Chapter Nine - Longing For Home

It was bad before, thought Gabrielle, but this was worse. The disappointment over the way she looked in the dress was gone. All she felt now was a desperate desire to escape and hide or wear all her clothes at once. Standing in front of the mirror with three women discussing one's deficiencies, all the while poking and mashing about what little one has, will do that. Gabrielle hated the phrase 'perhaps like this' because it meant that whoever said it was about to manhandle her. And, how could she complain? She did not want to look like sticks wrapped in gold leaf. Mrs. Weasley, Madame Malkin, and Fleur all agreed that her lack of bust needed padding. But there had been considerable debate as to how much to add and how to squeeze what was there. Fleur's idea was the most painful, Mrs. Weasley's idea was the least effective, and Madame Malkin's idea was the most embarrassing. Each was demonstrated several times. The size and shape of her rump had been discussed for quite a while also, and its malleability. Fortunately, Madame Malkin had no prosthetics in stock. "Not many witches want more of that these days," explained Madame Malkin. An additional draping charm would be the fix. Nothing could be done about her legs though, if Gabrielle and Ginny were to match.

The fitting had taken quite a while, and when they returned to the front of the shop Gabrielle was ready to go back to the Burrow. Hermione and Tonks were again examining the blue dress Hermione had looked at before. Unbelievably, Ginny appeared to be asleep again.

"You wore blue at ze Tri-Wizard ball, no?" recalled Fleur. "Zen you can not wear eet again."

"What? Why ever not? That was more than a year and a half ago," said Hermione.

"Gowns must not repeat. You will look nice in pur-pel. Ah, 'ere is one," said Fleur pulling out a sleek silk dress.

Hermione looked put-out, but held the dress up to herself. "Er, is this all there is? Where is the back?"

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Eet eez a stylish dress for the zee young woman. Eet eez ze frame for ze picture zat eez you, not ze blanket. Go, put it on."

"No, that's not necessary. I didn't bring enough - oh my!" exclaimed Hermione looking at the tag. "I certainly didn't bring enough!"

"There could be a discount. It wouldn't hurt to try it on," wheedled Madame Malkin. "A lovely young witch like yourself deserves something lovely."

"Go ahead, dear. We have a little extra time," said Mrs. Weasley. Hermione looked at the dress dubiously, but allowed herself to be pushed towards the dressing rooms by Fleur and Tonks.

Gabrielle thought, extra time? If there is extra time, perhaps Ginny could take me to George and Fred's shop. Gabrielle went over and sat next to Ginny, and started nudging the older girl with her elbow when Mrs. Weasley wasn't looking. As bony as she was she was sure that Ginny would feel it. Madame Malkin and Mrs. Weasley moved over to the corner by the window to chat. Gabrielle attacked again.

"Mm... 'Agnok the... 'gly..." mumbled Ginny. Gabrielle wondered at how no one else thought Ginny's behavior unusual.

"Hermione," called Tonks, "are you ready yet?"

"I'm not coming out," replied Hermione.

"Oh come on, ducks. It's only us girls."

"No, that's all right. There's a mirror back here and everything."

"Shall we come and get you?"

"No! No need for that. I'll be out in a moment."

"We want to see the dress on you. Come out, or else," threatened Tonks.

"Or else what? Anyway, I don't like this dress so it doesn't matter!"

"Accio Hermione's denims!" cried Tonks with a laugh. There was a squeal of protest from Hermione as the item of clothing sailed to the auror.

"Accio 'Ermione's blouse!" added Fleur.

"Oh very funny. Ha ha," complained Hermione.

"Perhaps now you will keep your 'orrid cat from being sick in my shoes?" asked Fleur.

"Uh oh. Another wand in the back pocket," noted Tonks holding up Hermione's wand. "Moody will be so disappointed."

"You two are being real cows. I don't want to come out," said Hermione unhappily. Gabrielle continued to elbow Ginny, but was paying more attention to the scene unfolding in front of her.

"I can see I'll have to get you. What was that spell Harry was on about - levicorpus?" teased Tonks.

"Don't you dare!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I'm coming in now," announced Tonks. She didn't move, but stomped her feet on the floor.

"Do you mind, Gabrielle?" yawned Ginny. "You're hurting me."

