Prologue
Despite his continuing determination to ignore Harry, Uncle Vernon couldn't help shuddering when what looked like a hyperactive furball shot through the kitchen window and landed amidst Harry's meagre portion of bacon.
"What on earth is that, boy?" he bellowed, spraying Harry with crumbs.
"It's Pig."
"Pig? Don't be stupid boy, what is it?"
Harry sighed. "Pig, Ron's owl."
"Bloody wizards," muttered Uncle Vernon ominously. "Why can't they just call the damned thing an owl, instead of some other, ridiculous..."
"Actually, its name's Pigwidgeon and it..." Harry's voice trailed off at the look on his uncle's face. He took the letter from Pig's talon and read it, ducking as the owl zoomed off, back around the room again. Then, after scribbling down a couple of words, and grinning broadly, he called Pig to him and threw him out of the window.
"Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted.
"I'm being picked up in about an hour."
"What?" Aunt Petunia sat bolt upright.
"Yes." Then Harry added brightly for good measure, "They'll be travelling the Muggle way, no-one'll notice them. Not unless the neighbours have nothing better to do and spend all their time watching everyone who troops up the garden path."
"Vernon," gasped Aunt Petunia. "What'll they think?"
Harry observed her dismay with a feeling of elation. He didn't think it was necessary to tell the Dursleys that it'd only be Ron and the twins collecting him; panicking about how they would explain away Moody wouldn't do them any harm for another hour.
Chapter 1
"Ginny!" Ginny looked up from her breakfast, leaning back in her chair to speak to Mrs Weasley, who was bustling down the stairs, brandishing her wand in one hand, Errol hanging limply from her other. "Yes Mum?"
"Where are your brothers?" They'd done it again, Ginny thought. Disappeared off to goodness knows where, without even telling her that they were going. It really was too bad; just wait until they got home.
"You know dear, if it wasn't for Ron having disappeared as well, I'd have just assumed that Fred and George had gone to work early again."
"They've probably gone to pick up Harry, Mum." She smiled bitterly to herself as she thought of the trouble that they were going to be in with Mrs Weasley when they got back; ever since that incident in Ron's second year, they hadn't been trusted. It was their fault for leaving her out again. "I know that they didn't want him to think that they were leaving him with the Muggles on purpose. You know what a fuss he made last summer; he really did go on at them. None of us wanted to go through that again."
Mrs Weasley turned sharply to look at Ginny. "Ginny, that's not like you!" she said. "You know that Harry was under a lot of stress at that point."
Ginny shrugged. She didn't really care what Harry did, at least, that's what she constantly told herself. "Who's the letter for?"
They both looked down at Errol, who was waving his wings feebly in an attempt to fly on to the table.
"Oh my goodness, I quite forgot!" said Mrs Weasley, lifting him up to peer anxiously at him, before placing him on the kitchen table. "Two letters, both from Dean Thomas."
She looked at Ginny. If she expected any kind of interesting response she was disappointed; Ginny merely smiled, and then asked curiously, "Two?"
"Yes two. One for you, and the other for the twins and Ron."
Ginny leaned over her plate, her breakfast half-eaten, to take both letters from Errol's grasp. He gave a sort of sigh, and then flopped off the table and into a bowl full of dirty plates.
Mrs Weasley picked him up, and, with a resigned expression on her face, chose to ignore the fact that Ginny had both of the letters.
Dear Ginny,
Thanks for your letter. I agree – Sunday was great fun, especially the picnic. I don't think any of my family will ever forget you laughing, as we rode round the fields on my broomstick. I know that I can't.
I'm glad you enjoyed the match. I wasn't sure whther you'd like football, seeing that it's a Muggle sport and there isn't a broomstick in sight. My sisters were absolutely flabbergasted when I told them that we'd gone to a game. They said that I was completely useless with girls and that a (and here I quote directly) 'gorgeous girl like Ginny Weasly' will probably leave me as soon as someone more 'romantically-minded' comes along. I agree with them - at least about the wonderful girlfriend part – I still can't believe how lucky I am to have a wonderful girlfriend like you.
Well, gotta go, I've still got a potions essay to write. See you soon.
Love
Dean
xxx
She smiled as she put her letter down, and then frowned as she picked up the second letter. It was short but to the point.
To Ron, Fred and George,
Don't worry; you've got nothing to worry about. I wouldn't dream of hurting Ginny and I certainly wouldn't let anyone else hurt her either. Also Ron, I promise you, I won't encourage or persuade Ginny to do anything that she doesn't want to do; there'll be no need for any impaling. She's a great girl and I'll make sure that I look after her.
See you at Hogwarts
Dean
"Well Harry, here we are," said Ron, broom in hand. "Home sweet home."
"Yeah Harry, we couldn't leave you with the Dursleys all summer," added Fred. "Anyway, we'd better be off."
"Business is blooming though, Fred," put in George. "We could always stay and have a cup of tea with Harry."
Harry grinned at them. "Thanks you three. It's great to be back here again and see everyone."
