C H A P T E R T H R E E Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes H arry woke with a start. He sat up and looked over to his left to see where the noise had come from and what had made it. Dudley was sitting where he had been before. He looked over at Harry, a small smile on his face, “Sorry Harry, I guess I had too much to drink. I didn’t mean to burp that loud and wake you up.” Harry felt like hitting himself on the head. He tried to remember what he had been dreaming about, a girl, and something about Snape, but he couldn’t remember, even the girl’s face was slipping away now. Harry closed his eyes trying to remember… the girl had gotten up to get her wand from the sunlight in a forest far away somewhere, and then Snape, Snape had told a lie to cover up what he had done. Errgg, Harry thought to himself, why can’t I ever remember my dreams clearly until I’ve had them a dozen times? He looked back over at Dudley, who was now staring at the flowing stream again. “How long did I sleep?” Harry asked. “Only a little while,” replied Dudley, “Only like 15 minutes.” Harry looked over at the water too. “What time is it?” “A little after one,” Dudley said, looking down at the watch on his fat wrist. They both sat there for a few minutes before Harry asked, “What were you saying about Grandma and Grandpa Evans?” Harry felt weird saying ‘Grandma and Grandpa’ because he had never truly had a grandma or grandpa. Dudley thought for a second, “Nothing.” Harry didn’t pursue this any further; he didn’t feel like fighting at the moment. “Maybe we should be heading back,” Harry said. “Yeah, maybe,” replied Dudley. Dudley stood up first. When Harry looked up, he saw Dudley’s hand near his head, waiting to give Harry a hand up, and he took it. * * * By the time Harry and Dudley got back to Privet Drive, it was three o’ clock. They stopped at the end of the street. Little kids were playing ball out in front of their houses, or running here and there playing hide and go seek or tag. “Do you think they’ll be mad?” Dudley asked. “Probably,” Harry said. “But I bet that they’ll be so happy to see you if they’ve found you’ve gone, that they’ll offer up anything you want and make sure you go on vacation with them.” “I don’t know. Dad seemed pretty mad.” They decided to take their chances. They walked down the street, and up the walk. Harry had called it. Before Harry could even reach for the door handle, the door flew open and his aunt Petunia rushed out of the house, past Harry, (knocking him into the bushes), and straight to Dudley, giving him a big bear hug, (even though she couldn’t get her arms completely around him). “Oh Duddykins!” she cried, hugging him even more tightly. “Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!” She began to cry again, only harder this time. Just as Harry was trying to extricate himself from the bushes, uncle Vernon came stomping out of the house, and reached out to push Harry back in. Vernon went to Dudley too, and said, “I’m sorry son, we shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Of course you can come on vacation with us. And while we’re there, you can eat anything you want. And how about a new computer too Dudders?” Dudley looked astonished. He looked over at Harry lying in the bushes watching the whole disgusting scene, (Harry had now given up on trying to get up from the bushes until he knew no one was going to push him back in). Uncle Vernon had apparently seen Dudley looking over at Harry, and mistook his look at Harry for a gesture saying that it was all Harry’s fault and that Harry made him go, because the next thing Harry knew, Uncle Vernon had turned around, grabbed Harry by the front collar of his t-shirt, and pulled him clear of the shrubs. “I knew it had something to do with you boy,” Uncle Vernon growled at Harry, his face turning a deep red that Harry knew was never a good sign to see. “What did you do?!” he demanded, “Did he force you to go with him Dudley?!” he asked, turning to Dudley. Dudley looked torn about what to do next, and what did happen next, not only surprised Dudley, but Harry, Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia as well. “Actually, no dad. I left, and then Harry saw me out a window and followed me.” Uncle Vernon looked at Dudley, apparently too dumfounded to speak. Harry looked from Dudley to Aunt Petunia, and to Uncle Vernon. “Er, maybe you should put Harry down dad, he’s turning purple.” Indeed, Harry was turning slightly purple from the lack of oxygen since Uncle Vernon still had him by his collar and hanging a foot off the ground. Uncle Vernon looked over at Harry and put him down before turning his attention back to his son. Harry was now slightly aware that a better part of the neighborhood was watching this drama unfold, and Aunt Petunia seemed to be too, because she then ushered them into the house and closed the door, but they didn’t get any farther than the entryway. “What are you saying Dudley?” Uncle Vernon asked, his face turning less red on it’s way back to normal. Dudley, looking as if he had to gather his courage up again before he spoke, finally said, “Well, I was going to go and sit at a park, and then maybe go get some food, but Harry saw, and followed me. Instead of going to the park though, I just kept walking, and before I knew it I was on the edge of town. That’s when Harry showed up.” Again, Dudley looked at Harry, and so did Uncle Vernon, who still had Harry by his collar, which only seemed to harden Dudley’s new resolve, so he went on. “Harry came up behind me and asked me where I was going, and I told him I didn’t know, but that I wasn’t going back, so, so then he tried to convince me to come back, but I kept walking because I was so mad. I’m sorry mum, dad.” Dudley added at the look on his parent’s faces. Then he continued, “Harry followed me all the way until we came to a small patch of woods on a country road a ways out of town. We had to sit down to rest in the shade because it was so hot and we were so tired, but then Harry got up and went into the woods for a minute or two, before he shouted to me that he found clean water to drink from a stream. And, and so we did, and then we came back home after we rested up a bit. I’m really really sorry,” Dudley added again. He looked down at his shoes when he finished. Uncle Vernon finally looked at Harry again, and let go of his grip on Harry’s shirt. “Is this true boy?” he asked harshly and unbelieving. Harry looked over at Dudley, who nodded, and after a couple of seconds of thought, said, “Yes.” Things had turned out a lot better than Harry and Dudley had thought, all things considered, they both got off almost scott free. Dudley had received two day’s grounding for ‘going off like that’, and Harry had received three days grounding to extra chores and his room, for not telling his aunt and uncle where Dudley had gone. Even though Dudley did not get that new computer, his diet rations seemed to loosen up a bit, even though Dudley never seemed as hungry any more. For some reason unbeknownst to the both of them, neither of them talked much over the next week, even though neither of them were very mean or rude to each other anymore. Harry wasn’t sure why his cousin was acting so different, but didn’t exclude the possibility that magic was somehow involved, even though he liked to think that Dudley really had changed. Three days after Harry’s grounding ended, he received a letter from Ron by way of Ron’s owl Pig, it read: Harry, Guess what, Mum and Dad say that you can come over now. We were hoping to pick you up in a week; that way we’d have a while before school started up again. Fred and George say hi, and also, that if you could get a ride to London, than you could just go to Diagon Alley and meet us there at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Send back your reply with Pig, he seems to have a lot of extra energy lately. -Ron P.S. Have you heard from Hermione lately? I haven’t heard from her in about a week. Harry read the note through a second time before sitting down to reply. He took out a quill and parchment and unstopped a bottle of ink. He then wrote: Ron, Thanks for inviting me. It would be cool to meet you in Diagon Alley, but I’m not sure if I can get a ride or not. I’ll have to ask… Harry paused a moment thinking what to write next, but then he crumpled his first attempt up and stood up to go and ask his uncle Vernon, before stopping himself because he realized that he had to come up with a plan first. Harry was sure that he couldn’t just come flat out and ask; he could just hear his uncle’s reaction in his head, “What?! Are you crazy Boy!? I