"All right! All right!" wailed Hermione. She appeared at the door to the back. "There, you've seen me." Gabrielle's eyes widened - she could see why Hermione hesitated. It was barely a dress. The loose folds of rich fabric that made up the neckline dipped so low that the bra Hermione still wore cut across it several inches from the bottom of the opening. The dress was very short, also.

"Hermione!" breathed Ginny in surprise. Tonks whistled.

Fleur went over to her. "Ze color is perhaps too bright, and you will need prop-air shoes. Eet eez a good fit, zough. Turn around," ordered Fleur, pulling on Hermione's shoulder.

"Good fit? My bum is sticking out!" protested Hermione as she turned. Gabrielle saw that the dress was backless, bordering on bottomless, and Hermione's underwear was plainly visible.

"Of course, you will not wear zis or zis," noted Fleur, pulling on the elastic on Hermione's undergarments and letting them snap back. "Eez eet not dramatic?"

"It's daring, er, very daring, I should think," said Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione sprang away from Fleur. "It's drafty is what it is. I'm not going anywhere starkers under something smaller than a bath towel. I admit the color is smashing, but I'm not comfortable in it. At all."

"You will turn many heads," suggested Fleur.

"I don't want to if I have to dress like a French tart to do so," snapped Hermione. She clamped a hand over her mouth before adding a sheepish, "Sorry."

Fleur looked at her haughtily. "(This from someone with no tan lines.)" Gabrielle saw Hermione gasp at that. Fleur stepped to a rack and selected another dress with barely a look. "Try zis, if you wish to blend."

Hermione took the frock pushed into her hands. Gabrielle could see it easily used twice the amount of fabric as the first. "Can't I have my clothes? I already said I can't buy anything."

"That's all right, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "You can put it on my tab if you find something you like."

"Er, about running tabs, er, I'm, uh, very sorry, but, er, there's sort of a new, er, policy," said Madame Malkin uneasily.

Mrs. Weasley's expression hardened and she glared at the squat witch, "The Weasleys have always made good on their tabs. We have always shopped here. In the past."

Madame Malkin looked about to cry. "Oh Molly. It's just that they come and look at the receipts. And if there isn't enough... the shop, my family..." Mrs. Weasley's glare was replaced by concern and she pulled the stricken witch into an embrace. Madame Malkin couldn't contain a sob. "After... after Florean... I don't know what to do," moaned Madame Malkin.

"Extortion. That's what it is," said Hermione quietly.

"The Ministry's been useless, too," complained Madame Malkin. She looked up at Mrs. Weasley. "Sorry, Molly."

"No apologies needed Cordelia. We all know not all parts of the Ministry are run the same," soothed Mrs. Weasley. She turned to Hermione, "Go try it on, dear. It's getting late."

Gabrielle thought, now it is getting late? The drama between Hermione and Fleur had made Gabrielle almost forget about wanting to see the joke shop. She leaned over to Ginny, "Ask you mozzer if you can show me ze Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. Please?"

Ginny looked at Gabrielle, "Why can't you ask?"

Why can't I, wondered Gabrielle. She hadn't really considered it. Having Ginny ask just seemed like the best idea. If she had to admit it, she felt that she would be ridiculed if she asked for herself, because of the incident in the morning. No, thought Gabrielle, I will be thought of as a French tart if I ask. "I can not ask, not, eh, today. Please Ginny?" replied Gabrielle.

"Oh, all right. I can't say no after all your help," smiled Ginny. Louder, she asked, "Mum? Can I take Gabrielle down to the twins'?"

"What? No. We need to stay together," replied Mrs. Weasley. Gabrielle sighed.

"It isn't that far," argued Ginny. "It's the middle of the day, and we wouldn't stay long."

"We stay together. The Ministry driver will expect us soon anyway. You especially need to stay close - Beebee doesn't even have a wand," asserted Tonks.

Ginny's eyes glinted with anger and the tips of her ears reddened. Gabrielle was amazed that Ginny said nothing else, but grabbed a magazine and held it in front of her face. It was upside-down, Gabrielle noticed, but since Ginny was just glowering at the page it probably didn't matter.

"What is zis Beebee?" asked Fleur.

"The twins call her that," replied Tonks with a shrug.

