Christina remained within the confines of the Burrow's garden over the next few weeks. She spent most of her days playing two-a-side Quidditch in the Weasleys' orchard (she and Harry against Ron and Ginny; Ginny was good, so they were reasonably well matched) and her evenings were filled with Fred Weasley and romantic nights away from the others. It would have been a happy, peaceful holiday had it not been for the stories of disappearances, odd accidents, even of deaths now appearing almost daily in the Prophet. Sometimes Bill and Mr. Weasley brought home news before it even reached the paper. To Mrs. Weasley's displeasure, Harry's twenty-second birthday celebrations were marred by grisly tidings brought to the party by Remus Lupin, who was looking gaunt and grim, his brown hair streaked liberally with gray, his clothes more ragged and patched than ever.

"There have been another couple of dementor attacks," he announced, as Mrs. Weasley passed him a large slice of birthday cake. "And they've found Igor Karkaroff's body in a shack up north. The Dark Mark had been set over it — well, frankly, I'm surprised he stayed alive for even a year after deserting the Death Eaters; Sirius's brother, Regulus, only managed a few days as far as I can remember."

"Yes, well," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning, "perhaps we should talk about something diff —"

"Did you hear about Florean Fortescue, Remus?" asked Bill, who was being plied with wine by Fleur.

"The man who ran —"

"— the ice-cream place in Diagon Alley?" Harry interrupted. "He used to give me free ice creams. What's happened to him?"

"Dragged off, by the look of his place."

"Why?" asked Ron, while Mrs. Weasley pointedly glared at Bill.

"Who knows? He must've upset them somehow. He was a good man, Florean."

"Talking of Diagon Alley," said Mr. Weasley, "looks like Ollivander's gone too."

"The wandmaker?" said Ginny, looking startled.

"That's the one. Shop's empty. No sign of a struggle. No one knows whether he left voluntarily or was kidnapped."

"But wands — what'll people do for wands?"

"They'll make do with other makers," said Lupin. "But Ollivander was the best, and if the other side have got him it's not so good for us."

The day after this rather gloomy birthday tea, their letters and booklists arrived from Hogwarts. Harry's included a surprise: He had been made Quidditch Captain.

"That gives you equal status with prefects!" cried Hermione happily. "You can use our special bathroom now and everything!"

"Wow, I remember when Charlie wore one of these," said Ron, examining the badge with glee. "Harry, this is so cool, you're my Captain — if you let me back on the team, I suppose, ha ha. . . ."

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," sighed Mrs. Weasley, looking down Ron's booklist. "We'll go on Saturday as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."

"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?" sniggered Ron.

"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they?" said Mrs. Weasley, firing up at once. "If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind and I'll get your things myself —"

"No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George's shop!" said Ron hastily.

"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're too immature to come with us!" said Mrs. Weasley angrily, snatching up her clock, all nine hands of which were still pointing at "mortal peril," and balancing it on top of a pile of just-laundered towels. "And that goes for returning to Hogwarts as well!" Ron turned to stare incredulously at Harry as his mother hoisted the laundry basket and the teetering clock into her arms and stormed out of the room. "Blimey . . . you can't even make a joke round here anymore. . . ."

But Ron was careful not to be flippant about Voldemort over the next few days. Saturday dawned and Christina awoke to Fred getting dressed quickly as he always did and she was excited to finally get to see him at work.

"Did I wake you?" Fred said suddenly, buttoning up his shirt and smiling at Christina in bed.

"Button your shirt a little louder why don't you." she joked. She watched Fred rummage through several lavish robes before settling on a magenta pair.

"Gotta look tip-top today, showing my fiancé off at work today." Fred said with a wink, sitting down on the bed to put on his shoes.

"Oh yeah? Do you think she'll like it?" Christina said, snaking her arms around his torso.

"Oh yeah. And if she doesn't? Divorce."

"Yeah, I'd do the same. Bitches be cray." Fred barked out a laugh. "Bitches be cray" he joked in agreement. He finished lacing his shoes and then laid on the bed next to Christina kissing her.