don’t have time to go driving you all over the country!” Harry crossed over to his bed and sat down on it to think a moment. He could probably convince his uncle to let him go to Ron’s house, especially since they were planning to go on a vacation soon and definitely were not going to want to take Harry; the question was, how did Harry get them to take him there. Harry found his answer almost immediately when he heard his uncle calling Dudley, “Dudders! Will you come down stairs a minute! We need to talk about London!” Harry heard Dudley open his door and walk down the hallway. Harry seized his chance and walked quickly after him. When Dudley and Harry got downstairs and into the living room, where uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia were sitting on the couch, his uncle growled, “I didn’t call you boy.” He looked menacingly at Harry for a second before turning to Dudley. “Dudley, we need to go to London tomorrow to get your school supplies and your new uniform, and also to pick up a new suitcase and some other things for the vacation.” Harry’s heart sank, they were going tomorrow, not in a week, and unless the Weasley’s were going to come pick him up, he would be stuck there with the Dursley’s and at Mrs. Figg’s house for the rest of the summer, unless… Harry thought to himself, “Uncle Vernon?” Harry asked hopefully. “Hmph,” his uncle only acknowledged him with a grunt as he had gone back to reading his paper. “Uncle Vernon, I was wondering if you could drop me off in London tomorrow, when you take Dudley I mean,” Harry added quickly, “so that I could meet my friend Ron there and go to his house for the rest of the summer.” Harry finished all of this rather quickly, hoping that his uncle wouldn’t shoot him down in the middle of his question. He waited for his uncle’s answer, trying to not look too hopeful. “Where exactly in London is it I’m supposed to be dropping you off boy?” he asked in a sort of growl. “It’s somewhere near the square, I’ll know it when I see it, or you could just drop me off there.” Harry was looking at his uncle very closely to see if he could find any hint in his face about what the answer was going to be. But his uncle stayed silent and still, only his eyes moving, as if he were reading the paper, although Harry was sure that he was faking it. Now Dudley and his aunt Petunia were watching him too, waiting to see what his answer would be. Harry waited with baited breath, before his uncle finally said, “Don’t expect me to go driving around looking for this ruddy place all day. I have more important things to do. And, I’ll only take you if you promise to stay at school or at your ruddy friend’s house next summer too.” Uncle Vernon didn’t even put down his paper, but Harry could see that the top of his forehead was a deep red. “Vernon,” aunt Petunia said, “Remember last summer?” she whispered, a quaver in her voice. Uncle Vernon finally put his paper down and looked over at his wife. “I don’t care what that crazy old pratt told you dear, if he can then he should stay at his school,” he said without lowering his voice any. Uncle Vernon looked back at Harry waiting to hear what he had to say. “Fine. I’ll ask, but I can’t give you any guarantees,” Harry said through almost gritted teeth. He knew that the Dursley’s didn’t care if he died just because he couldn’t stay at their house over the summer. “Fine,” Uncle Vernon growled, “We leave at six.” Harry went back up to his room to pack, but before he even had three books tossed into his trunk, Dudley came in and stood in his doorframe. “So you’re going to your friend’s house?” he asked. “I am in a week. Until then I’m going to stay in the Leaky Cauldron until they come to pick me up,” Harry said, not looking up at Dudley. “Why aren’t you going now? And what’s the Leaky Cauldron?” Dudley questioned him. “They didn’t invite me for another week, and I knew your dad wouldn’t take me then. The Leaky Cauldron is a small pub that hides the entrance to Diagon Alley, which is where most of our kind in Britain shop,” Harry explained, putting more of his schoolbooks at the bottom of his trunk. “So you’re going to stay in a pub for a week?” “No, there are rooms to rent above it, like in an inn,” Harry added at the confused look on Dudley’s face. “That’s where I stayed when I blew up aunt Marge.” Dudley gave a short laugh before asking, “Are you really going to stay at your school for the next summer?” Harry thought for a few seconds before replying, “I don’t know, the headmaster says I have to stay here if I don’t want to get killed by Voldemort.” Harry looked up at Dudley as he said this, just to see if he would flinch at the name, but he didn’t, which gave Harry a feeling of relief for some reason, although he couldn’t put his finger on why. The next morning, Harry woke at four. He didn’t know what woke him that early, but he sat up and looked around his dark bedroom anyway. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. His trunk sat open in the middle of his floor where it had been the night before, and Hedwig’s empty cage still sat on top of Harry’s wardrobe. Harry stood up and looked out his window. The street lamps were still lit and there was nothing moving that he could see, not even a cat. He crossed back over to his bed as he heard a particularly loud snore come from Dudley’s room, which he thought, was probably what woke him in the first place. As Harry sat down, he tried to remember what he was dreaming about, but nothing came to mind, not even a fuzzy image. Ever since Sirius had been killed at the end of the last school year, not two full weeks before, Harry felt as if he had been walking around in a stupor. If he wasn’t feeling sad or angry or terrible, or worse yet, empty and lonely, he wasn’t feeling anything at all. And so it had also been in his dreams. If he wasn’t having a dream or nightmare about Sirius or of that last battle before Sirius had fallen through the veil, and Harry always wondering if he could have done something different to stop it, than Harry wasn’t dreaming at all, with the exception of the dream he had had about that strange girl, and Snape in the forest. Harry put his head in his hands, trying to remember, anything, anything at all, but still nothing came to him. He didn’t want to go back to sleep, but he had nothing else to do either, so he got up, crossed the room, and sat down at his desk. He pulled out a new piece of parchment, another quill, and he unstoppered his bottle of ink again before writing: Dear Professor Lupin, I’m going to Ron’s house in a week. I’m going to meet them in Diagon Alley at Fred and George’s shop. My uncle will only take me to London today though, so I’m just going to stay in the Leaky Cauldron until then. Please don’t tell Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, I don’t want them to make room for me an extra week early just on my account. Maybe I’ll see you there. -Harry P.S. Have you heard from Hermione lately? Neither Ron or I have heard from her for about a week. -Harry Harry looked at his letter to Lupin and read it over again to make sure he had said everything right. Even if he didn’t want the Weasley’s to know that he was going to stay in the Leaky Cauldron, he still had to tell somebody so that they wouldn’t be worried about him if someone came to check up on him and he wasn’t there. Harry rolled up the parchment and tied it together. Now it would be ready to send off whenever Hedwig came back. Harry wasn’t particularly worried about Hedwig; she always seemed to know where he was. Harry yawned and then rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He looked over at the clock on his nightstand, 4:38. Harry still had at least half an hour before the Dursley’s woke up to get ready to go to London. Five o’clock came and went, and Dudley and uncle Vernon had gotten up and were already at the kitchen table before aunt Petunia came downstairs to fix them breakfast. When Harry came down a few minutes after he’d heard Dudley going downstairs, uncle Vernon was reading the paper, and Dudley was sitting at the table staring at the TV, which had been turned onto the news. Harry sat at the table at his normal spot across from Dudley, and next to uncle Vernon. Uncle Vernon just ignored him as usual, and kept reading the paper, Dudley however looked over at Harry and gave him a weak smile; Harry gave an awkward smile back. Ten minutes after this, aunt Petunia came down, still dressed in her nightgown, and started to make bacon and eggs. Dudley and Harry finished their breakfast rather quickly, (which was a little out of place for Harry since he had lost interest in