Ron unlocked the door and they walked in.
Mrs Weasley stood in front of them. Immediately Harry felt the twins tense up beside him, and Ron gulped audibly. He braced himself for the explosion. Then, to his amazement, she put her finger to her lips.
"You boys had better creep upstairs quietly. I'll deal with you later. Ginny's furious," she whispered furtively.
"Why?" ashed Ron, his face displaying his confusion.
"For goodness sake Ron, keep your voice down. Do you want her to hear you? If you must know, we received two letters, about fifteen minutes ago, from Dean Thomas – one which was addressed to you three. Ginny read both of thm. She didn't seem too pleased with what she read."
"But we only..." Ron began, but he didn't get far.
"Ron!"
He winced.
"Fred, George!"
"On second thoughts Harry, we'd better leave for work now."
"Yeah, we don't want to be late."
"Oh no you don't!" Ginny stormed out of the kitchen, her fist clenched tightly around Dean's second letter.
"Oh dear," said Ron.
"Oh dear? I'll give you 'Oh dear', Ronald Weasley! Who gave you permission to write to my boyfriend and warn him that if he didn't behave, you'd kill him?"
"Ah," began Fred.
"Well," George started.
"We were only looking out for you, Gn," said Ron.
"Ron! I'm nearly sixteen! I can look after myself! Honestly, brothers!" and with that, Ginny turned on her heel as if about to stalk out, before turning back and saying, with a smirk on her face, "It's not as if we did anything that bad – it was all legal."
Ron's eyes almost popped out of his had. "But...Gin...that's really...I mean... you should be...well...I don't know what to say!"
"That makes a change, I don't think!" she spat out, before really tuning and walking out.
"Well," said Fred. "She certainly knows how to make an exit."
Ginny slammed her bedroom door loudly behind her and flung herself on to her bed. She lay back, watching the enchanted clouds floating lazily along her ceiling. Hermione had charmed it last year to look like the sky on a summer's day, while she'd stayed in the summer. It had been rather advanced charm-work for a teenage witch; but then again, Hermione was no ordinary witch.
Ginny sighed before sitting up. It wasn't fair, everyone treated her like a baby and she wasn't one, not anymore. She'd been possessed by Him and she'd fought the Death Eaers in the Department of Mysteries. If it came to that, she'd faced even more than Fred and George. She though again of Tom. He'd treated her like an adult, he hadn't treated her like a child; all right, he'd tried to kill her, but at least he didn't pretend she was innocent and treat her as if she was. Oh bother her brothers; they all acted as if she didn't know...well...what they did behind her back. She wasn't deaf; it wasn't her fault that Bill forgot to ut silencing charms on his rom that time in his sixth year. They'd all be shocked if they could read her mind, but she just wasn't innocent anymore.
There was a knock at her door.
"Yes?"
Harry put his head round. "Hi."
"Oh, it's you. I mean," she amended, seeing his lightly taken aback look. "I thought it was Mum or one of the twins. Look I'm sorry about spoiling you arrival. I was just so annoyed..."
"Don't worry about it, it was actually quite funny. Reminded me of my arrival at the Burrow in my second year."
"I remember – Mum was furious with the boys for picking you up in Dad's flying car."
"Yeah, it wasn't exactly an ordinary welcome. Look, I just wanted to say hi, and to tell you that Pig's just come back from Hermione's. She's traveling up to London tomorrow; we're going to meet her in Diagon Alley and we were wondering whether you wanted to come; only the others didn't have the guts to come and ask."
"Of course I'll come. "Only..."
"Yes?"
"Tell Mum that I'm writing to Luna."
"To Luna?" Harry looked completely bewildered.
"That's right, Luna Lovegood. You see, I promised her that we'd meet up at some point."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
"And Harry, we're all really sorry about Sirius. Grimmauld Place isn't the same without him. We couldn't bear it, it seems so empty. That's why we're here and not there."
Harry froze for a second, taking in what she had said. Then he quietly left the room.
Mr Lovegood, editor of the infamous paper, The Quibbler, glanced up as his daughter drifted into his study. His table, covered as it was with photos from the Heliopath expedition, gave an audible sigh of relief as Luna swept some into a box, making some space for the steaming mug of butterbeer which she absentmindedly placed down.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"That's alright. Daddy?"
"Hmm?" Mr Lovegood tore himself away from a fascinating report on 'the impact of garden gnomes on today's society' and looked up at his hovering daughter, who was in fact, literally hovering in mid-air.
"The rogue kitchen cabinet again?"
"Yes, you'll have to fix it at some point. Well, I was wondering whether I could go to Ginny Weasley's house today for a week?"
"Ginny Weasley? Who's she?"
"One of my school friends. And Harry Potter's going to be there."
"Harry Potter? Great interviewee," Mr Lovegood went back to the report. "Yes darling, you can go."
"Thanks, I'll see you in about a week then? At about ten?"
"Hmm." Mr Lovegood was reabsorbed in the report.
Luna paused, smiling vaguely, and then went to send the owl back to Ginny.