"I'm so excited to see you at the shop today." Christina said in between kisses.

"Make sure you don't tell my fiancé we've been hooking up, okay?" he laughed and Christina playfully hit him. "I gotta go, but I'll see you soon!" said Fred. Christina pulled him in for another kiss. "Love you, jerk."

"Love you too."

Fred apparated to work and Christina went down for breakfast. Bill, who would be staying at home with Fleur (much to Christina, Hermione and Ginny's pleasure), passed a full money bag across the table to Harry, and plopped another one down in front of Christina.

"Where's mine?" demanded Ron at once, his eyes wide.

"That's already Harry's, idiot," said Bill. "I got it out of your vault for you two, because it's taking about five hours for the public to get to their gold at the moment, the goblins have tightened security so much. Two days ago Arkie Philpott had a Probity Probe stuck up his . . . Well, trust me, this way's easier."

"Thanks, Bill," said Harry, pocketing his gold.

"Yeah, thanks!" agreed Christina.

" 'E is always so thoughtful," purred Fleur adoringly, stroking Bill's nose. Ginny mimed vomiting into her cereal behind Fleur. Christina choked over her cornflakes, and Ron thumped her on the back.

It was an overcast, murky day. One of the special Ministry of Magic cars, in which Christina had ridden once before, was awaiting them in the front yard when they emerged from the house, pulling on their cloaks.

"It's good Dad can get us these again," said Ron appreciatively, stretching luxuriously as the car moved smoothly away from the Burrow, Bill and Fleur waving from the kitchen window. She, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were all sitting in roomy comfort in the wide backseat.

"Don't get used to it, it's only because of Harry and Christina," said Mr. Weasley over his shoulder. He and Mrs. Weasley were in front with the Ministry driver; the front passenger seat had obligingly stretched into what resembled a two-seater sofa. "They've been given top-grade security status. And we'll be joining up with additional security at the Leaky Cauldron too." Christina said nothing; she was ambivalent. While Dumbledore did give her permission to use her powers in public she still refrained from using them outside the sphere of Fred, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Even using them around Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Christina knew it made them slightly uncomfortable.

"Here you are, then," said the driver, a surprisingly short while later, speaking for the first time as he slowed in Charing Cross Road and stopped outside the Leaky Cauldron. "I'm to wait for you, any idea how long you'll be?"

"A couple of hours, I expect," said Mr. Weasley. "Ah, good, he's here!" Christina imitated Mr. Weasley and peered through the window. There were no Aurors waiting outside the inn, but instead the gigantic, black-bearded form of Rubeus Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper, wearing a long beaverskin coat, beaming at the sight of Christina's face and oblivious to the startled stares of passing Muggles.

"Harry!" he boomed, sweeping Harry into a bone-crushing hug the moment Harry had stepped out of the car. "Buckbeak — Witherwings, I mean — yeh should see him, Harry, he's so happy ter be back in the open air —"

"Glad he's pleased," said Harry, grinning as he massaged his ribs.

"We didn't know 'security' meant you!" said Christina hugging Hagrid as well.

"I know, jus' like old times, innit? See, the Ministry wanted ter send a bunch o' Aurors, but Dumbledore said I'd do," said Hagrid proudly, throwing out his chest and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. "Let's get goin' then — after yeh, Molly, Arthur —"

The Leaky Cauldron was, for the first time in Christina's memory, completely empty. Only Tom the landlord, wizened and toothless, remained of the old crowd. He looked up hopefully as they entered, but before he could speak, Hagrid said importantly, "Jus' passin' through today, Tom, sure yeh understand, Hogwarts business, yeh know." Tom nodded gloomily and returned to wiping glasses; Christina, Harry, Hermione, Hagrid, and the Weasleys walked through the bar and out into the chilly little courtyard at the back where the dustbins stood. Hagrid raised his pink umbrella and rapped a certain brick in the wall, which opened at once to form an archway onto a winding cobbled street. They stepped through the entrance and paused, looking around. Diagon Alley had changed.