eating in the past couple of weeks). Dudley then followed Harry upstairs and into his room, where they both picked up Harry’s trunk and carried it back downstairs and out the front door. They put his trunk in the back seat of uncle Vernon’s new grey car, and then Harry went back upstairs to fetch Hedwig’s birdcage and make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Just as Harry was walking back downstairs with Hedwig’s cage, a quill, and a forgotten bottle of ink, he heard uncle Vernon talking to Dudley in the living room. “Really, what has gotten into you Dudley?” “I, I don’t know what you mean,” Dudley answered, careful not to give his father an attitude. “You haven’t made fun of Harry for most of the last two weeks, you’ve quit complaining about your food, and you just helped him carry his luggage down to the car.” Harry could detect a little bit of anger in his uncle’s voice, but this was also mixed with what sounded to Harry like worry for Dudley’s state of mind. “Harry convinced me to come home instead of running away, and he didn’t do it with being mean or rude. I’ve stopped complaining about the food because I’m tired of being fat, and how else was Harry going to get his trunk down to the car short of magic?” “Dudley! What have I told you about speaking that unnaturalness in this house?!” Uncle Vernon hissed. “Sorry dad, I forgot,” Dudley said quickly. Harry wasn’t sure what he should think. Dudley actually sticking to his story of Harry convincing him to come home and not run away, and Dudley using the ‘M’ word in front of his dad. This was all too strange for Harry to hear, but he couldn’t help but force a smile. Harry continued walking down the stairs with Hedwig’s cage, and then down the hall and into the living room where Dudley and uncle Vernon still stood in the center of the floor. He looked at his watch. “It’s almost six, should we leave?” Harry asked. Uncle Vernon gave one last look at Dudley, and then passed by Harry and proceeded out the front door and out to the car. Harry and Dudley followed suit, both wearing a small smile. The journey to London was a quiet one. Since it was a Saturday there wasn’t much traffic out on the road this early in the morning. People were still only just beginning their drives to wherever when they reached the outskirts of London. Harry stared out the window, his head up against it, and his arm on his trunk next to him. The window was cold, and his scar aching as usual, the coolness seemed to help a little. Dudley sat in the front passenger seat, while uncle Vernon seemed to be silently fuming as he drove. As they neared the square, Harry kept an eye out for the Leaky Cauldron. He noticed the early shoppers gone to London for a day of shopping were already out and walking down the side walk, peering into store windows, waiting for them to open. Then he spotted it. Up ahead was the Leaky Cauldron. “Its up ahead uncle Vernon, on the left.” Harry pointed it out. “Hmph.” Another one of uncle Vernon’s acknowledging grunts. Uncle Vernon pulled over and parked a couple of storefronts away from the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry opened his door and got out. “I’ll be right back, I’m just going to get the inn keeper to come out and help me with my trunk,” Harry told them. “I’ll help you Harry,” said Dudley, beginning to unbuckle his seat belt in the front seat. “No,” said uncle Vernon flatly, as he reached over to stop Dudley, “I won’t have any son of mine going into a ruddy place of that sort.” Dudley looked disappointed, but he stopped trying to unbuckle his seat belt, and Harry walked off to get the innkeeper. Harry walked up to the Leaky Cauldron’s door, turned the handle, and pushed it open. Just like the Muggles, there were a few early shoppers waiting in the Leaky Cauldron for the stores to open. A few of them looked up from their brews and cups of tea when Harry entered. He ignored them and walked over to the counter where Tom the innkeeper stood cleaning out an old glass mug with a white towel. When Harry reached the counter, Tom looked up. “Why hello young Mr. Potter,” Tom said rather cheerfully. At the mention of Harry’s name the rest of the customers looked back up and over at Harry again, and a quiet chatter and babble broke out among them. Harry looked back over at Tom. “Hi Tom. I er, need help with my trunk out in my uncle’s car,” Harry said kind of uncertainly. “Why of course Mr. Potter, lead the way,” Tom said as he smiled and put down his towel and glass. Harry walked back out the front door, with Tom in suit, and over to uncle Vernon’s car. Harry could see Dudley craning his neck to get a good look at the innkeeper, and uncle Vernon clearly looking him up and down, disapproving of the way he was dressed, which Harry saw nothing wrong with, since Tom was wearing regular black slacks, a nice dark green shirt with it’s sleeves rolled up, and a clean white bartender’s apron. Harry opened the car door and let Tom pull the trunk most of the way out of the car, before Harry grabbed the other end and they lifted it out onto the sidewalk. Harry grabbed Hedwig’s cage and set it on top of his trunk before turning back to Dudley (who had his window rolled down) and uncle Vernon. “Er, well, see you then,” Harry said. Dudley gave a small wave, but uncle Vernon said nothing. He only turned the engine back on and drove away. Tom gave Harry a kind of sympathetic look, “He’s your uncle is he?” “Yeah,” said Harry. They grabbed the ends of Harry’s trunk again, and carried it back into the Leaky Cauldron. “So, you’ll be wanting a room then?” Tom asked him. “Yes sir.” Harry and Tom set down his trunk and Tom walked back behind the counter, pulled a small black book from under it, and opened it up. He moved his finger down one of the white pages, as if looking for something. Finally his finger stopped near the bottom and he said, “Well, you’re just in luck Mr. Potter, we have one last room.” Tom turned around and took a key from under the back counter. Then they picked up Harry’s trunk again, and Harry followed Tom up a back staircase to the landing, and then down a hall and to a room with a number eleven on it. “Here you are Mr. Potter, I believe this is the same room you had a few years ago.” He gave Harry the key. “Yes sir. Thanks.” Harry took the key and opened the door. They carried his trunk in and set it down at the foot of Harry’s bed. “Well if you need me,” Tom said, “you know where I am,” and then he left, closing the door behind him, and Harry was again alone. Harry crossed over to his window and opened it. He wanted Hedwig to be able to get in if he was down shopping or something. A cool breeze swept through the room and through Harry’s hair, ruffling it slightly. Harry looked down to the alley below, where he saw something that made his stomach drop. There were Fred and George Weasley. They were standing out in front of a shop that Harry could only assume was their own, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, tying what looked like a small roll of parchment to an owl’s leg that George was holding. When Fred was done, George said something to the owl, and then tossed it up into the air. Clearly expecting the owl to fly towards Gringotts, the twins ducked when it turned around and flew right over their heads and straight for Harry’s window. Harry ducked out of the way as the owl came soaring in. The owl perched itself on top of Hedwig’s open cage, and Harry stood back up and looked out the window without thinking. Too late, the twins had already spotted him, and judging by the confused looks on their faces, they still clearly thought that Harry was still at his aunt and uncle’s house in Little Whinging. Harry opened his mouth, but then shut it again. Fred and George looked at each other before smiling, and turning back to Harry they waved. “Hiya Harry!” George shouted. Harry looked over at the owl that was now on his bed and realized that the owl must have been for him, but when he looked back out onto the street, Fred and George were gone. Harry crossed over to the bed and untied the roll of parchment from the brown owl’s leg. It was a very pretty eagle owl, Harry thought to himself, much nicer than Draco Malfoy’s, which always brought its owner sweets from home. Harry unrolled the parchment and read: Harry, Ron said he’s invited you over. If your aunt and uncle say yes, than see if you can get a ride to Diagon Alley, and you can see our joke shop before we take you home. If your aunt and uncle say no, write us and we’ll come and get you anyway so that you can see the joke shop and we can take you home. -Fred and George Weasley Harry hit