Ron was eating cold toast rather dejectedly when Ginny finally came down. He saw her smile in an apologetically way at Harry, and then Harry smile back. Maybe she'd cooled down and wasn't as cross with him anymore. She saw him look at her and glared.
"Look Gin, I'm really sorry," he blurted out.
"Not good enough."
"What?"
"You aren't getting off that easily. You're going to beg for forgiveness." He heard Harry snort beside him. Great, this was all he needed.
"Alright, I promise I won't bother your boyfriends ever again." He could say that with a clear conscience; dark looks didn't count as bothering.
"Or threaten to murder them in cold blood?"
That was too much. "Ginny, I've never done that! I simply..."
"...encourage them never to come anywhere near me?" she finished for him. He looked uncomfortable. "No Ginny...well...I mean..."
"What's the point of going out with someone if you don't let them coming within touching distance. No, don't interrupt Ron, I expect that's the best apology I'm going to get from you, but your one to Dean had better be a lot better."
"What?"
"Yes, I'll be reading it before you send it."
"What?"
"Oh and by the way, we're meeting up with Luna in Diagon Alley."
"What?"
"Yes...stop repeating yourself Ron...I'm planning to buy some new dress robes with the money Charlie gave me for my birthday, and she's going to help me choose...don't pull that face Ron, she's got perfectly good taste in clothes... and you're to be polite to her as she'll be coming round the Alley with us and Hermione. See you later," and she swept out of the room, leaving him gaping behind her.
"Well," he remarked to Harry. "She's getting a bit above herself. You'd think I'd done something wrong!"
It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when the woman stood at the front door of the Burrow. Her hair, scraped back into a bun, was unnaturally neat, and her nose resembled an upside down teapot's spout. She brushed some miniscule flecks of dust off her robes before rapping twice, smartly on the door, glancing over her shoulder in a somewhat furtive manner. The door opened and Molly Weasley stood there. Her eyes widened slightly, and then she pulled the woman inside, closing the door quickly behind her.
She turned to face the woman, who, surprisingly, was screwing up her face as if she was concentrating very hard. There was a 'pop' and she changed appearances all together. Before Mooy Weasley stood Nymphadora Tonks, slumping against the wall and breathing very hard.
"Wotcher Molly! Gotta be quick; got to speak to everyone else as well – Dumbledore wants to know whether the Order can meet here tomorrow night."
Molly paled visibly, "What for?"
"Dunno, we're all as much in the dark as you," said Tonks.
"Who's going to be coming?" asked Molly, working out calculations for dinner.
"The whole Order's gonna come, even Dmbledore himself. Oh yeah, he's asked Bill to bring the French girl with him, what's her name, Flower or something?"
"Fleur, yes," murmered the older woman. "There's no mention of what this is all about?"
"Nope!" replied Tonks. "And I was told to be completely unrecognizable, so that even if people did try to follow me, I'd be undercover."
"People following you? But that's...that's very worrying Tonks. Don't you think...?"
"Don't worry Molly, I changed so many times on my way here that I'll have to rest for a week to get over it!" she joked. "No one knows that I came here. Oh, and I was told to ask you whether the Longbottoms could come, Neville and his grandother? It's apparently got something to do with them."
"Of course they can, but that'll be twenty-eight people with all of my lot! I don't know how we'll fit them all in!"
"It's nothing that a few enlargement charms won't sort out. Well, I've delivered the message, I'd better be off; I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yes, tomorrow."
"Give my love to the kids and tell the twins that their Extendable Ears are wnderful. The Order's found them very useful so far!" and wit that, she Disapparated.
Molly Weasley stood there for a moment, shaking her head, and then bustled through to the kitchen, where she immediatelt set to work with domestic charms, peeling potatoes and chopping carrots.
When Harry and Ron wandered into the kitchen later that afternoon, after having spent a good hour swooping around on their broomsticks, they were amazed to see the huge pile of vegetables that were on the kitchen table. Saucepans of potatoes were bubbling on the cooker, and about three knives had finished peeling a mound of carrots and were beginning to chop them.
When Mrs Weasley caught sight of them, she called out instructons: "Ron, you do the gravy and Harry, you take charge of the parsnips; I believe that Muggles do them quite well."
"What on earth?" asked Ron.
"The Order's coming for dinner tomorrow night and there's going to be a meeting afterwards. There'll be about twenty-eight of us, so I though it'd probably be best if we started on the vegetables now. I'm planning on doing a roast."
"The Order? Wicked! D'you think thay'll let us come to the meeting?" Ron begged.
Harry had already started peeling the parsnips.
"I shouldn't think so...do start the gravy Ron...and I think that Dumbledore will be the one to decide who comes to the meeting."
Harry's head snapped up, "Dumbledore's going to be here? But isn't he busy doing stuff for the Ministry?"
Mrs Weasley sighed, "I don't know boys, I only know what Tonks told me: that there's a meeting tomorrow night; the whole of the Order's coming; as well as the Longbottoms."
"The Longbottoms?"
