Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. I do not have any association with J.K. Rowling or the publishers and distributors of the Harry Potter books. I do not profit from writing fanfiction in any way.
Four young students in black-and-yellow robes strolled through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry towards the Great Hall carrying a large green duffel bag. The sunlight was so bright that the front gate at the end of the Entrance Hall looked like a vast and heavenly wall of light. The quartet of second-year Hufflepuff students greeted the Fat Friar, Hufflepuff's House ghost, and received a scowl; After the Bandits led Hufflepuff house to its lowest point total in Hogwarts history in their first year, they became the favorite students of the victorious Nearly Headless Nick, and the least favorite of their own ghost, the Fat Friar.
"Don't worry, we'll help Hufflepuff win the House Cup this year," promised Roque. The overweight ghost rolled his eyes and disappeared through a wall.
The Bandits yielded as the ghosts of the Headless Hunt charged through the corridor and into the Great Hall. Three commemorative figurines stood adjacent to the entrance to the Great Hall of Hogwarts, carved from sparkling mineral that shimmered in the light of the high windows of the corridor. They were placed on a plinth in front of a life-size statue of a chubby kind-looking warlock.
At the center was Harry Potter, raising his Firebolt broomstick in triumph while clutching his Invisibility Cloak with the other hand. To his right, the statue of Ron Weasley stood a bit taller, wielding the Sword of Gryffindor with one hand and the Deluminator with the other. On the left side of the Harry Potter statue was that of Hermione Granger, standing straight with a determined look and clutching a book to her chest.
"Maybe we should write to them," said Roque. "Think of what we could do with that cloak."
"Doubt we'll be able to borrow it," said Elena. "We've only got the map because George was the one to give it to Harry."
"Still." Roque smiled wistfully. "Anyway, let's go. Any sign of Filch, Munky?"
"The Grand Staircase is clear," said the tall and bony Munky. "Filch is in his office with that poor sod Timmy Yolk. Never was very stealthy, that Timmy..."
"Hey, Timmy's really nice!" said Elena. "And shouldn't we treat him with respect? He's done something to anger Filch!"
"I think you're in love, Elena," said Blackboot. Elena scoffed. "Love is like candy on a shelf..."
"Silence," said Roque. "Your horrible singing is matched only by your ridiculous hair."
"Hey, ouch," said Blackboot, placing a hand over his heart. "At least I couldn't balance a goblet of pumpkin juice on mine."
"It's aerodynamic," argued Roque. "Hold on, let me check my desk."
Roque peeked his head into a familiar classroom and spotted a Gryffindor girl with blonde hair struggling to pry herself from the desk upon which she sat. Next to her was an alarmed Slytherin seventh-year who yelped once he spotted the young Bandit leader.
"Honestly, Robins, a Slytherin?" said Roque. "You're stuck for six hours. Stay off my desk. Foolish girl."
"Free her," demanded the Slytherin, drawing his wand. "I'm a prefect!"
There was a pause, then the Bandits burst into laughter and exited the classroom.
They made their way up the shifting Grand Staircase, stopping several times when the stairs decided to move in the wrong direction. There were so many portraits of varying shapes and sizes that the gray stone walls of the room were barely visible behind them. Within the portraits, several historically significant wizards, witches, goblins, trolls, and events were coexisting, connected in one big painted universe.
As they passed the third floor, they spotted a painting of a roundtable in the bowels of a dingy wooden pirate ship. Seven people were playing cards on a battered table. At the center was a warlock with a long black beard, a milky brown pipe that puffed gray smoke, and an eyepatch. Roque knew him to be the resident of the portrait.
Beside him was a tall wizard in purple robes. He had long white hair and beard, a crooked nose, and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. He offered the four Hufflepuff second-years a serene smile and a small wave before taking a sip from his pewter goblet. His drink caused steam to billow from his ears as he smiled in delight.