himself in the head with his fists; he was stupid not to think about Fred and George working in their shop in Diagon Alley, and the possibility that they would spot him if he went out on the street. Just as Harry went to sit on the bed, he heard a knock at the door. Harry stood back up and went to open the door, and as soon as he did Fred and George walked in. “Hey Harry,” said Fred, “we thought you were still at your aunt and uncle’s house.” “Yeah,” said George, “Imagine our surprise when that owl flew right in the opposite direction. We thought it was going to attack us,” George finished with a smirk on his face. “Maybe dear brother, Harry just didn’t want to see us,” Fred said looking over at his twin, in a would-be hurt looking face. “I do think you’re right brother, imagine: our own benefactor not even wanting to come and examine his handiwork,” George replied, putting his hands behind his back and looking back over at Harry. Fred put one hand up to his chin and that elbow in his other hand, “I do believe you mean our handiwork,” he said, stroking his chin and also turning to Harry. “Oh yes quite right,” George finished, giving Fred a quick smile, before once again turning back to Harry. Harry had to hand it to them. If he’d ever known anyone to put a smile on his face by pleasantry, it was the Weasley twins. Harry smiled and said, “You know, I was just coming down to see you two and tell you I want all my money back.” Fred and George looked at each other before grinning ear to ear and going over to Harry and slapping him on the back. “Well now old chap,” George said, putting his arm around Harry’s shoulder and looking to Fred, “I do believe we’ve found our missing brother.” “Yes, I think you’re right George old boy, he’s the one mum and dad traded in for Ron ages ago,” Fred replied putting his arm around Harry’s other shoulder, “I always knew Ron wasn’t our brother, never had our sense of humor.” Together Fred and George steered Harry out of his room and shut the door behind him. For the first time in a long time, Harry’s smile was true. * * * Fred and George kept their hands on Harry’s shoulders all the way out into the Leaky Cauldron’s back yard, and into Diagon Alley, steering him towards their shop. They passed a shop on their right called Julie’s Quills n’ Things, and another one next to that called Angelica’s Antique books, which had many old and dusty looking books in the window display, that had cobwebs all over them and looked as if they were new when they were put there long ago, but nobody had bought them, so now they were antiques. Finally the three of them came to a newer looking shop with a shiny new wooden sign that hung over the door and read: Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harry could see all manner of strange and colorful things in the window display, which Harry noticed seemed to be highly polished. Fred and George finally let go of Harry’s shoulders, and Fred opened the shop door, while George nudged Harry inside, both bowed as they did so. “Welcome, our benefactor,” said Fred. “To the trials of our labor,” finished George. What met Harry’s eyes was truly astonishing. Inside the shop were shelves upon shelves of tricks and wizarding pranks. To Harry’s left was a polished, dark wooden counter, that looked to Harry to be made out of rose wood. Behind the counter were a few shelves stacked with what looked like the more ‘dangerous’ and expensive pranks. To Harry’s right were shelves that went from the floor to the ceiling, which were packed with everything from fanged frisbees to ‘super’ exploding dung bombs, wet start no heat ‘Extreme’ fire works, and skiving snack boxes, which Harry remembered all too well from their previous year at Hogwarts. Harry remembered how the twins had tried to try out their skiving snack boxes on the first and second years of Gryffindor before Hermione put a stop to it and they were forced to try it on themselves, which they seemed all to happy to do. Harry turned around and looked at the twins, still standing in front of the door. They were clearly waiting with baited breath to see if Harry liked it. Harry grinned and said, “I love it.” It was like Christmas had come early for the twins. Their eyes lit up and they grinned ear to ear before looking at each other and shaking each other’s hands. C H A P T E R F O U R Percy’s Home It took another hour for the twins to show Harry around their shop, (there was a whole other room in the back), and to show Harry all of their new specialty pranks. Finally when they had finished, they informed Harry that they would tell Ron about him when they got home, and in the mean time, Harry could use their eagle owl Greshen to deliver his letter to Lupin. They also told Harry that he was welcome in their shop any time he wished, and that since he had supplied them the money for their shop, that they would supply him with a lifetime of jokes and pranks free of charge. By the time Harry had carried the three bags of pranks they had started him off with, back up to his room above the Leaky Cauldron, it was nearly one o’ clock, and Harry was ready for lunch. Harry dumped the bags of pranks and jokes onto his bed and went over to where the twins’ owl Greshen stood. He reached inside his back pocket for the letter he had written to Professor Lupin earlier, and tied it to Greshen’s ankle, and then carried him over to the window and let him loose to deliver Harry’s letter. Harry watched Greshen soar out the window and out over Diagon Alley, which was now filled with witches and wizards and what Harry thought he saw to be two small trolls, all doing their shopping. Harry thought about where he wanted to eat his lunch. He could eat downstairs in the Leaky Cauldron, or at Fortescue’s Ice Cream shop down in Diagon Alley, but he didn’t particularly feel like eating at either one. He sat down on his bed to think a moment, but couldn’t think of any other place aside from outside Diagon Alley in Muggle London. But then Harry’s thoughts drifted to the house where The Order of the Phoenix’s head quarters had been last year, at Sirius’ old house not far from the square. Harry remembered the first time he had stepped inside it, the musty smell that had filled his nostrils, the umbrella stand in the shape of a troll leg, and the horrid screeches of the painting of Sirius’ mother that hung on a wall, which filled his ears if somebody made too much noise. A big rock seemed to drop into Harry’s stomach when he thought of this. Only last summer Harry had been staying in that house with Sirius. Only last Christmas he went there to spend his Christmas vacation with Sirius and the Weasley’s. All of a sudden Harry felt a familiar wave of nausea float over him. He had felt this way for a long time now, and couldn’t seem to shake the feeling even if he wanted to. Harry didn’t want to think about it anymore, but knew that it would be on his mind for the rest of the day. He stood up and crossed the room over to his window again. As he looked out and down towards the twins’ shop again, he got an idea. What if he just went to look at Sirius’ house one last time. He wouldn’t go inside, he would just stand on the outside, chant the words that made it appear, and look at it for a few minutes. Harry didn’t know why this sounded comforting to him, but for some reason it did. He thought about going and asking Fred or George if the Order still had it’s headquarters there, but then thought better of it, because he didn’t want anyone to go with him. He was tired of other people’s sympathy, and didn’t think he could stand it if another person even looked at him like they felt sorry for him. Harry made up his mind, and walked out his bedroom door, locking it behind him. He descended the stairs that led back down to the Leaky Cauldron, and peered around a corner to make sure that there was nobody he knew sitting at the bar, and that Tom the bartender was busy. Tom was nowhere in sight, probably in a back store room somewhere getting more rum or food stuffs, and to Harry’s relief, he saw no one he knew. There were only two old witches sitting near the fire drinking some unknown liquid, chatting away, and what Harry could only assume to be a goblin, sitting at the bar drinking out of a big black glass. Harry wondered what was inside it. He walked around the corner and right over to the front door. Neither the witches or the goblin looked up at him, so he opened the door and stepped out onto the busy Muggle street. Harry knew that he could find his way to the house from the Square, as he had once walked from the house, past the square, and to King’s Cross Station at the end of