"Yes, Neville and his grandmother."
"Hey Harry," Ron looked excited as he twirled his wand over a saucepan, gravy gushing out from its end. "D'you think they've found out a way to cure Neville'd parents?"
Harry looked doubtful, "I don't think so, it'd be all over the Daily Prphet if they had; the Ministry would want to show that they're doing something right."
Mrs Weasley sighed again; "Well. I don't know how I'm going to cope tomorrow. What with this meeting and with Hermione and Luna coming to stay..."
Ron's hand halted, mid-twirl, "Loony Luna's coming to stay?"
"Ronald Weasley! That's not nice! How dare you be so rude! If you even so much as suggest such a thing to the poor girl when she's staying, I'll make you wish that you'd never been born!"
Harry stifled a smile.
"I've never even so much as winced when we've had all of your friends round, and nowyou're making a fuss because you aren' best friends with Ginny's guest! Well, now I know what she meant about prejudices!"
Ron muttered sullenly under his breath as Mrs Weasley ranted. "Alright Mum, I'm sorry. I won't say it again."
Mrs Weasley sopped shouting. "I should hope not."
"But Ginny invited her?"
"Yes Ron, she is entitled to have someone round; you've had Harry round evey year, and Hermione quite a lot as well; she's never had anyone."
"Bet she did it on purpose," Ron muttered to Harry. "That'd be her idea of revenge."
Harry grinned. "You never know Ron, he muttered back. "You and Luna might get on."
The door of number nintey-three, Diagon Alley creaked open and a bell rang shrilly. Fred Weasley hurried out from a small room to behind the counter. "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, how may I help?"
He saw a tall, darkly-robed figure standing, his back to the counter.
"Excuse me?"
There was no response; the figure merely picked up a trick want, as if it hadn't heard Fred.
"George?" called Fred. "We've got a customer."
George hurried out, just as Fred had done minutes before, and stared at the figure. Then, before their very eyes, the figure suddenly moved, stabbing the toy chicken that had appeared in place of the wand in its hand, with a knife.
"Oi! Are you gonna pay for that?" shouted out George, his temper getting the better of him. "Who d'you think you are?"
The figure turned to look at him. She smiled cruelly, for it was a woman under that hood; the same woman who had tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into madness; the same woman whose charm had sent Sirius Black to his death. Bellatrix Lestrange. Fred knew instinctively who she was; the others had described her and she looked, despite the irony of it, very like Sirius.
"Well, if it isn't the brats of the blood traitor," she sneered, goading them, her hollow face twisted with bitterness. "Aren't you going to say anything, brats?"
She pulled out her wand.
Suddenly, a huge net came crashing down upon her, its charmed threads glinting silver.
Bellatrix snarled at them.
The twins jumped as the bell rang again, and Bill Weasley walked into the shop, Fleaur Delacour at his side. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded, looking from the twins to the woman, lying in a crumpled heap under the net.
"Let us introduce you, dear brother," said Fre, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice, "To Bellatrix Lestrange, murderer, torturer and loyal Death Eater."
"Good Lord! Have you called the Ministry?"
"We had a Ministry-alerting system installed last week," answered George. He was as white as a sheet, and clearly very shaken. "She won't be able to Apparate or harm us from under there."
Fleur looked at her curiously. "What waz ze doin' 'ere zough? Ze didn't 'urt eezer of you did ze?" she asked, turning to face the twins.
"No, ze, I mean she, didn't," answered Fred, grinning slightly.
At that moment Kingsley Shacklebolt flung open the door, and rushed in, followed by other Ministry officials. He pointed his wand round the room, "Nobody move until I say so!" Then he saw Bellatrix and lowered his wand. "Good grief. Fred, George, what on earth's going on here?"
"She just walked in," murmured George. "We...I..."
Kingsley nodded at him seriously, "You're lucky you caught her in that net, otherwise I doubt you'd still be standing there! Oh, hello Bill and, Miss Delacour, isn't it?
Bill glanced at him. "Kingsley, nice to see you, though I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances."
"Yez, eet zertainly iz. And pleaze call me Fleur," she extended a well- manicured hand out to him. He took it with the same faint smile that every man seemed to wear after coming into contact with her.
Bill coughed subtly, eyes dancing, and Kingsley quickly straightened up.
"I don't know what Fudge is going to say about this, I'd like to see him try and explain this one away," he remarked to Bill, still slightly flushed, and then he turned to the twins. "Don't worry about this, you two, we'll get it all sorted out."
They nodded.
"Oh, by the way," he lowered his voice so that the other Ministry officials behind him couldn't hear, "Have you got anymore of those Extendable Ears? They're very good for keeping an eye, or should I say an ear, on Fudge."
George drew himself up to his full height, which was all of five foot six, "We'd be hnoured to help!"
A 100% discount okay, Kingsley?" asked Fred.
"It's been nice doing business with you boys!"
Bill looked from the Ministry official to his two brothers and back again. He began to laugh...
