasley made sure that Harry and theothers were kept well out of earshot (whether Extendableor normal) and nobody, not even Sirius, seemed to feel thatHarry needed to know anything more than he had heard onthe night of his arrival.
On the very last day of the holidays Harry was sweepingup Hedwig's owl droppings from the top of the wardrobewhen Ron entered their bedroom carrying a couple ofenvelopes.
"Booklists have arrived," he said, throwing one of theenvelopes up to Harry, who was standing on a chair. "Abouttime, I thought they'd forgotten, they usually come muchearlier than this. ..."
Harry swept the last of the droppings into a rubbish bagand threw the bag over Ron's head into the wastepaperbasket in the corner, which swallowed it and belched loudly.He then opened his letter: It contained two pieces ofparchment, one the usual reminder that term started onthe first of September, the other telling him which books hewould need for the coming year.
"Only two new ones," he said, reading the list. "TheStandard Book of Spells, Grade 5, by Miranda Goshawk andDefensive Magical Theory, by Wilbert Slinkhard."
Crack.
Fred and George Apparated right beside Harry. He wasso used to them doing this by now that he didn't even fall offhis chair.
"We were just wondering who assigned the Slinkhardbook," said Fred conversationally.
"Because it means Dumbledore's found a new DefenseAgainst the Dark Arts teacher," said George.
"And about time too," said Fred.
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked, jumping down besidethem.
"Well, we overheard Mum and Dad talking on theExtendable Ears a few weeks back," Fred told Harry, "andfrom what they were saying, Dumbledore was having realtrouble finding anyone to do the job this year."
"Not surprising, is it, when you look at what's happenedto the last four?" said George.
"One sacked, one dead, one's memory removed, and onelocked in a trunk for nine months," said Harry, countingthem off on his fingers. "Yeah, I see what you mean."
"What's up with you, Ron?" asked Fred.
Ron did not answer. Harry looked around. Ron wasstanding very still with his mouth slightly open, gaping athis letter from Hogwarts.
"What's the matter?" said Fred impatiently, movingaround Ron to look over his shoulder at the parchment.
Fred's mouth fell open too.
"Prefect?" he said, staring incredulously at the letter."Prefect?"
George leapt forward, seized the envelope in Ron's otherhand, and turned it upside down. Harry saw somethingscarlet and gold fall into George's palm.
"No way," said George in a hushed voice.
"There's been a mistake," said Fred, snatching the letterout of Ron's grasp and holding it up to the light as thoughchecking for a watermark. "No one in their right mindwould make Ron a prefect. ..."
The twins' heads turned in unison and both of themstared at Harry.
"We thought you were a cert!" said Fred in a tone thatsuggested Harry had tricked them in some way.
"We thought Dumbledore was bound to pick you!" saidGeorge indignantly.
"Winning the Triwizard and everything!" said Fred.
"I suppose all the mad stuff must've counted against him,"said George to Fred.
"Yeah," said Fred slowly. "Yeah, you've caused too muchtrouble, mate. Well, at least one of you's got their prioritiesright."
He strode over to Harry and clapped him on the backwhile giving Ron a scathing look.
"Prefect ... ickle Ronnie the prefect ..."
"Oh, Mum's going to be revolting," groaned George,thrusting the prefect badge back at Ron as though it mightcontaminate him.
Ron, who still had not said a word, took the badge, staredat it for a moment, and then held it out to Harry as thoughasking mutely for confirmation that it was genuine. Harrytook it. A large P was superimposed on the Gryffindor lion.He had seen a badge just like this on Percy's chest on hisvery first day at Hogwarts.
The door banged open. Hermione came tearing into theroom, her cheeks flushed and her hair flying. There was anenvelope in her hand.
"Did you — did you get — ?"She spotted the badge in Harry's hand and let out ashriek.
"I knew it!" she said excitedly, brandishing her letter. "Metoo, Harry, me too!"
"No," said Harry quickly, pushing the badge back intoRon's hand. "It's Ron, not me."
"It — what?"