"Fred calls me zat and I want you to stop too," said Gabrielle. Her challenging look was met by smirks from Fleur and Tonks. Gabrielle put up a magazine.

v - v - v - v - v

Hermione was less reticent about coming out from the dressing area. It was obvious to Gabrielle that Hermione was pleased with the way the more modest gown looked, and it was nice so Gabrielle joined in the choir of praise. Fleur was less impressed, "Eet eez dull. Eet does fit you." Hermione's eyes narrowed at that, but she let it pass.

"It comes with the latest Stay-Clean charm and an anti-wrinkle charm. So... you'll take it then?" asked Madame Malkin. She swallowed and added, "On the Weasley tab?"

"I couldn't possibly impose..." started Hermione.

"It's quite all right, dear. Consider it a gift," smiled Mrs. Weasley. She waved off Hermione's protests. "And put the last of the bride's dress on my tab too, and the draping charm."

"Molly! Zere is no need for zat! Papa has sent ze galleons," protested Fleur.

"Mum, what are you doing?" asked a shocked Ginny.

"You and Bill have just bought a house. I'm sure it'll need furnishings," said Mrs. Weasley to Fleur. She stepped over to Madame Malkin. "Now then, what is the tab up to? Oh - my goodness, that is quite a lot. I think I'd better clear it before school season."

Madame Malkin was at a loss for words, "Uh... Well.."

"Do you have a vault at Gringotts I could transfer in to?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"Er, B-342. Molly, please, I know times are lean right now. You don't have to prove anything," said Madame Malkin quietly.

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Weasley. Half to herself she said, "I do hope this works though." She cleared her throat and called, "Dobby."

There was a quiet pop, and a house-elf appeared. Gabrielle had seen house-elves before, but this one was different. Firstly, it seemed quite pleased to have arrived into a room filled with witches. The ones she had seen at the other manor houses back home were very timid and withdrawn. Secondly, this house-elf was clearly wearing clothes - from the mismatched socks on its feet to its baggy trousers and shirt. The creature even had two misshapen, knitted hats on. Gabrielle had no idea that the Weasleys had a house-elf. Mrs. Weasley did all the cooking and most of the cleaning, and doled out what she didn't do as chores. Ginny seemed unaware as well, since her mouth hung agape.

"Missuz Wheazy! How may Dobby help you?" asked the house-elf, who then bowed with a great flourish. He dipped his head so low that it could be seen that he had tied the hats to his ears to prevent them from falling off. He then bowed to each of them in turn. Gabrielle didn't expect that and gave a flustered curtsy in return.

"Ah. Er, would you be so kind, Dobby dear, as to take my key to Gringotts and transfer, uh, twenty-seven galleons to vault, er..." began Mrs. Weasley.

"B-342," informed Madame Malkin.

"Yes, to vault B-342. Please bring two galleons and twenty sickles back," requested Mrs. Weasley.

"Dobby is happy to help Harry Potter's Wheazys," replied Dobby, bouncing over on the tips of his toes to Mrs. Weasley to get the key. He disappeared with a pop.

"Mum! Where did you get the galleons from?" asked Ginny in surprise.

"You know your father works very hard, dear. Now hush," replied Mrs. Weasley. She was obviously avoiding Ginny's eyes.

"What? You said yourself the Ministry..." Ginny trailed off. She looked angry again. "Harry. It's from Harry, isn't it?"

"It's not my or your father's fault! We tried to talk him out of it, but, er, he can be very, um, persuasive." Mrs. Weasley had a faraway look in her eyes as she said this, and looked like she might tear up. This was confusing to Gabrielle, who always liked to receive galleons herself.

"I'll bet it's from the Black estate," said Tonks. "I read that the Wizengamot had cleared all the claims against it."

"Black," muttered Hermione, fingers in her hair. "I am so stupid. Sirius had a brother, didn't he? Regulus Black - Sirius said he was a Death Eater, tried to back out, and was killed. Tonks, do you remember Sirius' brother's middle name?" Hermione was fidgeting and wringing her hands.

"Not off the top of my head," said Tonks. "It was one of those names from astronomy the Black family favored."

"I need a library!" cried Hermione. She paced about anxiously. Gabrielle was wondering if she expected to find one in the shop. Hermione stopped suddenly, "Or a bookshop!" Tonks grabbed her arm before she got to the door.

"You might want to change. Or at least put shoes on," suggested the auror.