Despite his continuing determination to ignore Harry, Uncle Vernon couldn't help shuddering when what looked like a hyperactive furball shot through the kitchen window and landed amidst Harry's meagre portion of bacon.
"What on earth is that, boy?" he bellowed, spraying Harry with crumbs.
"It's Pig."
"Pig? Don't be stupid boy, what is it?"
Harry sighed. "Pig, Ron's owl."
"Bloody wizards," muttered Uncle Vernon ominously. "Why can't they just call the damned thing an owl, instead of some other, ridiculous..."
"Actually, its name's Pigwidgeon and it..." Harry's voice trailed off at the look on his uncle's face. He took the letter from Pig's talon and read it, ducking as the owl zoomed off, back around the room again. Then, after scribbling down a couple of words, and grinning broadly, he called Pig to him and threw him out of the window.
"Uncle Vernon?"
Uncle Vernon grunted.
"I'm being picked up in about an hour."
"What?" Aunt Petunia sat bolt upright.
"Yes." Then Harry added brightly for good measure, "They'll be travelling the Muggle way, no-one'll notice them. Not unless the neighbours have nothing better to do and spend all their time watching everyone who troops up the garden path."
"Vernon," gasped Aunt Petunia. "What'll they think?"
Harry observed her dismay with a feeling of elation. He didn't think it was necessary to tell the Dursleys that it'd only be Ron and the twins collecting him; panicking about how they would explain away Moody wouldn't do them any harm for another hour.
Chapter 1
"Ginny!" Ginny looked up from her breakfast, leaning back in her chair to speak to Mrs Weasley, who was bustling down the stairs, brandishing her wand in one hand, Errol hanging limply from her other. "Yes Mum?"
"Where are your brothers?" They'd done it again, Ginny thought. Disappeared off to goodness knows where, without even telling her that they were going. It really was too bad; just wait until they got home.
"You know dear, if it wasn't for Ron having disappeared as well, I'd have just assumed that Fred and George had gone to work early again."
"They've probably gone to pick up Harry, Mum." She smiled bitterly to herself as she thought of the trouble that they were going to be in with Mrs Weasley when they got back; ever since that incident in Ron's second year, they hadn't been trusted. It was their fault for leaving her out again. "I know that they didn't want him to think that they were leaving him with the Muggles on purpose. You know what a fuss he made last summer; he really did go on at them. None of us wanted to go through that again."
Mrs Weasley turned sharply to look at Ginny. "Ginny, that's not like you!" she said. "You know that Harry was under a lot of stress at that point."
Ginny shrugged. She didn't really care what Harry did, at least, that's what she constantly told herself. "Who's the letter for?"
They both looked down at Errol, who was waving his wings feebly in an attempt to fly on to the table.
"Oh my goodness, I quite forgot!" said Mrs Weasley, lifting him up to peer anxiously at him, before placing him on the kitchen table. "Two letters, both from Dean Thomas."
She looked at Ginny. If she expected any kind of interesting response she was disappointed; Ginny merely smiled, and then asked curiously, "Two?"
"Yes two. One for you, and the other for the twins and Ron."
Ginny leaned over her plate, her breakfast half-eaten, to take both letters from Errol's grasp. He gave a sort of sigh, and then flopped off the table and into a bowl full of dirty plates.
Mrs Weasley picked him up, and, with a resigned expression on her face, chose to ignore the fact that Ginny had both of the letters.
Dear Ginny,
Thanks for your letter. I agree – Sunday was great fun, especially the picnic. I don't think any of my family will ever forget you laughing, as we rode round the fields on my broomstick. I know that I can't.
I'm glad you enjoyed the match. I wasn't sure whther you'd like football, seeing that it's a Muggle sport and there isn't a broomstick in sight. My sisters were absolutely flabbergasted when I told them that we'd gone to a game. They said that I was completely useless with girls and that a (and here I quote directly) 'gorgeous girl like Ginny Weasly' will probably leave me as soon as someone more 'romantically-minded' comes along. I agree with them - at least about the wonderful girlfriend part – I still can't believe how lucky I am to have a wonderful girlfriend like you.
Well, gotta go, I've still got a potions essay to write. See you soon.
Love
Dean
xxx
She smiled as she put her letter down, and then frowned as she picked up the second letter. It was short but to the point.
To Ron, Fred and George,
Don't worry; you've got nothing to worry about. I wouldn't dream of hurting Ginny and I certainly wouldn't let anyone else hurt her either. Also Ron, I promise you, I won't encourage or persuade Ginny to do anything that she doesn't want to do; there'll be no need for any impaling. She's a great girl and I'll make sure that I look after her.
See you at Hogwarts
Dean
"Well Harry, here we are," said Ron, broom in hand. "Home sweet home."
"Yeah Harry, we couldn't leave you with the Dursleys all summer," added Fred. "Anyway, we'd better be off."
"Business is blooming though, Fred," put in George. "We could always stay and have a cup of tea with Harry."
Harry grinned at them. "Thanks you three. It's great to be back here again and see everyone."
Ron unlocked the door and they walked in.