"Ron's prefect, not me," Harry said
"Ron?" said Hermione, her jaw dropping. "But ... are yousure? I mean —"
She turned red as Ron looked around at her with adefiant expression on his face.
"It's my name on the letter," he said.
"I ..." said Hermione, looking thoroughly bewildered. "I ...well ... wow! Well done, Ron! That's really —"
"Unexpected," said George, nodding.
"No," said Hermione, blushing harder than ever, "no, it'snot ... Ron's done loads of ... he's really ..."
The door behind her opened a little wider and Mrs.Weasley backed into the room carrying a pile of freshlylaundered robes.
"Ginny said the booklists had come at last," she said,glancing around at all the envelopes as she made her wayover to the bed and started sorting the robes into two piles."If you give them to me I'll take them over to Diagon Alleythis afternoon and get your books while you're packing.Ron, I'll have to get you more pajamas, these are at least sixinches too short, I can't believe how fast you're growing ...what color would you like?"
"Get him red and gold to match his badge," said George,smirking.
"Match his what?" said Mrs. Weasley absently, rolling up apair of maroon socks and placing them on Ron's pile.
"His badge," said Fred, with the air of getting the worstover quickly. "His lovely shiny new prefect's badge."
Fred's words took a moment to penetrate Mrs. Weasley'spreoccupation about pajamas.
"His ... but ... Ron, you're not... ?"
Ron held up his badge.
Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek just like Hermione's.
"I don't believe it! I don't believe it! Oh, Ron, howwonderful! A prefect! That's everyone in the family!"
"What are Fred and I, next-door neighbors?" said Georgeindignantly, as his mother pushed him aside and flung herarms around her youngest son.
"Wait until your father hears! Ron, I'm so proud of you,what wonderful news, you could end up Head Boy just likeBill and Percy, it's the first step! Oh, what a thing to happenin the middle of all this worry, I'm just thrilled, oh Ronnie—"
Fred and George were both making loud retching noisesbehind her back but Mrs. Weasley did not notice; arms tightaround Ron's neck, she was kissing him all over his face,which had turned a brighter scarlet than his badge.
"Mum ... don't ... Mum, get a grip. ..." he muttered, tryingto push her away.
She let go of him and said breathlessly, "Well, what will itbe? We gave Percy an owl, but you've already got one, ofcourse."
"W-what do you mean?" said Ron, looking as though hedid not dare believe his ears.
"You've got to have a reward for this!" said Mrs. Weasleyfondly. "How about a nice new set of dress robes?"
"We've already bought him some," said Fred sourly, wholooked as though he sincerely regretted this generosity.
"Or a new cauldron, Charlie's old one's rusting through,or a new rat, you always liked Scabbers —"
"Mum," said Ron hopefully, "can I have a new broom?"
Mrs. Weasley's face fell slightly; broomsticks wereexpensive.
"Not a really good one!" Ron hastened to add. "Just — justa new one for a change ..."
Mrs. Weasley hesitated, then smiled.
"Of course you can. ... Well, I'd better get going if I've gota broom to buy too. I'll see you all later. ... Little Ronnie, aprefect! And don't forget to pack your trunks. ... A prefect... Oh, I'm all of a dither!"
She gave Ron yet another kiss on the cheek, sniffedloudly, and bustled from the room.
Fred and George exchanged looks.
"You don't mind if we don't kiss you, do you, Ron?" saidFred in a falsely anxious voice.
"We could curtsy, if you like," said George.
"Oh, shut up," said Ron, scowling at them.
"Or what?" said Fred, an evil grin spreading across hisface. "Going to put us in detention?"
"I'd love to see him try," sniggered George.
"He could if you don't watch out!" said Hermione angrily,at which Fred and George burst out laughing and Ronmuttered, "Drop it, Hermione."
"We're going to have to watch our step, George," saidFred, pretending to tremble, "with these two on our case...."
"Yeah, it looks like our law-breaking days are finally over,"said George, shaking his head.
And with another loud crack, the twins Disapparated.
"Those two!" said Hermione furiously, staring up at theceiling, through which they could now hear Fred andGeorge roaring with laughter in the room upstairs. "Don'tpay any attention to them, Ron, they're only jealous!"