"Oh," said Hermione looking down at her feet. "Right." She gathered up her clothes from Fleur and Tonks and hurried to change.

A soft pop announced the return of Dobby. He held two leather pouches.

"Goodness that was fast," marvelled Mrs. Weasley.

Dobby gave her the pouches, then lifted the first of his two hats and fished out a small parchment. The elf handed that to Mrs. Weasley and noted, "We house-elves have our own door, and the goblins like us. They say we don't dither. What else can Dobby do for Harry Potter's Wheazys?"

Mrs. Weasley pushed a sickle into his knobby hand, "That's all for now, dear.'

Dobby looked at the sickle sadly, "Nothing else, Missuz Wheazy? Harry Potter told Dobby Missuz Wheazy had too much work to do?"

"Not at the moment, dear. Now run along and..."

"Sit and hope the students come back," finished Dobby. He slumped his shoulders and disappeared.

"That is Harry Potter's house-elf?" exclaimed Madame Malkin.

"No. That is Harry Potter's friend who is a house-elf. A free house-elf, if you can imagine it. Now, see this?" asked Mrs. Weasley showing the dress-maker the parchment with the silver seal.

"Yes. You transferred all but three galleons and two sickles into the vault. Why?"

"I would like a discount," said Mrs. Weasley as she tucked the parchment away.

"Oh, er, yes. I see. Ten percent is quite reasonable for such a long-time customer. I'll just note it..."

"No, no. I want a ninety percent discount, and I'll pay it right now," declared Mrs. Weasley.

Madame Malkin stared at the column of figures in confusion. "But, but... you've already transferred..."

"Oh! That is clever, Mum," said Ginny. "They only look at the receipts. They'll only see the ten percent listed there."

Madame Malkin's hand froze over the ledger. When she looked up she was teary-eyed. "Oh Molly. How can I ever thank you?"

Mrs. Weasley put her finger over her lips, "Say nothing about it to anyone."

v - v - v - v - v

This, thought Gabrielle sullenly, is the sort of casual injustice that defines her life. She had asked nicely to be allowed to go see the twins' shop. Well, she hadn't asked herself. She had gotten Ginny to ask. That wasn't the point, though. The reasonable request had been made, politely too. But no, she and Ginny were not allowed. Too little time, must stay together - don't be a silly little girl. That was what Fleur was probably thinking, anyway.

Yet here they were, poking around a bookshop because Hermione suddenly wanted to go. What happened to the Ministry driver? Hermione was taking a long time too. If Gabrielle had been allowed to go to the joke shop, she would have just looked around it a little and said hello to George. And Fred. She wouldn't have plopped herself down in an aisle to paw through the merchandise. Hermione, of course, was doing just that. All without a word of complaint from Tonks or Mrs. Weasley.

It didn't help, ranted Gabrielle internally, that her unbandaged hand had been nipped by a stupid book in a stupid cage. On top of that, she was sure she could smell muggle coffee when they had crossed the street, and she would have liked to know where that was coming from. The sudden desire for a book by the curse-throwing cat lady with no tan lines ruined any plans Gabrielle might have had.

Gabrielle would have thought Ginny would also be upset over the unfairness of the situation, but it turned out that Ginny thought that finding out the middle name of Sirius Black's brother was vital too. Gabrielle had read about Sirius Black in her preparation materials. She did not recall any mention of a brother. She had not read all the articles about Sirius and Harry, though. The idea of a crazed maniac coming after a schoolboy was too frightening, and gave her bad dreams. Besides, Gabrielle thought the topic was unlikely to come up between herself and Harry.

A flash of inspiration lit Gabrielle's brain. Sirius Black was back, disguised as his brother, and was after Harry again. Black had given himself away by using the wrong initial and they needed to double-check. Wait, thought Gabrielle, didn't Hermione say Sirius' brother was dead? Of course, Sirius was a desperate murderous lunatic, so maybe this made sense to his sick, twisted mind. Gabrielle suddenly wished she could sit near George. If he wasn't mad at her. It hadn't really been that unpleasant, had it?

v - v - v - v - v

Harry sat on the edge of the bed in the infirmary, shirt off, holding a wad of white cloth to the wound on his chest. He couldn't see why this hole in particular needed the cloth - his shirt had had blood on the front and the back, and both sides. Any one of the holes in him was still leaking blood. Madame Pomfrey had been adamant about the one on his chest, though. He hadn't argued. That would have delayed her treating Ron.