Mrs Weasley stood in front of them. Immediately Harry felt the twins tense up beside him, and Ron gulped audibly. He braced himself for the explosion. Then, to his amazement, she put her finger to her lips.
"You boys had better creep upstairs quietly. I'll deal with you later. Ginny's furious," she whispered furtively.
"Why?" ashed Ron, his face displaying his confusion.
"For goodness sake Ron, keep your voice down. Do you want her to hear you? If you must know, we received two letters, about fifteen minutes ago, from Dean Thomas – one which was addressed to you three. Ginny read both of thm. She didn't seem too pleased with what she read."
"But we only..." Ron began, but he didn't get far.
"Ron!"
He winced.
"Fred, George!"
"On second thoughts Harry, we'd better leave for work now."
"Yeah, we don't want to be late."
"Oh no you don't!" Ginny stormed out of the kitchen, her fist clenched tightly around Dean's second letter.
"Oh dear," said Ron.
"Oh dear? I'll give you 'Oh dear', Ronald Weasley! Who gave you permission to write to my boyfriend and warn him that if he didn't behave, you'd kill him?"
"Ah," began Fred.
"Well," George started.
"We were only looking out for you, Gn," said Ron.
"Ron! I'm nearly sixteen! I can look after myself! Honestly, brothers!" and with that, Ginny turned on her heel as if about to stalk out, before turning back and saying, with a smirk on her face, "It's not as if we did anything that bad – it was all legal."
Ron's eyes almost popped out of his had. "But...Gin...that's really...I mean... you should be...well...I don't know what to say!"
"That makes a change, I don't think!" she spat out, before really tuning and walking out.
"Well," said Fred. "She certainly knows how to make an exit."
Ginny slammed her bedroom door loudly behind her and flung herself on to her bed. She lay back, watching the enchanted clouds floating lazily along her ceiling. Hermione had charmed it last year to look like the sky on a summer's day, while she'd stayed in the summer. It had been rather advanced charm-work for a teenage witch; but then again, Hermione was no ordinary witch.
Ginny sighed before sitting up. It wasn't fair, everyone treated her like a baby and she wasn't one, not anymore. She'd been possessed by Him and she'd fought the Death Eaers in the Department of Mysteries. If it came to that, she'd faced even more than Fred and George. She though again of Tom. He'd treated her like an adult, he hadn't treated her like a child; all right, he'd tried to kill her, but at least he didn't pretend she was innocent and treat her as if she was. Oh bother her brothers; they all acted as if she didn't know...well...what they did behind her back. She wasn't deaf; it wasn't her fault that Bill forgot to ut silencing charms on his rom that time in his sixth year. They'd all be shocked if they could read her mind, but she just wasn't innocent anymore.
There was a knock at her door.
"Yes?"
Harry put his head round. "Hi."
"Oh, it's you. I mean," she amended, seeing his lightly taken aback look. "I thought it was Mum or one of the twins. Look I'm sorry about spoiling you arrival. I was just so annoyed..."
"Don't worry about it, it was actually quite funny. Reminded me of my arrival at the Burrow in my second year."
"I remember – Mum was furious with the boys for picking you up in Dad's flying car."
"Yeah, it wasn't exactly an ordinary welcome. Look, I just wanted to say hi, and to tell you that Pig's just come back from Hermione's. She's traveling up to London tomorrow; we're going to meet her in Diagon Alley and we were wondering whether you wanted to come; only the others didn't have the guts to come and ask."
"Of course I'll come. "Only..."
"Yes?"
"Tell Mum that I'm writing to Luna."
"To Luna?" Harry looked completely bewildered.
"That's right, Luna Lovegood. You see, I promised her that we'd meet up at some point."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
"And Harry, we're all really sorry about Sirius. Grimmauld Place isn't the same without him. We couldn't bear it, it seems so empty. That's why we're here and not there."
Harry froze for a second, taking in what she had said. Then he quietly left the room.
Mr Lovegood, editor of the infamous paper, The Quibbler, glanced up as his daughter drifted into his study. His table, covered as it was with photos from the Heliopath expedition, gave an audible sigh of relief as Luna swept some into a box, making some space for the steaming mug of butterbeer which she absentmindedly placed down.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
"That's alright. Daddy?"
"Hmm?" Mr Lovegood tore himself away from a fascinating report on 'the impact of garden gnomes on today's society' and looked up at his hovering daughter, who was in fact, literally hovering in mid-air.
"The rogue kitchen cabinet again?"
"Yes, you'll have to fix it at some point. Well, I was wondering whether I could go to Ginny Weasley's house today for a week?"
"Ginny Weasley? Who's she?"
"One of my school friends. And Harry Potter's going to be there."
"Harry Potter? Great interviewee," Mr Lovegood went back to the report. "Yes darling, you can go."
"Thanks, I'll see you in about a week then? At about ten?"
"Hmm." Mr Lovegood was reabsorbed in the report.
Luna paused, smiling vaguely, and then went to send the owl back to Ginny.