"I don't think they are," said Ron doubtfully, also lookingup at the ceiling. "They've always said only prats becomeprefects. ... Still," he added on a happier note, "they'venever had new brooms! I wish I could go with Mum andchoose. ... She'll never be able to afford a Nimbus, butthere's the new Cleansweep out, that'd be great. ... Yeah, Ithink I'll go and tell her I like the Cleansweep, just so sheknows. ..."
He dashed from the room, leaving Harry and Hermionealone.
For some reason, Harry found that he did not want to lookat Hermione. He turned to his bed, picked up the pile ofclean robes Mrs. Weasley had laid upon it, and crossed theroom to his trunk.
"Harry?" said Hermione tentatively.
"Well done," said Harry, so heartily it did not sound likehis voice at all, and still not looking at her. "Brilliant.Prefect. Great."
"Thanks," said Hermione. "Erm — Harry — could Iborrow Hedwig so I can tell Mum and Dad? They'll be reallypleased — I mean, prefect is something they canunderstand —"
"Yeah, no problem," said Harry, still in the horrible heartyvoice that did not belong to him. "Take her!"
He leaned over his trunk, laid the robes on the bottom ofit, and pretended to be rummaging for something whileHermione crossed to the wardrobe and called Hedwigdown. A few moments passed; Harry heard the door closebut remained bent double, listening; the only sounds hecould hear were the blank picture on the wall sniggeringagain and the wastepaper basket in the corner coughing upthe owl droppings.
He straightened up and looked behind him. Hermione andHedwig had gone. Harry returned slowly to his bed andsank onto it, gazing unseeingly at the foot of the wardrobe.
He had forgotten completely about prefects being chosenin the fifth year. He had been too anxious about thepossibility of being expelled to spare a thought for the factthat badges must be winging their way toward certainpeople. But if he had remembered ... if he had thoughtabout it ... what would he have expected?
Not this, said a small and truthful voice inside his head.
Harry screwed up his face and buried it in his hands. Hecould not lie to himself; if he had known the prefect badgewas on its way, he would have expected it to come to him,not Ron. Did this make him as arrogant as Draco Malfoy?Did he think himself superior to everyone else? Did hereally believe he was better than Ron?
No, said the small voice defiantly.
Was that true? Harry wondered, anxiously probing hisown feelings.
I'm better at Quidditch, said the voice. But I'm not betterat anything else.
That was definitely true, Harry thought; he was no betterthan Ron in lessons. But what about outside lessons? Whatabout those adventures he, Ron, and Hermione had hadtogether since they had started at Hogwarts, often riskingmuch worse than expulsion?
Well, Ron and Hermione were with me most of the time,said the voice in Harry's head.
Not all the time, though, Harry argued with himself. Theydidn't fight Quirrell with me. They didn't take on Riddle andthe basilisk. They didn't get rid of all those dementors thenight Sirius escaped. They weren't in that graveyard withme, the night Voldemort returned. ...
And the same feeling of ill usage that had overwhelmedhim on the night he had arrived rose again. I've definitelydone more, Harry thought indignantly. I've done more thaneither of them!
But maybe, said the small voice fairly, maybe Dumbledoredoesn't choose prefects because they've got themselvesinto a load of dangerous situations. ... Maybe he choosesthem for other reasons. ... Ron must have something youdon't. ...
Harry opened his eyes and stared through his fingers atthe wardrobe's clawed feet, remembering what Fred hadsaid.
"No one in their right mind would make Ron a prefect. ..."Harry gave a small snort of laughter. A second later hefelt sickened with himself.
Ron had not asked Dumbledore to give him the prefectbadge. This was not Ron's fault. Was he, Harry, Ron's bestfriend in the world, going to sulk because he didn't have abadge, laugh with the twins behind Ron's back, ruin this forRon when, for the first time, he had beaten Harry atsomething?
At this point Harry heard Ron's footsteps on the stairsagain. He stood up, straightened his glasses, and hitched agrin onto his face as Ron bounded back through the door.