Christmas break last year. Harry felt another wave of nausea come over him; Sirius had come with them when they had walked to the train station last year. Trying to ignore the feeling in his stomach, and failing, Harry set off in the direction of the square. The sooner he got to the house, the sooner the feeling would go away, or so he hoped. Harry passed many stores and shoppers as he walked down the sidewalk. He passed clothing stores, hardware stores, bookshops, and department stores which had a variety of things in them before he saw the square. He stood there a moment on the edge of the sidewalk waiting for a break in the traffic, and when he found one, he crossed the street at a jog over to the square. Here there were a few pigeons pecking at what looked like birdseed on the ground. They scattered as Harry ran over to where they were, trying to get out of the way of the speeding cars. Instead of going around, Harry went right through the Square. When he reached the other corner he crossed the street again and kept walking. Harry walked for 10 minutes. He didn’t need to look up to see where he was; his feet seemed to know where to take him, so he just kept looking down at his shoes. When he finally did look up, he recognized the street he was on. This was the street where Sirius’ house was. The street was lined with quite a few old and rundown houses. Some of them had boarded up windows, and others had no windows at all, just square holes where there should have been. Harry heard a booming music from somewhere in the distance as he walked down the street, just as he had the last time he was here. Finally he reached the spot where Sirius’ house should have been, a small gap between two other houses. Harry knew all he had to do was to walk by the gap thinking of the house and it’s address, and it would appear, but for some reason he didn’t. Harry just stood there, looking past the sidewalk into the gap between the two houses where he knew the house was magically hidden. Harry felt a breeze pick up and ruffle his hair, it gave Harry the shivers since he didn’t have a jacket on and was only wearing a t-shirt. He stuck his hands in his pockets, still staring at the gap. Harry felt emptier inside than he had all summer. This isn’t right, he thought to himself. Sirius should be coming out of his front door right now to greet me. I should be going inside with him to stay the rest of the summer. The wind ruffled Harry’s hair a bit more as he stood there in a kind of silent trance. Harry wasn’t aware of it, but he was being watched. There was somebody right behind him. Finally a cold voice said, “Are you going to stand there all day Potter, or are you going to go in?” Chills went up and down Harry’s spine and he looked at his shoes. He recognized the voice, and knew that this was the last thing he needed right now; Snape standing there watching him in one of his lowest moments. Harry waited for Snape to say something else, but the words never seemed to come. Harry was sure Snape was standing there scrutinizing him. Finally he spoke again, but Harry didn’t look up. “Alright, follow me Potter.” Harry thought he heard Snape’s voice lighten a little, but didn’t look up to see if there was any sympathy in his features; he didn’t think he could take one of his enemies feeling sorry for him. That was just too much. Harry followed Snape up the walk to the house that had just appeared, still looking at his shoes. Snape had obviously just thought the secret password and made it appear. Harry wasn’t sure, but he started to feel a small fire burn inside him again, the other familiar feeling he had had for years, the hate that he had had for Snape seemed to be rising in him again, and now Snape was making him go into a house that he desperately wanted not to enter, although Harry felt he had to. Not because Snape told him to, but because something deeper told him to. Harry walked through the front door Snape had left open for him, and then turned and closed it. He finally looked up; he was in the entryway, and Snape was gone. Harry leaned against the wall to his left, and then he heard voices coming from the door across the hall. “Lupin, I want a word with you,” Snape said, his words followed by a small pop. Harry was sure he knew what was going on, almost the exact same thing had happened in Harry’s third year at Hogwarts, only under different circumstances. Harry and Ron had gotten into trouble when Harry snuck out of the castle to go to Hogsmead with the rest of the third years, when they had encountered Draco Malfoy, who had run back up to the castle to tell Snape. Snape had then led Harry into his office, and thrown a bunch of floo powder into his fire, yelling, “Lupin! I want a word with you!” Only seconds later Lupin had come walking out of the fireplace and into Snape’s office. Now Harry knew that was what was happening. Snape was calling Lupin to come and get Harry. A few seconds later, Harry heard another small pop and Lupin’s voice. “Yes Severus?” “You might want to come over here Lupin. There’s a visitor,” Snape said, the cold in his voice back now as he talked to Lupin. “Fine, I’m taking care of something in Diagon Alley now, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Harry heard another small pop, and assumed that Professor Lupin’s head went back to the rest of his body, wherever it was in Diagon Alley. A few seconds later, Snape came back through the kitchen door and out into the hallway. Harry looked at him as he stood there leaning against the wall, his hands still in his pockets. “Is there a reason you’re here Potter?” Snape asked, looking over at him. Harry was sure that the look Snape gave him was one of pure hate mixed with one that looked as if he were questioning the state of Harry’s of mind. Almost the same one he was sure uncle Vernon had given Dudley earlier that morning. Harry stared back and said, “Why are you here?” Harry didn’t care if he got in trouble or yelled at for this question, although he couldn’t see how it could get him in worse trouble than he thought he was already in. “This is still the Order’s Headquarters Potter, why else do you think I would be here?” he said like it should have been obvious to Harry. “Where is everybody else then?” Harry hazarded again. “On other business Potter.” Harry could tell Snape was getting annoyed with him and his questions, but for some reason this didn’t please Harry as much as it used to. Normally Harry would have done anything to make Snape mad or annoyed. Instead of saying something else though, Harry just took his hands out of his pockets and walked past Snape and into the kitchen. The kitchen looked like Harry remembered it too. One long brown rectangular wooden table stood in the middle of the kitchen with four chairs on either side, and one on each end. A tall fireplace stood in the far wall, and to Harry’s left there was a counter that ran the length of the room. For some reason it surprised Harry that the kitchen looked clean and dust free, as if someone had been living here since last year. Harry knew Snape was right of course; he had been stupid to not think that the Order was still using this place as it’s headquarters, especially with all the magic that was guarding it from people that might harm it or its residents. Harry walked over and sat in a chair at the end of the kitchen table. As Harry sat there in the chair that he realized was Sirius’ old chair, he couldn’t remember a time when he felt more emotional in his life. Or maybe he had, but not like this. Harry remembered for a minute his third year when Gryffindor had won the Quidditch cup, and then he remembered the time when he found out Sirius was his godfather, and that Sirius had not given away his parents’ whereabouts to Voldemort. For a few joyous hours at the end of Harry’s third year, he had thought that he would be freed from the Dursley’s and would go to live at Sirius’ house. Now even those dreams were quashed, and so here Harry sat. Harry sat silently for a few minutes trying to think of other times when he felt happy, when the door to the kitchen opened behind him. Harry wasn’t sure if it was Professor Lupin, or just Snape again, or perhaps some other member of the Order come to get something, but Harry hadn’t heard the front door open again, so he knew it must have been Snape. “I’ve gotten what I came for Potter, Lupin should be here any minute now,” Snape said, then he paused for a second before finishing, “I don’t know that it’ll help any, but life goes on, and then one day you’re over it, you won’t know that it’s happened until the day you feel different.” Snape seemed to pause again, and Harry waited for the rest of what Snape was going to say, but no more words came. A few more seconds passed before Harry heard Snape open the kitchen door, and leave. Another few seconds and Harry heard the front door open and close, and Harry was alone. The words Snape had spoken rang hollow in Harry’s ears. It was like he’d heard them, but he hadn’t. ‘I don’t know that it will help any, but life goes on.’ What was that supposed to mean, Harry thought to himself. Snape’s voice sounded cold when he’d said it, so Harry wasn’t sure whether he had said it to help Harry or to hinder him, and Harry had certainly never seen or heard of Snape acting this way. He had always been mean to anybody who wasn’t in Slytherin. Was it possible that these words could have come from the same man who had been trying to get Harry expelled since his first year at Hogwarts? The same Professor who had made Hermione cry in their fourth year because a spell had hit her and given her buckteeth? Harry was very confused. There was no way that what Snape had just said had come from the same person who had always given Harry a look of pure venom and hatred every time he even glanced at him. In Harry’s mind this just seemed to be an impossibility. A few more minutes passed, and still no Lupin. Harry decided not to wait. He hadn’t wanted to talk to anybody when he’d gone there, he’d just wanted to see the outside of the house, and now he was inside. Snape’s words still fresh in Harry’s mind, Harry rose from his seat at the table, and walked out of the kitchen. He walked down the hallway, and out the front door, closing it behind him. As soon as Harry walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk, the house vanished behind him. Harry wasn’t sure if he’d ever see it again, but he looked to the empty space between the two houses anyway as he walked back down the side walk towards his room in the Leaky Cauldron. * * * Harry’s week in his room above the Leaky Cauldron passed slowly. He didn’t go back out to the rest of Muggle London again, but he also stayed away from Diagon Alley. Harry ate in the Leaky Cauldron at breakfast, lunch and dinner, and he stayed in his room finishing up all the homework he’d neglected to do over the first two weeks of the summer. Harry had to finish a particularly nasty essay for Professor Binns, (the History of Magic teacher), about the Vampire uprising of 1514. The essay was supposed to be two rolls of parchment, and Harry had barely one, and that was in big writing. Harry thought to himself a moment that Hermione had probably already done hers, and had probably written three rolls of parchment without breaking a sweat. Thinking of Hermione, Harry remembered that neither he or Ron had heard from her for a couple of weeks now. Harry was starting to get worried. The day after Harry sent Greshen to Lupin with his letter, Harry got a letter back from him saying that it was fine that he stayed in the Leaky Cauldron, and that it was good that he wrote to somebody so that they knew where he was. On Harry’s last day in his rented room, while he was lying on his stomach trying to finish a report on unicorns for Hagrid and his Care of Magical Creatures class, he heard a rapping on his window. Harry looked up and saw, “Hedwig!” he said as he jumped up and sprinted over to open his window to let her in. As soon as he did, Hedwig soared in and landed on Harry’s report. He walked over to her and untied the rather large package that was tied to her leg. “Thanks Hedwig,” Harry said, stroking her. Hedwig hooted sleepily and flew over to the top of Harry’s wardrobe where a glass of water sat. She drank some of the water and then hopped over to her cage where Harry watched her get up onto her perch and fall asleep within seconds. Harry smiled, glad that his friend was back. He looked down to the package that was still sitting on his bed, and at once recognized Hermione’s handwriting. He tore open the paper and opened a white box to find inside it a birthday card, a letter, and another small package wrapped in more brown paper. Harry picked up the second package and unraveled the twine that was wrapped around it. He unfolded the brown paper and looked inside to find an odd looking purple object no bigger than the size of a snitch. The purple thing had all sorts of lumps on it, and in a way reminded Harry of a round chunk of rock candy. Harry then looked down and picked up Hermione’s card; he opened it and read: Happy Birthday Harry, I hope you’ll forgive me for not getting you your birthday present on time. The purple object I’ve gotten you is called a Fenral. A Fenral is an object the Brazilian wizards made a long time ago. They used it to tell when danger is near. If you’re safe the Fenral will be a shade of purple, and if you’re in danger it will turn red or yellow. I’ve heard these have some other powers as well, but I’m not sure. They are more trustworthy than a Sneakoscope though. Hope you like it! Happy Birthday! -Hermione Harry looked back down at the Fenral. It was still a shade of violet. Then Harry picked up the other letter that was in Hermione’s box and opened it. He read: Dear Harry, Sorry I haven’t written you in so long. I’ve been in Brazil on vacation for the past three weeks with my parents. We’ve been seeing all the ancient temples, and I think I even caught a glimpse of the Brazilian Wizardry school! It wasn’t as big as Hogwarts, but it was in a temple, so there’s no telling how deep under ground it went. I got an owl from Ron saying that you were going to spend the last couple of weeks at his house before school started, and he’s also invited me over to stay as well, so I’ll see you there. Hope you had a great birthday, and a good summer so far. With love, -Hermione Harry laughed, now he understood where Hermione had gotten the Fenral. He put down Hermione’s letter and his fenral, and looked around his room, almost everything was packed away in his trunk, waiting for the Weasley’s to come and take him to the Burrow. Harry thought for a moment about how they were going to get there. In Harry’s second year he had gotten there by Mr. Weasley’s flying car. Before his third year he had stayed in the Leaky Cauldron and just gone to King’s Cross Station with the Weasley’s by way of cars provided by the Ministry of Magic. In Harry’s fourth year, Fred, George, Ron and Mr. Weasley had come to Harry’s house by floo powder and taken him back to the Burrow. That was probably how they were getting there today, Harry thought, by floo powder in Fred and George’s shop. Harry put the box with Hermione’s letter, birthday card, and fenral into his trunk, along with his unicorn essay, quill and ink, before he closed the lid and latched it shut. Just as Harry stood up from latching his trunk shut, he heard a familiar voice shout to him from the alley bellow. “Harry! Hey Harry!” Harry sprinted to his open window again and looked down at his best friend, Ron. “Hi Ron!” Harry shouted back, “Come on up!” he shouted as he waved. “Ok Harry!” Ron shouted as he ran towards the Leaky Cauldron. A minute later, Ron came bounding through Harry’s open door, a big grin on his face. “Hi Harry, ready to go?” Ron asked, his left hand still on the doorknob, and his right hand on the doorframe. Harry smiled, “I thought you’d never ask.” Harry went over to his wardrobe and picked up Hedwig’s cage with her in it, while Ron took hold of one end of Harry’s trunk. Harry walked back over to his trunk and placed Hedwig’s cage on top of it, before he grabbed the other end of his trunk, and they both lifted it and walked out of the room. Harry and Ron carried Harry’s trunk down the stairs and into the Leaky Cauldron, where they set it on the floor. Harry walked over to the bar where Tom the innkeeper stood, and set the key to his room on the counter. Tom looked up at Harry. “Checking out Mr. Potter?” he asked with a smile. “Yes sir,” replied Harry, digging into his pockets for his sack of wizard money. Tom reached under the counter again and pulled out the same little black book that he had when Harry checked in almost a week before. He opened it up, found Harry’s name and said, “That’ll be two galeons and a sickle Mr. Potter.” Harry opened his bag and pulled out two large round gold coins, and a smaller silver one, and then handed them to the bartender. “Hope your stay was well, come again,” said Tom. Harry and Ron picked up his trunk again, and they walked out to the back yard where the secret entrance to Diagon Alley was. Ron took out his wand, and tapped the third brick to the right above the trashcan with it. Immediately the bricks in front of them began to