Ron was eating cold toast rather dejectedly when Ginny finally came down. He saw her smile in an apologetically way at Harry, and then Harry smile back. Maybe she'd cooled down and wasn't as cross with him anymore. She saw him look at her and glared.
"Look Gin, I'm really sorry," he blurted out.
"Not good enough."
"What?"
"You aren't getting off that easily. You're going to beg for forgiveness." He heard Harry snort beside him. Great, this was all he needed.
"Alright, I promise I won't bother your boyfriends ever again." He could say that with a clear conscience; dark looks didn't count as bothering.
"Or threaten to murder them in cold blood?"
That was too much. "Ginny, I've never done that! I simply..."
"...encourage them never to come anywhere near me?" she finished for him. He looked uncomfortable. "No Ginny...well...I mean..."
"What's the point of going out with someone if you don't let them coming within touching distance. No, don't interrupt Ron, I expect that's the best apology I'm going to get from you, but your one to Dean had better be a lot better."
"What?"
"Yes, I'll be reading it before you send it."
"What?"
"Oh and by the way, we're meeting up with Luna in Diagon Alley."
"What?"
"Yes...stop repeating yourself Ron...I'm planning to buy some new dress robes with the money Charlie gave me for my birthday, and she's going to help me choose...don't pull that face Ron, she's got perfectly good taste in clothes... and you're to be polite to her as she'll be coming round the Alley with us and Hermione. See you later," and she swept out of the room, leaving him gaping behind her.
"Well," he remarked to Harry. "She's getting a bit above herself. You'd think I'd done something wrong!"
It was about one o'clock in the afternoon when the woman stood at the front door of the Burrow. Her hair, scraped back into a bun, was unnaturally neat, and her nose resembled an upside down teapot's spout. She brushed some miniscule flecks of dust off her robes before rapping twice, smartly on the door, glancing over her shoulder in a somewhat furtive manner. The door opened and Molly Weasley stood there. Her eyes widened slightly, and then she pulled the woman inside, closing the door quickly behind her.
She turned to face the woman, who, surprisingly, was screwing up her face as if she was concentrating very hard. There was a 'pop' and she changed appearances all together. Before Mooy Weasley stood Nymphadora Tonks, slumping against the wall and breathing very hard.
"Wotcher Molly! Gotta be quick; got to speak to everyone else as well – Dumbledore wants to know whether the Order can meet here tomorrow night."
Molly paled visibly, "What for?"
"Dunno, we're all as much in the dark as you," said Tonks.
"Who's going to be coming?" asked Molly, working out calculations for dinner.
"The whole Order's gonna come, even Dmbledore himself. Oh yeah, he's asked Bill to bring the French girl with him, what's her name, Flower or something?"
"Fleur, yes," murmered the older woman. "There's no mention of what this is all about?"
"Nope!" replied Tonks. "And I was told to be completely unrecognizable, so that even if people did try to follow me, I'd be undercover."
"People following you? But that's...that's very worrying Tonks. Don't you think...?"
"Don't worry Molly, I changed so many times on my way here that I'll have to rest for a week to get over it!" she joked. "No one knows that I came here. Oh, and I was told to ask you whether the Longbottoms could come, Neville and his grandother? It's apparently got something to do with them."
"Of course they can, but that'll be twenty-eight people with all of my lot! I don't know how we'll fit them all in!"
"It's nothing that a few enlargement charms won't sort out. Well, I've delivered the message, I'd better be off; I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yes, tomorrow."
"Give my love to the kids and tell the twins that their Extendable Ears are wnderful. The Order's found them very useful so far!" and wit that, she Disapparated.
Molly Weasley stood there for a moment, shaking her head, and then bustled through to the kitchen, where she immediatelt set to work with domestic charms, peeling potatoes and chopping carrots.
When Harry and Ron wandered into the kitchen later that afternoon, after having spent a good hour swooping around on their broomsticks, they were amazed to see the huge pile of vegetables that were on the kitchen table. Saucepans of potatoes were bubbling on the cooker, and about three knives had finished peeling a mound of carrots and were beginning to chop them.
When Mrs Weasley caught sight of them, she called out instructons: "Ron, you do the gravy and Harry, you take charge of the parsnips; I believe that Muggles do them quite well."
"What on earth?" asked Ron.
"The Order's coming for dinner tomorrow night and there's going to be a meeting afterwards. There'll be about twenty-eight of us, so I though it'd probably be best if we started on the vegetables now. I'm planning on doing a roast."
"The Order? Wicked! D'you think thay'll let us come to the meeting?" Ron begged.
Harry had already started peeling the parsnips.
"I shouldn't think so...do start the gravy Ron...and I think that Dumbledore will be the one to decide who comes to the meeting."
Harry's head snapped up, "Dumbledore's going to be here? But isn't he busy doing stuff for the Ministry?"
Mrs Weasley sighed, "I don't know boys, I only know what Tonks told me: that there's a meeting tomorrow night; the whole of the Order's coming; as well as the Longbottoms."