On the other side of the cycloptic pirate sat a teenage wizard with shiny copper-colored hair and a wicked grin. He acknowledged the bandits with a nod, then spotted the green duffel bag and winked to them, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Roque had always thought of him as a two-eared George, but knew him to be George's deceased twin brother, Fred Weasley.
Sitting next to Fred was a young boy with mousy light brown hair and a big clunky old-fashioned camera strapped around his neck, who wasn't very good at hiding his excitement over the cards he was dealt. He'd nearly tipped his mug of butterbeer over with glee.
Sitting across from the mousy-haired boy, on the other side of the table, a man in a slightly shabby-looking steel-blue suit was observing his jollity with a wistful smile. He had short graying brown hair and a bit of chin stubble. Beside him was a younger girl with bright bubblegum-pink hair and a gleeful smile under the nose of a pig, which then transformed into a bird's beak.
"Oi!" barked Fred. "You can't go metamorphagasizing, that's cheating!"
"I just have a good poker face," said Tonks.
"It's not the nose that gives a person away," said Dumbledore calmly. "Just look at Colin."
"What? Me?" Colin gulped. "I've nothing to give away."
"Oh, no, you're straight as a Snorkack, you are," said Fred. He placed his cards face-down on the table. "I fold."
"Fold?" asked Dumbledore. "I thought we were playing Go Fish?"
"Bunch of nutters," mumbled Munky as he and his fellow Bandits moved on to the fourth floor.
On a ledge that led to the bathroom, a mirror was placed on the wall under a portrait of a man slumbering on a pile of emptied bottles of mead while his little brown dog drank the remaining booze from his fallen goblet. According to the Marauder's Map, the secret passageway behind the mirror could only be opened by tapping a Ravenclaw badge to the center of the glass and whispering a specific incantation.
"Got the badge?" asked Roque, looking to Blackboot.
"Yeah," said Blackboot. He withdrew a blue badge with an eagle crest from his pocket and handed it to Roque.
"Whose is it?" asked Elena.
"Timmy's," said Roque.
"That must be why he was talking to Filch," said Munky.
"And you wanted to show him respect," said Blackboot, nodding to Elena with a smirk.
"Silly girl," said Roque as he tapped the Ravenclaw badge to the mirror and said, "Ostium Revelio."
The four Hufflepuffs witnessed their reflections fade as the glass of the mirror disappeared, revealing a steep downward staircase that was lit by seemingly endless rows of torches on its narrow walls. The Bandits began their descent down the long path, occasionally checking their location on the Marauder's map. This path appeared to take them through the hills to the east, similar to the Whomping Willow passageway, curving around the Great Lake and leading directly to the hut behind Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.
"This must be where it's caved in," said Elena, her voice echoing through the long tunnel.
They'd made it halfway to Hogsmeade when the small tunnel widened into a room large enough for a small organization to use as the venue for a meeting. It was blocked by a large clutter of debris from the ceiling above; The Bandits wondered aloud if Fred and George had been the ones to cause the mess.
"All right," said Roque. "We're going to place Decoy Detonators right here to the left - it's a key structural point, by the looks of it - then we're going to set one Detonator off and set it to walk into the others while we retreat back up the tunnel."
"Got it." Blackboot placed the green duffel bag beside the wall of stone and wood and began carefully extracting the little bombs, placing them against the wall of rubble.
"We should learn the Locomotor Charm if we're going to smuggle Butterbeer up those stairs," said Munky. "Because I know you guys will try to make me do it."
"Try?" Roque smirked.
"All set," said Blackboot.
They filed back into the long tunnel whence they came, leaving Blackboot to crank the metallic winder on the back of the last Decoy Detonator. Its yellow ducklike legs began waddling in mid-air before Blackboot set it on the ground, pointing it towards the pile of little bombs. Immediately after placing it, he turned and sprinted back towards the tunnel, chasing after his fleeing friends. They'd made it about twenty yards before booming thump quaked the ground beneath their feet and caused embers to shoot from the torches that lined the walls.