The colorful, glittering window displays of spellbooks, potion ingredients, and cauldrons were lost to view, hidden behind the large Ministry of Magic posters that had been pasted over them. Most of these somber purple posters carried blown-up versions of the security advice on the Ministry pamphlets that had been sent out over the summer, but others bore moving black-and-white photographs of Death Eaters known to be on the loose.

Bellatrix Lestrange was sneering from the front of the nearest apothecary. A few windows were boarded up, including those of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. On the other hand, a number of shabby-looking stalls had sprung up along the street. The nearest one, which had been erected outside Flourish and Blotts, under a striped, stained awning, had a cardboard sign pinned to its front:

AMULETS

Effective Against Werewolves, Dementors, and Inferi

A seedy-looking little wizard was rattling armfuls of silver symbols on chains at passersby.

"One for your little girl, madam?" he called at Mrs. Weasley as they passed, leering at Ginny. "Protect her pretty neck?"

"If I were on duty . . ." said Mr. Weasley, glaring angrily at the amulet seller.

"Yes, but don't go arresting anyone now, dear, we're in a hurry," said Mrs. Weasley, nervously consulting a list. "I think we'd better do Madam Malkin's first, Hermione wants new dress robes, and Ron's showing much too much ankle in his school robes, and you must need new ones too, Harry, you've grown so much — come on, everyone —"

"Molly, it doesn't make sense for all of us to go to Madam Malkin's," said Mr. Weasley. "Why don't those four go with Hagrid, and we can go to Flourish and Blotts and get everyone's schoolbooks?"

"I don't know," said Mrs. Weasley anxiously, clearly torn between a desire to finish the shopping quickly and the wish to stick together in a pack. "Hagrid, do you think — ?"

"Don' fret, they'll be fine with me, Molly," said Hagrid soothingly, waving an airy hand the size of a dustbin lid. Mrs. Weasley did not look entirely convinced, but allowed the separation, scurrying off toward Flourish and Blotts with her husband and Ginny while Christina, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid set off for Madam Malkin's. Christina noticed that many of the people who passed them had the same harried, anxious look as Mrs. Weasley, and that nobody was stopping to talk anymore; the shoppers stayed together in their own tightly knit groups, moving intently about their business. Nobody seemed to be shopping alone.

"Migh' be a bit of a squeeze in there with all of us," said Hagrid, stopping outside Madam Malkin's and bending down to peer through the window. "I'll stand guard outside, all right?" So Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the little shop together. It appeared, at first glance, to be empty, but no sooner had the door swung shut behind them than they heard a familiar voice issuing from behind a rack of dress robes in spangled green and blue.

". . . not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone." There was a clucking noise and a voice Christina recognized as that of Madam Malkin, the owner, said, "Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child —"

"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!" A young man with a pale, pointed face and white-blond hair appeared from behind the rack, wearing a handsome set of dark green robes that glittered with pins around the hem and the edges of the sleeves. He strode to the mirror and examined himself; it was a few moments before he noticed Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione reflected over his shoulder. His light gray eyes narrowed.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in," said Draco Malfoy.

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" said Madam Malkin, scurrying out from behind the clothes rack holding a tape measure and a wand.

"And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" she added hastily, for a glance toward the door had shown her Harry and Ron both standing there with their wands out and pointing at Malfoy. Christina was just smirking while Hermione, who was standing slightly behind them, whispered, "No, don't, honestly, it's not worth it. . . ."

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," sneered Malfoy. "Heaven knows what the freak will do."

"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support.

"Madam — please —" Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack.

"Put those away," she said coldly to Harry and Ron. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" said Christina, taking a step forward and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that, for all its pallor, still resembled her sister's. Christina was as tall as she was now. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you? Go ahead, cant be that much harder than Voldemort—" Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart.

"Really, you shouldn't accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!" But Harry did not lower his wand and Christina did not back off. Narcissa Malfoy smiled unpleasantly.