Madame Pomfrey passed by with some Blood Replenishment potions for Ron, and a plate of biscuits. Harry was now sure Ron was going to be okay. Ron had gone from softly groaning to loudly moaning; from there it had progressed to softly cursing. When he reached the loudly cursing stage Madame Pomfrey had threatened to call his mother if he didn't settle down. Just hearing the centaurs being called things he was sure Ron had learned from his cousin Dudley did a lot to give Harry a lift.

It had been such a relief to see Hagrid running up, thought Harry, when the car had slid to a stop next to the great doors of Hogwarts. Harry shuddered when he considered what would have happened if Hagrid had been off on a mission. It wasn't like those huge wrought iron rings could actually be used to knock on the castle's locked doors. Hagrid had recognized the arrows still jutting from Ron. Harry had recounted what had happened as best he could given that Hagrid was running through the halls with Harry under one arm and Ron under the other. When they reached the infirmary, Hagrid dropped Harry on one bed and placed Ron on another, wiped his great brow, and then set out to find Savage. Hagrid had waved off Harry's alarm saying that he would take Fang and Grawp, and they would be fine.

Thinking of Savage left Harry feeling cold. The whole situation had felt wrong and it had spun so far out of control. It was easy to blame Savage - he had been rude and had struck first. But the centaurs had come in force and set up an ambush. Bane's anger certainly hadn't helped calm things. The thing is, thought Harry, Magorian had been in control. Bane's shouting would've meant nothing if Bitters hadn't flung a curse at Magorian. There just seemed to be more to this than Harry was able to see. Now Savage was probably dead. Harry wondered if Bane and Magorian were dead as well. Harry found himself hoping they had survived. Although when he remembered that the two centaurs had shot arrows at his and Ron's backs his anger returned and he hoped they were at least feeling some pain.

Madame Pomfrey pulled back the curtains that surrounded Ron's bed. An extremely pale Ron gave Harry a thumbs-up, then let his arm flop to the bed. The medi-witch came over to Harry. "Now then Mr. Potter, let's see what is stuck in you." She took the cloth from Harry and looked at the bloodstains.

"Stuck in me?" asked Harry. He had seen what a yard of wood sticking into someone looked like. He was very lucky not to have that problem.

"There's a lump under that puncture. The centaurs sometimes use plant-based poisons when hunting - I thought that was why you weren't in pain. The poultice should have drawn it out," explained Madame Pomfrey. She closed the wounds on Harry's shoulder, back, and side with her wand and a sticky yellow sludge.

"Er, it still doesn't hurt much," noted Harry with some alarm. He had only been really dabbing the chest wound, not pressing hard on it.

"Hmmm. Well it didn't color the cloth. Which it should have done for most of the plant poisons."

"Most?!" Harry had felt cold before. Maybe, thought Harry, that was his kidney or liver or something shutting down.

"All the ones to be found in the Forbidden Forest, of course," said Madame Pomfrey. Harry relaxed at that. "Unless they've started using acromantula poison..."

"That isn't really funny, you know," said Harry sourly.

"Well hold still then. This might sting a bit," warned Madame Pomfrey. She tapped her wand on the injury, and to Harry it felt like she had used a red-hot poker. He hissed in pain and jerked back.

"Merlin's balls!" he gasped.

"I thought you said it didn't hurt. Anyway the, um... the button is out." She held up two pieces of a blood covered disc. "Let me close that up."

Harry stared at the pieces lying on the sheet. Bane's arrow hadn't killed him because of a mismatched button on a hand-me-down shirt from Dudley? He was lucky to be alive, and that luck had to have come from Ginny. Ginny had said what they did last night would protect him in battle, and it had. He had wanted to break up, and she waited for him to come to his senses. He wanted her to stay hidden and safe, and she had essentially threatened him to accept her help in return. Now that help had saved his life. I am a complete prat, thought Harry. That was followed by another thought: I wonder if she'll do it again.

v - v - v - v - v

"Sorry about that," said Hermione as they finally left Flourish & Blotts. "I had no idea how completely the history was expunged after the first time - He - fell. Some of the histories make it sound like Voldemort was some deadly strain of flu. Er, sorry," she added at the winces the name caused.