They stumbled over, becoming enveloped in a thin cloud of dust that wafted through the tunnel. Elena waved her wand in the air, creating a small gust of wind that helped to clear the fog. As they stood and brushed themselves off, Blackboot nodded to her.
"Nice one," he said. "Looks like doing your homework actually paid off."
Elena smiled and hid her blush by turning and walking towards the site of the detonation. When they reached it, they saw sunlight slanting down from above as a hole had been blown through the ceiling. They trudged over a barren surface of crumbled rock and shattered wood, occasionally blasting obstructing bits away with their unrefined Reductor curses. Elena whimpered at the sight of an old, dried horse skeleton that lay scattered in a previously blocked corner.
At the other end of the room, the path narrowed again into another stone tunnel lit only by the dim golden glow of the long rows of torches on its gray walls. Their path swerved loosely to the right as it reached Hogsmeade, passed below the Three Broomsticks and ended at a big double staircase that led to the hut behind Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop.
"Can you dance like a Hippogriff?" sang Blackboot as the Bandits climbed the steps, panting a bit from the long journey. "Na na na, na na na, na na na!"
Roque made a mental note to learn how to execute a Silencing Charm as they reached the door to Hogsmeade and attempted to open it. The door wouldn't budge, even for Munky's strength.
"Drat, it's locked," said Roque, angrily tugging on the handle. "Insolent door!"
"Oh, of course it's locked," said Elena. "Alohomora!"
The heavy iron lock sprang open and fell to the ground with a clunk, and Roque grasped the door handle and pushed the door open. The Bandits recoiled at what was waiting for them on the other side: the wild beady eyes of Mr. Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts, who had a disturbingly delighted grin. Flanking him were Mrs. Norris, his feline sentinel, and a tiny Slytherin second-year with a blonde bowl-cut and thick glasses.
"My, my," said Filch, growing more joyed by the second. "We are in trouble, aren't we?"
"You!" growled Roque, glaring down at the minute Sean Albright. "You little - argh, you little -"
"That's enough," hissed Filch. "Follow me, lads. Wonder if she'll let me get me thumbscrews, eheh..."
Defeated, the four doomed Hufflepuffs took their last dread march back up towards the castle, cursing Filch's puny watchdog and silently vowing their revenge.
After the Bandits had followed Filch to the end of the main road of Hogsmeade, they were unable to spot a pair of eyes observing them from within the hut at the end of the secret path that was to be named the Bandits' Mirror passageway. The door of the hut eased open to reveal a triumphantly grinning Gryffindor second-year boy, who had milky brown skin, a gaunt face with puffy cheeks, and a short afro.
Conrad Castle exited the hut and stalked past Scrivenshaft's, carrying the green duffel bag the Bandits had left behind, and making his way to the Hog's Head pub, where one could stock up on Butterbeer with no questions asked.
The kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, usually immaculate by Kreacher's expert hands, was currently being gutted as two young men searched desperately for a remedy to their growling stomachs. Cupboards were being emptied as a tall ginger-haired boy tossed Hermione's stale sugar-free snacks aside to find his stash of Chocolate Frogs. Similarly, the redhead's bespectacled friend was removing bags of rice, dry noodles, and other ingredients with which he had no idea what to do.
"Where is it?" asked Harry. "I can't find anything."
"It was right here!" replied Ron. "Unless..."
"She found it?" Harry and Ron whipped their heads around to look at Hermione in the living room.
She was sitting cross-legged in a bloodred armchair and perusing Rita's sixth and latest semi-fiction novel, titled Harry Potter and the Fascination with the Dark Arts, while conversing with the portrait of Sirius Black on the opposite wall, perhaps discussing the book. She glanced at them with an innocent expression for a moment before returning to the book. Harry narrowed his eyes while Ron did a sort of tooth-grinding pout.
"She's raided the cupboards," said Ron. "I know it. She must have done away with the Chocolate Frogs. All because her parents are 'dentists.'"
"More like 'mentists,'" he added.
"Mentists?" asked Harry.