"I see that being Dumbledore's favorite has given you a false sense of security, Christina Bataskill. But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you." Christina looked mockingly all around the shop.

"Wow . . . look at that . . . he's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your arse of a husband!" Malfoy made an angry movement toward Christina, but stumbled over a rock wire in the way of his foot cleverly placed by Christina. Ron laughed loudly.

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Babyskill!" Malfoy snarled.

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder.

"I expect Bataskill will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius." This hit a nerve and Christina took that trip wire and now aimed it directly at the Malfoy's. Narcissa quivered in fear. Christina smirked.

"You don't even know what I can do." Christina said menacingly.

"Christina, no!" moaned Hermione, grabbing her arm and attempting to push it down by her side.

"Think. . . . You mustn't. . . . You'll be in such trouble. . . ." Christina let the wire drop to the floor and it crumbled. Madam Malkin dithered for a moment on the spot, then seemed to decide to act as though nothing was happening in the hope that it wouldn't. She bent toward Malfoy, who was still glaring at Christina.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just —"

"Ouch!" bellowed Malfoy, slapping her hand away. "Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don't think I want these anymore —" He pulled the robes over his head and threw them onto the floor at Madam Malkin's feet.

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Hermione, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here. . . . We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's." And with that, the pair of them strode out of the shop, Malfoy taking care to bang as hard as he could into Ron on the way out.

"Well, really!" said Madam Malkin, snatching up the fallen robes and moving the tip of her wand over them like a vacuum cleaner, so that it removed all the dust. She was distracted all through the fitting of Ron's and Harry's new robes, tried to sell Christina and Hermione wizard's dress robes instead of witch's, and when she finally bowed them out of the shop it was with an air of being glad to see the back of them.

"Got ev'rything?" asked Hagrid brightly when they reappeared at his side.

"Just about," said Harry. "Did you see the Malfoys?"

"Yeah," said Hagrid, unconcerned. "Bu' they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o' Diagon Alley, Harry. Don' worry abou' them." Christina, Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged looks, but before they could disabuse Hagrid of this comfortable notion, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny appeared, all clutching heavy packages of books.

"Everyone all right?" said Mrs. Weasley. "Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the Apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's — stick close, now. . . ." Since neither Harry nor Ron received Outstandings on their OWLs, only Christina and Hermione purchased ingredients at the Apothecary, but both, including Christina, bought large boxes of owl nuts for Hedwig and Pigwidgeon at Eeylops Owl Emporium. Then, with Mrs. Weasley checking her watch every minute or so, they headed farther along the street in search of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, the joke shop run by Fred and George.

"We really haven't got too long," Mrs. Weasley said. "So we'll just have a quick look around and then back to the car. We must be close, that's number ninety-two . . . ninety-four . . ."

"Whoa," said Ron, stopping in his tracks. Set against the dull, poster-muffled shop fronts around them, Fred and George's windows hit the eye like a firework display. Casual passersby were looking back over their shoulders at the windows, and a few rather stunned-looking people had actually come to a halt, transfixed. The left-hand window was dazzlingly full of an assortment of goods that revolved, popped, flashed, bounced, and shrieked; Christina's eyes began to water just looking at it. The righthand window was covered with a gigantic poster, purple like those of the Ministry, but emblazoned with flashing yellow letters: WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO? YOU SHOULD BE WORRYING ABOUT U-NO-POO — THE CONSTIPATION SENSATION THAT'S GRIPPING THE NATION! Christina laughed loudly and ran inside, ready to finally see Fred.

It was packed with customers; Christina could not get near the shelves. She stared around, looking up at the boxes piled to the ceiling: Here were the Skiving Snackboxes that the twins had perfected during their last, unfinished year at Hogwarts; Christina noticed that the Nosebleed Nougat was most popular, with only one battered box left on the shelf. There were bins full of trick wands, the cheapest merely turning into rubber chickens or pairs of briefs when waved, the most expensive beating the unwary user around the head and neck, and boxes of quills, which came in Self-Inking, Spell-Checking, and Smart-Answer varieties. A space cleared in the crowd, and Christina pushed her way toward the counter, where a gaggle of delighted fifteen-year-olds was watching a tiny little wooden man slowly ascending the steps to a real set of gallows, both perched on a box that read: reusable hangman — spell it or he'll swing!