rearrange themselves, and within a few seconds, a great arch was in front of them, and beyond that, lay Diagon Alley. Harry was used to this by now, but it still amazed him every time he saw the brick wall transform into the gateway to Diagon Alley. Harry and Ron picked up the trunk again and walked through the arch toward Fred and George’s shop. When they finally got inside Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, they were both a little out of breath. They set Harry’s trunk down, and stood there a moment breathing in gasps of air. Finally Ron said, “Harry, what do you keep in here?” Harry turned to Ron and smiled, “The same as you.” They both stood there for a moment more before Fred and George walked into the front of their shop from the back room. “There you two are,” said Fred. “Yeah, it took you long enough,” said George, a small smile coming over his face. Ron looked over to them both; he looked like he wanted to charge and knock their heads together. George, seeing the look on Ron’s face said, “Well Harry, we’ll see you at home when we’re done here, we don’t close till six.” “Right,” said Fred, “here’s the floo powder. He held out a small, shiny wooden bowl for Harry to take some floo powder out of. “Thanks,” said Harry. He took a large pinch of floo powder, and threw it into the fire, which immediately turned green and made the flames rise. He and Ron picked up his trunk and carried it into the fire, and stood it on end, before Ron stepped back out and said, “I’ll come through after you with Hedwig.” Harry gave Ron the thumbs up sign, and then shouted, “The Burrow!” At these words, Harry began to spin very fast. He watched Fred, George, Ron, Hedwig and the prank shop disappear from in front of him, and watched many fire places flash in front of him. So much ash was flying about that Harry didn’t even have a chance to see what the rooms beyond the grates looked like. Finally, Harry, holding onto his trunk tightly, started to slow down. When he had almost come to a stop, he caught a glimpse of Ginny standing in front of the Weasley’s fireplace. Harry stepped forward quickly, still holding the end of his trunk, and onto the hearthrug. “Hi Harry!” Ginny said brightly, “Mum! He’s here!” she called to Mrs. Weasley. Harry pulled his trunk out of the fireplace to make room for Ron. He knew all too well what happened if there wasn’t room for a wizard to come through on the receiving end of a trip by floo powder. Harry smiled slightly as he remembered the summer before his fourth year, when Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron had gotten stuck in his aunt and uncle’s boarded up fireplace. “Oh hello Harry dear,” said Mrs. Weasley brightly as she came bustling into the living room. “Hi Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, pulling his trunk still further out of the fireplace. Ginny moved over to help Harry. No sooner than they had lifted it up off of the rug, flames once again shot up in the fireplace and Ron stepped through, holding Hedwig’s cage. Harry noticed that she was no longer sleeping, and looked rather unhappy with the unsettling ride she had just had. “Why don’t you three take Harry’s things upstairs to Ron’s room, and then I’ll serve lunch,” she said, walking away towards the kitchen, where Harry, Ron and Ginny heard knives and silverware start to clink, no doubt as Mrs. Weasley was making sandwiches or something of the sort for them to eat. Harry and Ginny carried Harry’s trunk up the stairs as Ron followed them with Hedwig and her cage. They passed a couple of doors, on the left, one of them Harry recognized as Percy’s. “Say Ron,” said Harry, as he and Ginny set his trunk down awkwardly on the stairs so they could rest, (carrying a trunk up the stairs was a lot harder than down the stairs), “what’s been going on with Percy?” Ron’s face twisted into a look that looked to Harry like Ron never wanted to hear the name ‘Percy’ again, before Ron said, “I don’t know,” rather grumpily. “Bill said he spoke to him a few weeks ago,” Ginny piped in. Ginny looked hopeful, sad, and disgusted all at the same time, which seemed to Harry an appropriate combination when dealing with the Percy situation. Harry remembered of the fight Ron had told him of between Percy, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the previous summer. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had supported Dumbledore and Harry, and their version of how things happened and that Voldemort had come back to power, but Percy however chose to support Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, and his opinion that Voldemort had not come back to power, and that Harry was a liar and Dumbledore had just wanted to take over Fudge’s position as Minister of Magic. During the fight, Percy had denounced being a Weasley, and moved out promptly. Most of the Weasley’s had not heard from him since, with the exception of Ron, who had received a letter from him sometime during their fifth year, congratulating him on becoming a prefect, and also telling Ron to stay away from Harry because he was dangerous and would ruin Ron’s reputation. Harry decided not to pursue this conversation any further. There were things he didn’t want to talk about, so he certainly wasn’t going to make Ron and Ginny talk about something they didn’t want to. After resting another minute or two, Harry and Ginny picked his trunk back up and continued on their way up the stairs, Ron and Hedwig close behind them. Finally the three of them came to the landing with Ron’s room on it. They carried the trunk through a door that had peeling letters on it that said: Ronald’s Room, and into the room, which was covered in a violent shade of orange. Ron’s walls were covered in both old and new posters of his favorite Quidditch team, The Chudley Cannons. Ron’s bedspread was also orange, with pictures of the seven Quidditch players flying around on their broomsticks. Harry and Ginny set Harry’s trunk down in the center of Ron’s floor, and Ron put Hedwig’s cage on top of that. Harry opened the cage door for her to fly out and out through Ron’s open window if she wished, but instead she just hooted and turned around, showing Harry, Ron and Ginny her backside. Hedwig was apparently mad at Harry and Ron for the bumpy ride, but too tired from her long flight from Brazil to go and find someplace else to sleep. Harry just shrugged, and the three of them walked out of Ron’s room, and back down the stairs. “When’s Hermione supposed to get here?” Harry asked Ron. “Not until tomorrow,” he replied, “She’s just getting back from Brazil today I think,” he finished. When the three of them finally got back downstairs and into the kitchen, they were considerably hungrier than they had been before. Ron’s eyes lit up when he saw the plate of sandwiches Mrs. Weasley had made for them, sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. Harry, Ron and Ginny sat down and began to eat. Ron was so hungry that he had a sandwich in each hand, plus one on his plate. “So how was your summer dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked Harry as she turned around and brought three glasses of ice cold juice to the table, and then went back to work at the kitchen counter. Harry swallowed the chunk of ham and cheese sandwich he had in his mouth and answered, “Ok I guess, and yours?” “Oh, well, you know how things are around here, Arthur is off to the ministry every morning, and Fred and George are off to their joke shop.” Harry felt a small pang of guilt at these words, for it had been he who had given the twins all his prize money from the Tri-Wizard tournament two years ago. Mrs. Weasley continued, “And Ron and Ginny stay home all day.” Harry noticed that she hadn’t mentioned Percy’s name. If it hadn’t been for that fight, Percy would have probably still been living at home. Harry knew that Bill and Charlie, Ron’s eldest two brothers, hadn’t lived at home for years, because Bill worked as a curse breaker for a branch of Gringotts bank in Egypt, and Charlie worked with Dragons in Romania, but they were older, and Harry knew that Mrs. Weasley probably hadn’t expected Percy to move out for another couple of years. Harry, Ron and Ginny finished their lunch silently, and then Ginny went upstairs to finish some homework, while Ron and Harry lay on the rug in the living room playing Gob-stones. Soon the afternoon faded into early evening, and before Harry knew it, two of the hands on the Weasley’s family clock, the ones that read Fred, and George, swung from Work, to Home, and Harry and Ron heard their voices calling from the kitchen. “Mum! Were home!” hollered