"They're completely mental," explained Ron. Harry raised his eyebrows.
"Don't Wizards have ways of cleaning their teeth?" wondered Harry. "Surely we can deal with a bit of plaque."
"Yeah. Not sure what 'plaque' is but there's a potion that fixes your teeth right up." Ron began returning food to the cupboards. "A'course, it won't help poor wankers like Marcus The Darkness and Merlin. They're much too far gone."
"Come to think of it, they do look surprisingly similar." Harry widened his eyes. "D'you reckon Flint is a direct descendant?"
"He is a Pureblood, actually," said Ron. "Though that doesn't mean much these days. We're all probably half-bloods anyway."
"Eager to get rid of that Pureblood status, yeah?" Harry grinned, retrieving a sugar-free biscuit from a box that hadn't been touched since they'd moved in; there was a thin layer of dust coating the lid. "Did you ever notice our little trio is made up of the three different blood types?"
"Yeah, you're right!" Ron nodded thoughtfully. "And we have the three different wand cores, don't we?"
"And eye colors."
"And hair colors."
"There are more than three main hair colors though," argued Harry.
"Don't be a downer." Ron grinned. "Hey, pass me one of those. Can't be worse than the Shrieking Shack's furniture, can they?"
Hermione observed their conversation carefully, then reached into her black beaded bag and withdrew a pentagonal blue box. She covertly took the wiggling chocolate frog from the box and popped it into her mouth before returning to her book and disposing of the evidence with a Banishing Charm. Sirius watched in amusement as Harry and Ron stepped into the room with matching grimaces as they attempted to keep the stale biscuits from coming back up.
"Hermione, we need a proper dinner," said Ron. "Since you've gotten rid of everything edible in the house."
Hermione nodded, still chewing the very edible Chocolate Frog. She gulped it down, then said, "The Leaky, then?"
"Ever tried the pea soup?" asked Sirius. "You've got to eat it before it -"
"Eats you," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "So I've heard. We have to wait for Ginny before we go, though."
Harry and Ron plopped down together on the couch and propped their feet up on the coffee table. They waited for a few minutes with frequent glances towards the hall for any sign of Ginny. Every once in a while, Phineas would pop his head in, looking for entertainment, only to leave once he'd been spotted. After a while, Hermione glanced up from her book, fixing Ron with an appraising look.
"How far did you go with Lavender?" she asked. Ron sputtered and coughed loudly.
"What?" he asked, his eyes wide. Sirius sniggered from his portrait. "Just snogging. Why?"
"Well according to Rita you'd mentally scarred Colin and Dennis when they took a wrong turn down the Charms corridor."
"Nah," said Ron. "Just kissing. Never saw under her robes or anything like that."
"Good." Hermione turned a page in her book.
"Wait a tick!" said Harry. "That did happen, but it was Michael and Cho. Colin told me about it."
"Perhaps Rita's source of information has been cut off," said Hermione. "Not that it was ever very accurate."
"It has," said Ron. "Don't ask how I know - werewolf secret, you know - but Hermione, you should tell her the real story for her next book and make sure she doesn't muck it up."
"Why me?" Hermione frowned. "Why should I be made to deal with that shrew?"
"Because you scare the wits out of that woman," said Ron adoringly. Hermione smirked.
"Not much of an accomplishment," she replied.
There was a series of clicks from the hall as the big battered front door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place undid its many locks. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood and jogged into the foyer. The door opened to reveal the crimson hair and brown eyes of Ginny Weasley, clad in a full Holyhead Harpies Quidditch uniform. Hermione shrieked in excitement and Harry ran to sweep Ginny into a spinning hug, while Ron beamed proudly and patted his sister on the shoulder once Harry had set her down.
"You did it, Gin!" said Ron. "I knew you would."
"Well done!" added Hermione. Harry simply stared.