"Just caught her!" he said happily. "She says she'll get theCleansweep if she can."
"Cool," Harry said, and he was relieved to hear that hisvoice had stopped sounding hearty. "Listen — Ron — welldone, mate."
The smile faded off Ron's face.
"I never thought it would be me!" he said, shaking hishead, "I thought it would be you!"
"Nah, I've caused too much trouble," Harry said, echoingFred.
"Yeah," said Ron, "yeah, I suppose. ... Well, we'd betterget our trunks packed, hadn't we?"
It was odd how widely their possessions seemed to havescattered themselves since they had arrived. It took themmost of the afternoon to retrieve their books andbelongings from all over the house and stow them backinside their school trunks. Harry noticed that Ron keptmoving his prefect's badge around, first placing it on hisbedside table, then putting it into his jeans pocket, thentaking it out and laying it on his folded robes, as though tosee the effect of the red on the black. Only when Fred andGeorge dropped in and offered to attach it to his foreheadwith a Permanent Sticking Charm did he wrap it tenderly inhis maroon socks and lock it in his trunk.
Mrs. Weasley returned from Diagon Alley around sixo'clock, laden with books and carrying a long packagewrapped in thick brown paper that Ron took from her witha moan of longing.
"Never mind unwrapping it now, people are arriving fordinner, I want you all downstairs," she said, but the momentshe was out of sight Ron ripped off the paper in a frenzyand examined every inch of his new broom, an ecstaticexpression on his face.
Down in the basement Mrs. Weasley had hung a scarletbanner over the heavily laden dinner table, which readCONGRATULATIONS RON AND HERMIONE — NEWPREFECTS. She looked in a better mood than Harry hadseen her all holiday.
"I thought we'd have a little party, not a sit-down dinner,"she told Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny asthey entered the room. "Your father and Bill are on theirway, Ron, I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled," sheadded, beaming.
Fred rolled his eyes.
Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt werealready there and Mad-Eye Moody stumped in shortly afterHarry had got himself a butterbeer.
"Oh, Alastor, I am glad you're here," said Mrs. Weasleybrightly, as Mad-Eye shrugged off his traveling cloak."We've been wanting to ask you for ages — could you havea look in the writing desk in the drawing room and tell uswhat's inside it? We haven't wanted to open it just in caseit's something really nasty."
"No problem, Molly ..."
Moody's electric-blue eye swiveled upward and staredfixedly through the ceiling of the kitchen.
"Drawing room ..." he growled, as the pupil contracted."Desk in the corner? Yeah, I see it. ... Yeah, it's a boggart. ...Want me to go up and get rid of it, Molly?"
"No, no, I'll do it myself later," beamed Mrs. Weasley. "Youhave your drink. We're having a little bit of a celebration,actually. ..." She gestured at the scarlet banner. "Fourthprefect in the family!" she said fondly, ruffling Ron's hair.
"Prefect, eh?" growled Moody, his normal eye on Ron andhis magical eye swiveling around to gaze into the side of hishead. Harry had the very uncomfortable feeling it waslooking at him and moved away toward Sirius and Lupin.
"Well, congratulations," said Moody, still glaring at Ronwith his normal eye, "authority figures always attracttrouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you canwithstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointedyou. ..."
Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter butwas saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of hisfather and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a goodmood she did not even complain that they had broughtMundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoatthat seemed oddly lumpy in unlikely places and declined theoffer to remove it and put it with Moody's traveling cloak.
"Well, I think a toast is in order," said Mr. Weasley, wheneveryone had a drink. He raised his goblet. "To Ron andHermione, the new Gryffindor prefects!"
Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to themand then applauded.
"I was never a prefect myself," said Tonks brightly frombehind Harry as everybody moved toward the table to helpthemselves to food. Her hair was tomato-red and waistlength today; she looked like Ginny's older sister. "My Headof House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."
"Like what?" said Ginny, who was choosing a bakedpotato.
"Like the ability to behave myself," said Tonks.
Ginny laughed; Hermione looked as though she did notknow whether to smile or not and compromised by takingan extra large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.