" 'Patented Daydream Charms . . .' " Hermione had managed to squeeze through to a large display near the counter and was reading the information on the back of a box bearing a highly colored picture of a handsome youth and a swooning girl who were standing on the deck of a pirate ship.

" 'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream, easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-twenty-one.' You know," said Hermione, looking up at Christina, "that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Hermione," said a voice behind them, "you can have one for free." A beaming Fred stood before them, wearing a set of magenta robes that clashed magnificently with his flaming hair.

"Fred!" Christina jumped and wrapped her legs around his torso as she kissed every inch of his face. "This place is amazing!" She said between kisses.

"Come on, Christina, I'll give you a tour." Christina left Hermione and followed Fred toward the back of the shop, where she saw a stand of card and rope tricks.

"Muggle magic tricks!" said Fred happily, pointing them out. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties. . . . Oh, here's George. . . ."

"George!" Christina gave him a great big hug, she hadn't seen him since he left with Fed over a month ago.

"Giving her the tour? Come through the back, Christina, that's where we're making the real money — pocket anything, you, and you'll pay in more than Galleons!" he added warningly to a small boy who hastily whipped his hand out of the tub labeled edible dark marks — they'll make anyone sick! George pushed back a curtain beside the Muggle tricks and Christina saw a darker, less crowded room. The packaging on the products lining these shelves was more subdued.

"We've just developed this more serious line," said Fred. "Funny how it happened . . ."

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," said George. " 'Course, they didn't have you teaching them, Christina."

"That's right. . . . Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still getting massive orders!"

"So we've expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves . . ."

". . . I mean, they wouldn't help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes . . ."

"And then we thought we'd get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it's such a money spinner," continued George enthusiastically.

"Oh and look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru now. You used this in the— "

"Tri-Wizard cup, yeah!" said Christina holding the familiar powder.

"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look," said Fred, pointing at a number of weird-looking black horn-type objects that were indeed attempting to scurry out of sight. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one.

"Ha! Love it," said Christina, impressed.

"Here," said George, catching a couple and throwing them to Christina. A young witch with short blonde hair poked her head around the curtain; Christina saw that she too was wearing magenta staff robes.

"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley," she said. Christina found it very odd to hear Fred and George called "Mr. Weasley," but they took it in their stride.

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," said George promptly.

"Verity?" Christina said jealously.

"Christina, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge." Said George before leaving.

"I can't do that!" said Christina, who had already pulled out her money bag to pay for the Decoy Detonators.

"You don't pay here," said Fred firmly, waving away Christina's gold.

"But —"

"You gave us our start-up loan, we haven't forgotten," said George sternly. "Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask." George swept off through the curtain to help with the customers, and Fred led Christina back into the main part of the shop to find Hermione and Ginny still poring over the Patented Daydream Charms.

"Haven't you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?" asked Fred. "Follow me, ladies. . . ." Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.

"There you go," said Fred proudly. "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere." Ginny raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Do they work?" she asked.

"Certainly they work, look how I got this one." Fred wrapped an arm around Christina kissing the side of her head. Christina pretended to shake her head out of confusion, "Where am I?" she turned to Fred and mock-screamed. They all laughed.

"Well at least for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question —"

"— and the attractiveness of the girl," said George, reappearing suddenly at their side. "But we're not selling them to our sister," he added, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've —"

"Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie," said Ginny calmly, leaning forward to take a small pink pot off the shelf. "What's this?"

"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher," said Fred. "Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"

"Yes, I am," said Ginny. "And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?" She was pointing at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.

"Pygmy Puffs," said George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"

"I dumped him, he was a bad loser," said Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. "They're really cute!"