It wasn't until Ginny looked Harry in the eye with a wide smile that he attacked. He wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her into himself, drawing her lips into his. Ron begrudgingly looked away as Ginny responded happily. The snogging couple spiraled through the hall, nearly tripping over the umbrella stand that was crafted from a hollowed troll leg. Hermione observed the increasingly agitated Ron, on the verge of laughter, until he finally stepped in and pried his best friend and sister apart.
"All right, clear off," growled Ron. "We were just going down to the Leaky Cauldron, Ginny. Let's go celebrate."
"All right." Ginny skipped upstairs to change out of her Quidditch gear. Harry made a movement to follow her, but faltered once he'd caught Ron's narrowed eyes.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny pushed through the door to the Leaky Cauldron and entered the dark and grubby pub. The air was fogged with a haze of blue and gray smoke, chiefly due to a group of elderly witches sitting at a booth in the corner puffing their long pipes and sipping from cups of sherry. Dedalus Diggle was visible under his purple tall top-hat by the bar as he discussed something with Tom, the bald and toothless bartender. Harry recognized the Hufflepuff Hannah Abbot as she moved from table to table, tending to the customers.
Harry nodded to the crowd as they gave him his usual reception in the form of double-takes, stares, and gasps. Several of Harry's fans saluted him and raised their glasses to him, as his companions grinned at his embarrassment. Ron quickly made his way to the bar to order food and butterbeer as Harry, Ginny, and Hermione sat at one of the many booths lining the bar's white walls.
"Look," said Ginny, pointing to a small wooden wireless that was stuck to the wall beside the table. "Wonder if we can get Potterwatch on this."
"Let's see..." Hermione began tinkering with the knobs and dials, leaning in to listen for a signal.
Just as Ron returned and sat down beside Hermione, they were approached by two of their old classmates and fellow Gryffindors: the tall and thin Dean Thomas, and the sandy blonde-haired, incessantly smiling Lavender Brown. The group greeted their old friends warmly; Hermione's instinctive reaction to Lavender's presence was to grab Ron around his shoulders and hold him tightly, as if afraid he'd wander off.
"Mind if we sit?" said Dean.
"Not at all," said Harry.
Dean winked and sat on Harry and Ginny's side, leaving Ron sandwiched between Lavender and Hermione. Dean, Ginny, and Harry exchanged wicked grins as Ron cleared his throat and stared at the table. Lavender smiled at his awkwardness.
"Any news?" said Lavender. "How is everything?"
"I've just joined the Holyhead Harpies," said Ginny. "Chaser."
"Excellent!" exclaimed Dean. Lavender squealed as well. "Good job!"
"Oh, it was nothing," said Ginny. "Hogwarts prepared me quite well for it."
"Was it difficult?" said Dean. "They've got a great team this year, don't they?"
"They're all right," said Ron. "They're no Cannons, but..."
Ron's sentence was drowned by a round of chuckling.
"You could take the championship in your rookie year," said Harry. "And become the captain."
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," said Ginny. Harry ignored her and began humming Weasley is our King.
"How's Auror training?" said Dean. Harry and Ron sighed. "That bad, huh?"
"Brutal," explained Ron. "They've got us doing all sorts of different stuff. Potions, Cursebreaking, dueling, and no rests."
"Kills the legs," added Harry. "We're not doing that many drills anymore, though. We're covering Stealth and Tracking right now. Ernie's a real ace."
"Ah, so Ernie's there?"
"Yeah, he's in our squad. It's me, Harry, Ernie, and a girl - Clarinda - she's shit at stealth, though, because she's got too much energy to be patient, but she's still passing."
"Wicked." Dean grinned. "She fit?"
"Honestly," said Hermione as Dean attempted to look innocent. "And watch your language, Ron."
"Auror training sounds a bit fun," said Lavender. "You didn't think it was going to be easy, did you?"
"It's a tough job, yeah," said Ron. "But I'm a tough bloke."
Hermione rolled her eyes at Lavender's excessive giggle and began fiddling with the wooden wireless again. Hannah arrived with their food, and placed a large basket of tortilla chips and salsa at the center of the table, which Ron immediately started on.