"Did you find what you were looking for, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "You might've purchased something in there, just to help out."

Hermione stopped short. "I should have, shouldn't I? I could have done the same trick with the discount." She turned around.

"No!" blurted Gabrielle. Everyone turned to look at her. "Eh... I..."

"Someone's done with book-browsing," laughed Tonks.

"Zat was rude, Beebee. You should have said: please, we 'ave indulged you more zan enough for one day," said Fleur.

Gabrielle crossed her arms and glared at Fleur. How dare she use that stupid nickname. "(Don't call me that, or... or I will call you Flim!)"

"Phlegm," whispered Ginny.

"Phlegm," repeated Gabrielle. She would find out what that meant later.

"Er, perhaps another day," suggested Mrs. Weasley. "I think we're all feeling a little tired, and a spot of tea would be nice."

v - v - v - v - v

They returned to the leaky Cauldron in various degrees of snit. Gabrielle was the most annoyed, having had her fill of both Fleur and Hermione. She was even a little upset with Ginny for not arguing for the twins' shop more, and for laughing when she asked about Sirius Black's plot. How was she to know that a crazed murderer was really Harry's god-father and actually innocent? And, thought Gabrielle, it wasn't that stupid an idea. It stood to reason that a crazy person would have a crazy plan. It was logical. After all, a fool would not have a clever plan. A fool would have a foolish plan.

The barkeep flagged down Tonks as soon as she entered, and gave her a scroll. Tonks tapped the parchment with her wand and gaped as she read it. "We need to leave. Now," she announced.

"What is it?" asked Mrs. Weasley uneasily. She and Hermione had gotten out their wands.

"In the car - I'll tell you in the car," said Tonks as she beckoned them to hurry.

The car from the Ministry shot across an intersection and squeezed between two cars parked six inches apart to reach the group when Tonks raised her wand. The driver was clearly annoyed at being made to wait. His complaints were cut off by a look from Tonks, though. Or perhaps it was the wand she jabbed into his side.

Once the car was outside the ring road and headed west, Tonks explained the note. "McGonagall sent word. Savage, Harry, and Ron were attacked by the centaurs in the forest. Bitters is dead. Ron was badly injured but is doing fine now. Harry was scratched up a bit but is also fine." She turned her head to the window, frowning.

"Who is zis Savage?" asked Fleur.

"An auror. One of the instructors in the department. He was a good man," explained Tonks on a hollow voice. She turned back to the window, and a heavy silence descended. Mrs. Weasley wrung her hands repeatedly and Hermione worried her lip. Ginny seemed to take the news well. Gabrielle was frightened by the news. Not because someone she had only heard about had been killed, though. It was because she had overheard all the plans and precautions for the trip, and they had run into trouble anyway. Britain seemed so much more dangerous now, and for the second time today she wished Fleur had sent her home.

v - v - v - v - v

By the time Harry had decided to get the books Ron was definitely looking better, or at least pinker as the potions did their job. But first he had to escape from Madame Pomfrey's care. She had insisted that Harry's wounds could have been very serious and that rest was needed. Harry thought that made no sense and pointed out that he had not been poisoned, suffered no internal injuries, and wasn't bleeding. Ron suggested that was not far from being perfectly fine. Madame Pomfrey reminded Harry that he had been bleeding, and any exertions should be avoided - by resting. Harry responded by noting that he had not bled so much that he had needed a potion. Madame Pomfrey said that she was just waiting to make sure his body was clear of any toxins, and would now fetch him a dose. Harry slipped out of the infirmary before she could return.

The Room of Requirements came first, and Harry easily retrieved the potions text. He thumbed through its pages, and tried not to think of that bastard Snape when he saw the spiky writing. Harry also tried not to think of Dumbledore, whose tomb he had glimpsed from the speeding car. He failed on both accounts, and his mood swung wildly between melancholy and rage. Harry finally realized he should leave the book until later when he found himself laughing giddily at the thought that what he really needed was a calming draught, and how happy that would make Madame Pomfrey.

The walk to the library helped clear his head. It was eerie in the halls when the castle was so empty. A ghost he had never seen before walked a couple of steps behind him nearly the entire way. Harry tried to get a better look at it, but the apparition either moved just out of his sight or faded completely. It says something, thought Harry, when a place is so spooky that even a ghost prefers company.