"What about you, Sirius?" Ginny asked, thumpingHermione on the back.
Sirius, who was right beside Harry, let out his usualbarklike laugh.
"No one would have made me a prefect, I spent too muchtime in detention with James. Lupin was the good boy, hegot the badge."
"I think Dumbledore might have hoped that I would beable to exercise some control over my best friends," saidLupin. "I need scarcely say that I failed dismally."
Harry's mood suddenly lifted. His father had not been aprefect either. All at once the party seemed much moreenjoyable; he loaded up his plate, feeling unusually fond ofeveryone in the room.
Ron was rhapsodizing about his new broom to anybodywho would listen.
"... naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? Whenyou think the Comet Two Ninety's only naught to sixty andthat's with a decent tailwind according to WhichBroomstick?"
Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about herview of elf rights.
"I mean, it's the same kind of nonsense as werewolfsegregation, isn't it? It all stems from this horrible thingwizards have of thinking they're superior to othercreatures. ..."
Mrs. Weasley and Bill were having their usual argumentabout Bill's hair.
"... getting really out of hand, and you're so good-looking,it would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Harry?"
"Oh — I dunno —" said Harry, slightly alarmed at beingasked his opinion; he slid away from them in the direction ofFred and George, who were huddled in a corner withMundungus.
Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harry, but Fredwinked and beckoned Harry closer.
"It's okay," he told Mundungus, "we can trust Harry, he'sour financial backer."
"Look what Dung's gotten us," said George, holding outhis hand to Harry. It was full of what looked like shriveledblack pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them,even though they were completely stationary.
"Venomous Tentacula seeds," said George. "We needthem for the Skiving Snackboxes but they're a Class C NonTradeable Substance so we've been having a bit of troublegetting hold of them."
"Ten Galleons the lot, then, Dung?" said Fred.
"Wiv all the trouble I went to to get 'em?" saidMundungus, his saggy, bloodshot eyes stretching evenwider. "I'm sorry, lads, but I'm not taking a Knut undertwenty."
"Dung likes his little joke," Fred said to Harry.
"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag ofknarl quills," said George.
"Be careful," Harry warned them quietly.
"What?" said Fred. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron,we're okay."
"But Moody could have his eye on you," Harry pointedout.
Mundungus looked nervously over his shoulder.
"Good point, that," he grunted. "All right, lads, ten it is, ifyou'll take 'em quick."
"Cheers, Harry!" said Fred delightedly, when Mundungushad emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched handsand scuttled off toward the food. "We'd better get theseupstairs. ..."
Harry watched them go, feeling slightly uneasy. It had justoccurred to him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would want toknow how Fred and George were financing their joke shopbusiness when, as was inevitable, they finally found outabout it. Giving the twins his Tri-wizard winnings hadseemed a simple thing to do at the time, but what if it led toanother family row and a Percy-like estrangement? WouldMrs. Weasley still feel that Harry was as good as her son ifshe found out he had made it possible for Fred and Georgeto start a career she thought quite unsuitable?
Standing where the twins had left him with nothing but aguilty weight in the pit of his stomach for company, Harrycaught the sound of his own name. Kingsley Shacklebolt'sdeep voice was audible even over the surrounding chatter.
"... why Dumbledore didn't make Potter a prefect?" saidKingsley.
"He'll have had his reasons," replied Lupin.
"But it would've shown confidence in him. It's what I'd'vedone," persisted Kingsley, " 'specially with the Daily Prophethaving a go at him every few days. ..."
Harry did not look around; he did not want Lupin orKingsley to know he had heard. He followed Mundungusback toward the table, though not remotely hungry. Hispleasure in the party had evaporated as quickly as it hadcome; he wished he were upstairs in bed.
Mad-Eye Moody was sniffing at a chicken leg with whatremained of his nose; evidently he could not detect anytrace of poison, because he then tore a strip off it with histeeth.
"... the handle's made of Spanish oak with anti-jinxvarnish and in-built vibration control —" Ron was saying toTonks.
Mrs. Weasley yawned widely.