"They're fairly cuddly, yes," conceded Fred. "But you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?" Ginny turned to look at him, her hands on her hips. There was such a Mrs. Weasley-ish glare on her face that Christina was surprised Fred didn't recoil.

"It's none of your business. And I'll thank you," she added angrily to Ron, who had just appeared at George's elbow, laden with merchandise, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"

"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron's arms. "Cough up."

"I'm your brother!"

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"

"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves." Christina giggled. Ron dropped several boxes, swore, and made a rude hand gesture at Fred that was unfortunately spotted by Mrs. Weasley, who had chosen that moment to appear.

"If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together," she said sharply.

"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" said Ginny at once.

"A what?" said Mrs. Weasley warily.

"Look, they're so sweet. . . ." Mrs. Weasley moved aside to look at the Pygmy Puffs, and Christina grabbed Fred by the wrist and took him back to the back room without a word.

"Ever had this fantasy?" Christina said slyly as she magicked several boxes off a long table and perched herself there. Fred stood between her legs playing with her hair.

"Only ever since we got the shop." He said moving in closer, checking behind him every few seconds.

"Not with Verity though, right?" Christina asked half-serious. Fred chuckled, "Who?" He kissed her deeply and pushed her back onto the table, now grabbing at her waist and hips. She laid back on the table and Fred jumped on top of her, the table wobbled and Christina let the concrete from the floor wrap itself around the table legs for stability. They furiously pashed, tongues intertwined together, hands roaming and grabbing when the door burst open and in came George Weasley. Fred and Christina looked over, stunned silent to George rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I guessed as much" and closed the door, leaving them alone again.

"Great brother." Christina mused, smirking.

Knowing how short their time was together and how very close Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were to them, they quickly 'christened' the back room and reentered the chaos inside the front of the shop.

"Where on earth could they possibly be!" Christina heard Mrs. Weasley say to a very troubled looking Hagrid. Christina grimaced to Fred, she knew their absence would be noticed . . . she sighed and walked over to Mrs. Weasley, ready for the lecture.

"There you are! Unbelievable, we've been looking for you for fifteen minutes! And where are the others?" Christina, at first apologetic, looked to Mrs. Weasley confused.

"They're not around?" she asked.

"I've just been searching for the past—RONALD WEASLEY!" Christina spotted Harry, Ron and Hermione looking quite windswept by the frontdoor of the shop looking as guilty as ever. Did they leave?

"Where 'av you lot bin?" Hagrid asked the trio.

"We've been in the backroom!" Ron retorted. Fred nearly choked on his breath, "You've been where exactly?"

"The backroom, Fred and George were showing us their stocks . . ." Harry said giving Christina a look that only said don't-ask.

Mrs. Weasley continued to accuse them but gave up realizing that they were indeed safe. Once she went away to go say goodbye to George Christina interrogating the trio.

"Where were you?!" she said trying to be quiet.

"Malfoy." Harry said resolutely.

"You followed him?"

"He's hiding something at Borgin and Bourkes . . . and mending something." Harry explained, he looked distracted but Christina was more upset that she wasn't invited for the journey.

"I could've went in the shop, been invisible!"

"Oh we were, Harry's got his cloak." Ron said watching his mum from the corner of his eye.

"I keep it with me at all times now, just in case." Said Harry.

"Good idea, Dumbledore gave me permission to use my powers in public for protection too." Said Christina, but it was Hermione whose mouth dropped.

"Professor Dumbledore said that? Well . . . I suppose he wants you to be safe . . ." it seemed Hermione had a much longer speech prepared, however it was cut short when Mrs. Weasley returned, signifying the end of their journey to Diagon Alley.

"I've never had an office quickie before" Fred whispered in Christina's ear as she hugged him goodbye.

"Well you can have a home quickie too if you get back before midnight" she teased back. He mock fanned himself and blew her a kiss.

"Honestly you two." Ginny said, mime-barfing as they left the shop and headed back to the car.