Madame Pince still manned her post at the library. That had surprised Harry, but he guessed it was a good thing. Otherwise the library probably would have been locked. Madame Pince had been very helpful, once she had learned the books were for Hermione. She allowed Harry into the Restricted Section and helped him find references for recommended books. It had taken a lot less time to find what looked like good, comprehensive guides about port-keys and the Fidelius than he had expected. Everything went well up until he attempted to actually leave with the books. Madame Pince had apparently thought that Hermione would be coming directly to use the books in the library. It was an understatement to say that she was appalled at the thought of the books leaving the castle, let alone going all the way to Devon. The two had even briefly grappled over the book about port-keys. Harry had won the battle, but the librarian had then stormed off to get her wand and, she said, to gather her library minions. Harry couldn't tell if she was serious or not, so he tucked the books into the pajama top he wore from the infirmary and disillusioned himself again. Madame Pince was just lighting candles that stank of mold and of earth and were arranged around the points of a pentagram when Harry passed her desk. He was not interested in seeing what might end up in the middle of the chalked shape. How would they ever get a horcrux, thought Harry, if getting books was this hard?

v - v - v - v - v

The Ministry car could, it seemed, go even faster than it had on the way to London. Gabrielle found that closing her eyes made the trip easier to stand. She just imagined she was on a long trip through the Floo network. That made the lurches seem more natural. If she ever had a muggle car, she would find someone like Monsieur Toulier to drive it.

Once back at the Burrow, Tonks announced that she would be going back to the Ministry to see if there was any more information on the attack. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny all rushed to the fireplace in the sitting room. Fleur announced to Gabrielle that she would be taking a relaxing bath, and that Gabrielle should stay out of trouble. Gabrielle made faces at Fleur's retreating back, and went into the kitchen.

Gabrielle decided to try making tea again. She figured that Mrs. Weasley would like some at least, and it gave Gabrielle something to do. Gabrielle pulled the old kettle from the cupboard, filled it with water, and put it on the stove. The kettle her Maman had sent looked on unhappily.

"(You are not a proper witch,)" said the embossed face on the unused kettle.

"(You have said that before,)" sighed Gabrielle. She took down the tin of tea leaves.

"(I will not give you boiling water. You are not a proper witch.)"

"(The water is already heating. You are empty,)" pointed out Gabrielle. She sniffed the tea leaves. To Gabrielle, they smelled a little like an old flower arrangement, with none of the rich earthiness of coffee beans. Philippe could probably buy beans at a muggle shop easily. If only she had some francs to give him.

"(If you put water in me, I still will not boil it,)" declared the kettle from its shelf.

"(I don't need you. Now be quiet. I don't want to lose count.") Gabrielle started spooning leaves into the teapot. The kettle on the stove began to rumble.

"(I would be faster than that old thing,)" noted the new kettle smugly.

"(Not without water, which you don't have.)" Gabrielle wished she had a wand to end the kettle's chatter. At least it was not so rude today. That made it easier to ignore the jibes from the kettle. The ordinary kettle started to whistle as it came to a boil.

"(Ha. I can whistle more than one note. I can whistle songs. If I was boiling.)"

"(Which you are not and will not be until Mrs. Weasley makes tea after dinner,)" explained Gabrielle. When she had a house and a kitchen of her own, the only thing in it that would speak would be her.

"(She is a goddess, you know,)" stated the kettle, its metal face beaming. "(A beautiful goddess of the kitchen who has many uses for very hot water. Do you know she used water I boiled to coddle eggs? She is divine.)"

Gabrielle poured the boiling water into the teapot. What was she supposed to say to that? She could barely contain the giggles as it was. Gabrielle would have to tell Mrs. Weasley of her cast-iron follower. At the same time, though, Gabrielle had never heard the kettle refer to her Maman as a goddess and found that slightly insulting. Mrs. Weasley cooked for more people, that was true. But her Maman prepared the family's meals herself also. Then again, thought Gabrielle, the waffle-maker was acting funny too. She looked at the kettle closely. Perhaps it had been dented in transit.

"(I could heat soup directly, or boil eggs too. I'm sure of it. If the opening in my top is big enough, that is. I can not see it. Can you see if the opening is large enough for an egg?)"