"Well, I think I'll sort out that boggart before I turn in. ...Arthur, I don't want this lot up too late, all right? 'Night,Harry, dear."
She left the kitchen. Harry set down his plate andwondered whether he could follow her without attractingattention.
"You all right, Potter?" grunted Moody.
"Yeah, fine," lied Harry.
Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eyestaring sideways at Harry.
"Come here, I've got something that might interest you,"he said.
From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a verytattered old Wizarding photograph.
"Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found itlast night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak,seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return mybest one. ... Thought people might like to see it."
Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people,some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked backup at him.
"There's me," said Moody unnecessarily, pointing athimself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, thoughhis hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact. "Andthere's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the otherside ... That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeksafter this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frankand Alice Longbottom —"
Harry's stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as helooked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendlyface very well, even though he had never met her, becauseshe was the image of her son, Neville.
"Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than whathappened to them ... and that's Emmeline Vance, you'vemet her, and that there's Lupin, obviously ... Benjy Fenwick,he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him ... shiftaside there," he added, poking the picture, and the littlephotographic people edged sideways, so that those whowere partially obscured could move to the front.
"That's Edgar Bones ... brother of Amelia Bones, they gothim and his family too, he was a great wizard ... SturgisPodmore, blimey, he looks young ... Caradoc Dearborn,vanished six months after this, we never found his body ...Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever ... ElphiasDoge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear thatstupid hat ... Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters tokill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes ...budge along, budge along ..."
The little people in the photograph jostled amongthemselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared atthe forefront of the picture.
"That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I evermet him, strange bloke ... That's Dorcas Meadowes,Voldemort killed her personally ... Sirius, when he still hadshort hair ... and ... there you go, thought that wouldinterest you!"
Harry's heart turned over. His mother and father werebeaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, wateryeyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He wasthe one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemortand so helped bring about their deaths.
"Eh?" said Moody.
Harry looked up into Moody's heavily scarred and pittedface. Evidently Moody was under the impression he had justgiven Harry a bit of a treat.
"Yeah," said Harry, attempting to grin again. "Er ... listen,I've just remembered, I haven't packed my ..."
He was spared the trouble of inventing an object he hadnot packed; Sirius had just said, "What's that you've gotthere, Mad-Eye?" and Moody had turned toward him. Harrycrossed the kitchen, slipped through the door and up thestairs before anyone could call him back.
He did not know why he had received such a shock; hehad seen his parents' pictures before, after all, and he hadmet Wormtail ... but to have them sprung on him like that,when he was least expecting it ... No one would like that, hethought angrily. ...
And then, to see them surrounded by all those otherhappy faces ... Benjy Fenwick, who had been found in bits,and Gideon Prewett, who had died like a hero, and theLongbottoms, who had been tortured into madness ... allwaving happily out of the photograph forevermore, notknowing that they were doomed. ... Well, Moody might findthat interesting ... he, Harry, found it disturbing. ...
Harry tiptoed up the stairs in the hall past the stuffed elfheads, glad to be on his own again, but as he approachedthe first landing he heard noises. Someone was sobbing inthe drawing room.
"Hello?" Harry said.
There was no answer but the sobbing continued. Heclimbed the remaining stairs two at a time, walked acrossthe landing, and opened the drawing-room door.
Someone was cowering against the dark wall, her wand inher hand, her whole body shaking with sobs. Sprawled onthe dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, clearly dead,was Ron.
All the air seemed to vanish from Harry's lungs; he felt asthough he were falling through the floor; his brain turnedicy cold — Ron dead, no, it couldn't be —
But wait a moment, it couldn't be — Ron was downstairs—
"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry croaked.
"R-r-riddikulus!'' Mrs. Weasley sobbed, pointing hershaking wand at Ron's body.
Crack.
Ron's body turned into Bill's, spread-eagled on his back,his eyes wide open and empty. Mrs. Weasley sobbed harderthan ever.
"R-riddikulus!" she sobbed again.
Crack.
Mr. Weasley's body replaced Bill's, his glasses askew, atrickle of blood running down his face.
"No!" Mrs. Weasley moaned. "No ... riddikulus!Riddikulus! RIDDIKULUS!"