Fred. Mrs. Weasley came hurrying down the stairs and into the kitchen. A few seconds later Fred and George walked into the living room, each drying themselves off with a green towel. Ron laughed and asked, “What are you two so wet for?” “It’s raining out Ron,” said George, “what did you think, we apparated into a lake on accident?” At this, Ginny sniggered rather loudly, and Fred said, “Don’t answer that.” Harry and Ron gave up their places on the rug in front of the fire so that Fred and George could dry off better, as Mrs. Weasley started to chuckle to herself and told Harry, “A few weeks ago, they accidentally apparated into some poor dears pond just as she stepped outside to do a bit of gardening.” Ron and Harry both broke out laughing too before Fred and George shot them and Ginny a sour look. “Mum, do you have to tell every living soul about that?” asked George, his face turning only slightly red. “No dear, of course I don’t, but consider it pay back for all those years I got owls every week from Hogwarts about you two.” She began to chuckle again, only a little more loudly. Now even Fred and George began to laugh; they knew it was true how they were always getting into trouble at Hogwarts for pulling pranks on Filch the caretaker, or other mean teachers and students. Soon the laughter died down, and Ginny went back to reading her book in the armchair by the fire, Harry and Ron went back to playing Wizards Chess, (They had tired of playing Gobstones), and Fred and George still sat in front of the fire, drying off and going over an inventory list. Mrs. Weasley went back to the kitchen to make dinner. Harry looked up at the clock above the mantle piece, and noticed that seven of the hands pointed to home, while Mr. Weasley’s still pointed to work, and Percy’s, Percy’s hand hadn’t been taken down yet. Harry wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had just forgotten to take it down yet, or if they hadn’t wanted to take it down yet. Nevertheless, Percy’s hand pointed to work as well. Another twenty minutes passed before they all heard Mr. Weasley’s voice coming from the kitchen. “Oh thank you Molly, don’t know where that rain storm came from,” Mr. Weasley said as he walked into the living room with Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley was also holding a white towel and drying off, and now it was Ginny’s turn to give up her seat by the fire so her dad could dry off. Mr. Weasley walked over to the armchair and sat down, trying to dry his hair with the towel, which made it look slightly untidy. Then he spotted Harry and Ron lying on the floor playing chess, just as one of Ron’s knights smashed Harry’s queen spectacularly, making a loud crash and breaking noise. “Hello Harry, glad to see you made it here ok. Has your summer been good so far?” he asked. Harry looked up at Mr. Weasley, still drying off with the towel, “It’s been ok,” Harry said before looking back down to his game of chess with Ron. Out of the corner of Harry’s eye he could see Mr. Weasley exchange glances with his wife. Harry knew they were both worried about him, but he was thankful that so far nobody had expressed their sympathy with more than a look. After a few seconds of silence, Mrs. Weasley said, “Alright, dinner’s ready you lot, into the kitchen.” Everybody stood up and walked over to the wooden table. Without Bill, Charlie, and Percy, there was just enough room at the small table for the seven of them. Harry sat with Ron on his left, George on his right, and Fred next to George at the end of the table. Next to Fred, on the other side of the table sat Ginny, then Mrs. Weasley, and then on the end next to Ron, Mr. Weasley. For dinner that night, Mrs. Weasley served mashed potatoes, turkey, green beans, peas, carrots, rolls, and chicken, along with milk, juice and tea. After dinner Mrs. Weasley brought an apple pie and a big bowel of treacle tart over to the table for desert. Like always, Mrs. Weasley made Harry eat second and third helpings of everything, saying, “You’re so thin Harry dear.” After they had all eaten, they migrated back into the living room next to the fire; Mr. Weasley, still slightly wet, moved his armchair a little closer to it. Ginny sat on the floor and played Gobstones with Harry, while Ron watched and claimed to play winner. Mrs. Weasley sat in a chair a little further back from the fire knitting what looked like the beginnings of a green and red sweater, while Fred and George sat in a corner on the other side of the fire looking over what was probably another inventory list. After Ginny lost their game of gobstones to Harry for a second time, she said that she still had some homework to finish, and bade everyone good night and went upstairs. Ron then took Ginny’s place playing Gobstones. Another half hour passed before Harry had won one game and Ron had won one game. Then Fred and George stood up and began to say their good nights when Harry looked up at the clock that hung above the mantelpiece, and it took Harry a moment to realize what he was seeing. “Er…Mr. Weasley,” Harry said slowly. “Yes Harry?” he asked, looking up from the fire and over at Harry. “Mr. Weasley, look at Percy’s hand on the clock,” Harry said, pointing up at the clock. Not only did Mr. Weasley look up at the clock, but so did Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and even Fred and George stopped their ascent up the stairs. What they saw astonished them all, because it was the last thing any of them had expected to see. Percy’s hand was halfway between the words Lost, and Home. Exactly half way. “Arthur?” Mrs. Weasley asked uncertainly, “Arthur, what does it mean? You don’t think he’s in trouble do you?” Just at that moment a lightning bolt flashed somewhere in the stormy sky above them, and lit up the room through a window. “I don’t know Molly,” he told her. Harry thought that Mr. Weasley sounded just as worried as Mrs. Weasley did. Harry knew that no matter how mad they might ever get at one of their children, that they would always still be worried about them when they needed to be. Both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood up at the same time, followed by Harry and Ron. Fred and George just stood there on the stairs, each with one hand on the rail. Fred seemed to still be staring at the clock, thinking intently, while George looked around him to the worried faces of his mother and father. “Oh Arthur, we should go look for him,” said Mrs. Weasley, almost in tears. “Yes, Fred, George, Harry, Ron, get your coats and wands, and meet me outside, Molly, you stay here with Ginny incase he shows up here,” Mr. Weasley instructed. Fred and George hurried upstairs, shouting back at Harry and Ron that they would get their coats for them and bring them down. Harry followed Mr. Weasley to the door in the kitchen while Ron put on his sneakers, and Mrs. Weasley just stood there, looking back up at the clock, her hands together. Harry could hear the rain pounding against the windows and roof, and when Harry and Mr. Weasley got to the front door Harry expected a rush of water to come through it and flood the kitchen floor when Mr. Weasley opened it. Instead, when Mr. Weasley opened the door, he and Harry found a very soaked and sorrowful looking Percy standing in front of them, looking down at his shoes, with rain pounding down on his head and neck. When Percy heard the door open, he looked up into his father’s eyes. Mr. Weasley and Percy just stood there looking into each other’s eyes for a minute. Harry thought that out of all the times he had ever seen Percy, he now looked more human than Harry had ever seen him. After a few more seconds Mr. Weasley asked uncertainly, “Son?” Percy looked back down at his shoes for a second before he looked back up into his dad’s eyes and said, “Dad, I’m sorry for all the stuff I said, and…” Percy stood there for another second or two, rain washing all down his face, his hair flat on his head and said, “and I wanted to say, that I’m proud to be a Weasley.” Percy looked straight into his father’s eyes. Mr. Weasley stood there for a second more, and Harry couldn’t tell if he was going to hug Percy or shut the door, but before Harry could finish his thought, Mr. Weasley reached out and took Percy into a big hug, “Percy.” Mr. Weasley backed up into the house, and Harry closed the door so no more rain would come in, and because Mr. Weasley and Percy were still hugging each other. Harry distinctly heard the swish of a clock arm, followed by Mrs. Weasley breaking down and crying. Harry was quite sure, that at that moment, Percy’s hand had swung from Lost, to Home. More chapters to come soon... |