Gabrielle rolled her eyes. It's definitely gone funny, she thought. "(Yes. An egg will fit in you. I will point that out to her. Now shut up,)" replied Gabrielle. She started sorting through the food pantry for biscuits or crackers to go with the tea. And maybe some cheese, Gabrielle thought, since she had skipped lunch and was finally feeling hungry.

v - v - v - v - v

Harry stood outside the infirmary door, waiting for the Floo call to end. He supposed it wasn't very much like a Gryffindor of him to do that and he couldn't really say why he was doing it, but he really didn't want to face Mrs. Weasley and Hermione right now. He did want to talk to Ginny, just in a more private setting. Besides, the tongue-lashing Ron was getting for not doing any number of things Ron couldn't possibly have known to do without seeing the future was pretty funny. As long, of course, as it was only happening to Ron.

"I see trouble as found you again, Mr. Potter."

Harry tried to draw his wand and spin around while both hands held books. Consequently, he dropped the books. He faced the taut expression of the new Headmistress of Hogwarts. "Professor McGonagall! I, er, didn't hear you come up."

"I have been practicing my technique with that goal in mind." The edges of her mouth lifted slightly. "It's still unclear as to whether I'll be able to put it to good use in the coming year."

"So Hogwarts may open after all?" asked Harry.

"I'd rather hoped the shocked question would be that it might close," McGonagall said stiffly, "but I suppose recent events would argue against optimism. It has not yet been decided to either have the school year or to cancel it."

"So there's still hope, then?"

"Some. Hagrid has returned safely. He brought back the unfortunate Mr. Savage. I have already alerted the Ministry, and sent word to the Weasleys." She gestured at the infirmary door with her walking stick. "The clamor tells me Molly has received it."

"Er, right," said Harry. He was beginning to feel guilty, like he usually did when he spoke to McGonagall. What he wanted to do most was go back to the Burrow.

"You seem to have recovered quickly. Go down to Hagrid's for some tea, and let him know how Mr. Weasley is getting along," suggested the Headmistress, looking at him over the top of her glasses.

"Yeah, all right. I mean, yes, ma'am."

"And please take care with those books. Madame Pince is in quite a state right now."

"Yes, Professor." Harry levitated the books back into his arms. McGonagall gave him a thin smile and abruptly shrank to a tabby cat, before padding silently away.

v - v - v - v - v

"Harry Potter."

Harry had just stepped off the the stone stairs leading to the castle grounds when he heard his name called. He recognized the voice, and his blood ran cold. Harry put the books on the stairs, and pulled out his wand again.

"Professor Firenze," said Harry in acknowledgement.

The centaur strode forward. Harry could see that he carried no weapon on him, and relaxed a little.

"I have heard of the attack. The herd is in an uproar, and at this time leaderless. Almost every male of age is incapacitated. It is a dark time," said Firenze evenly.

"I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast. I never intended for this to happen."

"We read the stars and see the signs in the smoke. The end-times were foretold; that a great wizard would come and destroy the herd. Bane thought it would be you and wished to eliminate all wizards from the forest. I knew of the evil that is Voldemort, and sided with you and your Professor Dumbledore. Ironically, Bane was correct. We both, however, made the mistake of believing we saw more than what was there, and that we could guide the future."

"What will happen now?" asked Harry.

"Mars is very bright, but Venus has also brightened. It is an unusual and unexpected sign, and bears watching."

"I meant what will happen to the herd?"

The centaur spread his arms wide with his palms up. "It is difficult to see. They have sent for me, those who once made me an outcast. That is not part of our tradition. A female of our kind, armed with a hunting bow, was sent with the summons. That is also not part of our species' tradition."

"So you're, er, leaving then?" Harry felt very exposed when the bow was mentioned, and shifted closer to the low wall of the stairs.

"The headmistress thinks of it as a 'leave of absence', but I will return to my kind."

"Oh. Well, um, good luck then. If there's any, you know, anything I could do to help?" suggested Harry. "I'm sure Hagrid could help tend..."

"No. We are a humbled herd, and will make our own way from here. Goodbye, Harry Potter."

"Goodbye, Professor," replied Harry. Firenze did not move however, but merely shifted his gaze to the forest. Harry stood by awkwardly as if something more was expected of the situation, before collecting his books again. He tried not to think of arrows on his way to Hagrid's hut.