"The Longbottoms?"
"Yes, Neville and his grandmother."
"Hey Harry," Ron looked excited as he twirled his wand over a saucepan, gravy gushing out from its end. "D'you think they've found out a way to cure Neville'd parents?"
Harry looked doubtful, "I don't think so, it'd be all over the Daily Prphet if they had; the Ministry would want to show that they're doing something right."
Mrs Weasley sighed again; "Well. I don't know how I'm going to cope tomorrow. What with this meeting and with Hermione and Luna coming to stay..."
Ron's hand halted, mid-twirl, "Loony Luna's coming to stay?"
"Ronald Weasley! That's not nice! How dare you be so rude! If you even so much as suggest such a thing to the poor girl when she's staying, I'll make you wish that you'd never been born!"
Harry stifled a smile.
"I've never even so much as winced when we've had all of your friends round, and nowyou're making a fuss because you aren' best friends with Ginny's guest! Well, now I know what she meant about prejudices!"
Ron muttered sullenly under his breath as Mrs Weasley ranted. "Alright Mum, I'm sorry. I won't say it again."
Mrs Weasley sopped shouting. "I should hope not."
"But Ginny invited her?"
"Yes Ron, she is entitled to have someone round; you've had Harry round evey year, and Hermione quite a lot as well; she's never had anyone."
"Bet she did it on purpose," Ron muttered to Harry. "That'd be her idea of revenge."
Harry grinned. "You never know Ron, he muttered back. "You and Luna might get on."
The door of number nintey-three, Diagon Alley creaked open and a bell rang shrilly. Fred Weasley hurried out from a small room to behind the counter. "Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, how may I help?"
He saw a tall, darkly-robed figure standing, his back to the counter.
"Excuse me?"
There was no response; the figure merely picked up a trick want, as if it hadn't heard Fred.
"George?" called Fred. "We've got a customer."
George hurried out, just as Fred had done minutes before, and stared at the figure. Then, before their very eyes, the figure suddenly moved, stabbing the toy chicken that had appeared in place of the wand in its hand, with a knife.
"Oi! Are you gonna pay for that?" shouted out George, his temper getting the better of him. "Who d'you think you are?"
The figure turned to look at him. She smiled cruelly, for it was a woman under that hood; the same woman who had tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into madness; the same woman whose charm had sent Sirius Black to his death. Bellatrix Lestrange. Fred knew instinctively who she was; the others had described her and she looked, despite the irony of it, very like Sirius.
"Well, if it isn't the brats of the blood traitor," she sneered, goading them, her hollow face twisted with bitterness. "Aren't you going to say anything, brats?"
She pulled out her wand.
Suddenly, a huge net came crashing down upon her, its charmed threads glinting silver.
Bellatrix snarled at them.
The twins jumped as the bell rang again, and Bill Weasley walked into the shop, Fleaur Delacour at his side. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded, looking from the twins to the woman, lying in a crumpled heap under the net.
"Let us introduce you, dear brother," said Fre, a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice, "To Bellatrix Lestrange, murderer, torturer and loyal Death Eater."
"Good Lord! Have you called the Ministry?"
"We had a Ministry-alerting system installed last week," answered George. He was as white as a sheet, and clearly very shaken. "She won't be able to Apparate or harm us from under there."
Fleur looked at her curiously. "What waz ze doin' 'ere zough? Ze didn't 'urt eezer of you did ze?" she asked, turning to face the twins.
"No, ze, I mean she, didn't," answered Fred, grinning slightly.
At that moment Kingsley Shacklebolt flung open the door, and rushed in, followed by other Ministry officials. He pointed his wand round the room, "Nobody move until I say so!" Then he saw Bellatrix and lowered his wand. "Good grief. Fred, George, what on earth's going on here?"
"She just walked in," murmured George. "We...I..."
Kingsley nodded at him seriously, "You're lucky you caught her in that net, otherwise I doubt you'd still be standing there! Oh, hello Bill and, Miss Delacour, isn't it?
Bill glanced at him. "Kingsley, nice to see you, though I would have preferred it to be under different circumstances."
"Yez, eet zertainly iz. And pleaze call me Fleur," she extended a well- manicured hand out to him. He took it with the same faint smile that every man seemed to wear after coming into contact with her.
Bill coughed subtly, eyes dancing, and Kingsley quickly straightened up.
"I don't know what Fudge is going to say about this, I'd like to see him try and explain this one away," he remarked to Bill, still slightly flushed, and then he turned to the twins. "Don't worry about this, you two, we'll get it all sorted out."
They nodded.
"Oh, by the way," he lowered his voice so that the other Ministry officials behind him couldn't hear, "Have you got anymore of those Extendable Ears? They're very good for keeping an eye, or should I say an ear, on Fudge."
George drew himself up to his full height, which was all of five foot six, "We'd be hnoured to help!"
A 100% discount okay, Kingsley?" asked Fred.
"It's been nice doing business with you boys!"
Bill looked from the Ministry official to his two brothers and back again. He began to laugh...