Crack. Dead twins. Crack. Dead Percy. Crack. Dead Harry...
"Mrs. Weasley, just get out of here!" shouted Harry,staring down at his own dead body on the floor. "Letsomeone else —"
"What's going on?"
Lupin had come running into the room, closely followedby Sirius, with Moody stumping along behind them. Lupinlooked from Mrs. Weasley to the dead Harry on the floorand seemed to understand in an instant. Pulling out his ownwand he said, very firmly and clearly, "Riddikulus!"
Harry's body vanished. A silvery orb hung in the air overthe spot where it had lain. Lupin waved his wand once moreand the orb vanished in a puff of smoke.
"Oh — oh — oh!" gulped Mrs. Weasley, and she broke intoa storm of crying, her face in her hands.
"Molly," said Lupin bleakly, walking over to her, "Molly,don't ..."
Next second she was sobbing her heart out on Lupin'sshoulder.
"Molly, it was just a boggart," he said soothingly, pattingher on the head. "Just a stupid boggart ..."
"I see them d-d-dead all the time!" Mrs. Weasley moanedinto his shoulder. "All the t-t-time! I d-d-dream about it ..."
Sirius was staring at the patch of carpet where theboggart, pretending to be Harry's body, had lain. Moodywas looking at Harry, who avoided his gaze. He had a funnyfeeling Moody's magical eye had followed him all the wayout of the kitchen.
"D-d-don't tell Arthur," Mrs. Weasley was gulping now,mopping her eyes frantically with her cuffs. "I d-d-don'twant him to know. ... Being silly ..."
Lupin handed her a handkerchief and she blew her nose.
"Harry, I'm so sorry, what must you think of me?" she saidshakily. "Not even able to get rid of a boggart ..."
"Don't be stupid," said Harry, trying to smile.
"I'm just s-s-so worried," she said, tears spilling out of hereyes again. "Half the f-f-family's in the Order, it'll b-b-be amiracle if we all come through this. ... and P-P-Percy's nottalking to us. ... What if something d-d-dreadful happensand we had never m-m-made up? And what's going tohappen if Arthur and I get killed, who's g-g-going to lookafter Ron and Ginny?"
"Molly, that's enough," said Lupin firmly. "This isn't likelast time. The Order is better prepared, we've got a headstart, we know what Voldemort's up to —"
Mrs. Weasley gave a little squeak of fright at the sound ofthe name.
"Oh, Molly, come on, it's about time you got used tohearing it — look, I can't promise no one's going to gethurt, nobody can promise that, but we're much better offthan we were last time, you weren't in the Order then, youdon't understand, last time we were outnumbered twentyto one by the Death Eaters and they were picking us off oneby one. ..."
Harry thought of the photograph again, of his parents'beaming faces. He knew Moody was still watching him.
"Don't worry about Percy," said Sirius abruptly. "He'llcome round. It's a matter of time before Voldemort movesinto the open; once he does, the whole Ministry's going tobe begging us to forgive them. And I'm not sure I'll beaccepting their apology," he added bitterly.
"And as for who's going to look after Ron and Ginny if youand Arthur died," said Lupin, smiling slightly, "what do youthink we'd do, let them starve?"
Mrs. Weasley smiled tremulously.
"Being silly," she muttered again, mopping her eyes.
But Harry, closing his bedroom door behind him some tenminutes later, could not think Mrs. Weasley silly. He couldstill see his parents beaming up at him from the tattered oldphotograph, unaware that their lives, like so many of thosearound them, were drawing to a close. The image of theboggart posing as the corpse of each member of Mrs.Weasley's family in turn kept flashing before his eyes.
Without warning, the scar on his forehead seared withpain again and his stomach churned horribly.
"Cut it out," he said firmly, rubbing the scar as the painreceded again.
"First sign of madness, talking to your own head," said asly voice from the empty picture on the wall.
Harry ignored it. He felt older than he had ever felt in hislife, and it seemed extraordinary to him that barely an hourago he had been worried about a joke shop and who hadgotten a prefect's badge.
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