"That's from Dedalus," said Hannah. Harry stood and craned his neck to search the crowded pub for Dedalus's purple tophat.
"Come eat with us!" he called to Dedalus after spotting him by the door, retrieving his cloak from a rack near the exit.
"I'm afraid I can't, Harry," he replied, barely audible over the pub's chaotic chatter. "Enjoy the food, Harry! Safe travels!"
"Safe travels?" repeated Ginny.
"Leave him alone," said Ron, chomping the chips with a grateful smile. "He's a good man."
"So how's the - er - modeling, was it?" said Harry.
"Just fine," said Lavender.
"That reminds me, the painting's almost done," mentioned Dean, helping himself to the chips. "I'll have it to you within the week, probably."
"Lavender didn't pose for it, did she?" said Ron through a mouthful of beef, before taking a swig of butterbeer. "Didn't you say you were going to 'strike while the iron's hot?'"
"Yeah, right," said Lavender as Dean cleared his throat and pretended not to hear. "Because Hermione would let you hang a portrait of me in your living room."
Hermione sniggered at this, and said, "It'd be better than the posters he chose."
"What were they?" asked Lavender, leaning past Ron to listen.
"Half-naked Muggle women," replied Hermione, smirking.
"No way!" Lavender raised her eyebrows. "That's just like Ron, isn't it?"
"Er..." Ron gulped.
"Yes," said Hermione. "Then, of course, he tried to pin it on Harry."
"Ha!" Lavender nudged Ron's elbow. "That flying idea was yours too, wasn't it?"
"We both wanted to," mumbled Ron.
"Do you know how he got McGonagall to pay the House-Elves?" asked Hermione.
"No. How?"
"Uh oh," said Dean to Harry and Ginny. "You can't let your girlfriend and your ex-girlfriend form an alliance. That's just no good for any bloke."
Ron quickly turned a switch on the wireless so that the voice of Lee Jordan interrupted the conversation. Lee was in the middle of a report.
"Found alive, but shaken, in a cave that once belonged to the late Gragluk the Goblin, who was believed to be his captor. Ludo Bagman has now been admitted to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and is expected to make a complete, if slow, recovery."
The group around the table shared alerted looks. Hermione cranked the volume up.
"Speaking of Goblins, ladies and gentlemen, a medium-security vault at Gringotts Wizard Bank was breached this afternoon. The vault, belonging to the Moja family of Budleigh Babberton, was raided by an unknown thief, though Gringotts officials insist nothing was taken."
"The Moja family," said Hermione. "That name is familiar."
"Never heard of it," said Ron.
"Listeners should note that Gringotts has only experienced two breaches of security in the past: The first was by Quirinus Quirrell, once a professor at Hogwarts who's now dead. Quirrell was capable of extraordinary Dark magic, possibly because of a bond he shared with Voldemort. The second, and the only successful robbery of a Gringotts vault, was by the famed Golden Trio just two years ago in their quest to defeat the Dark Lord. Thus, it is likely that this break-in was perpetrated by a particularly skilled sorcerer.
"That's Potterwatch, ladies and gentlemen, live from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We'll be taking a short break so I can re-stock the shelves and maybe enjoy a meat bun. This is your host, River, and I'll leave you to enjoy the soothing sounds of the Weird Sisters. Potterwatch news-time: 9:18."
"You're amazing, you know that?" said Harry, guiding Ginny into their room. Kreacher was cleaning the windows on the far wall. "I told you to take the night off, Kreacher."
"Oh, yes, Master Harry, thank you," said Kreacher, before promptly vanishing with a *pop*
"Just amazing," continued Harry. "Chaser for the Harpies. Now you'll be on your own wall."
"Our own wall," corrected Ginny, sitting beside Harry on their bed.
"I'll have to get one for my cubicle at the Auror office as well," said Harry, leaning in closer.
"Shame they don't make posters of famous Aurors," said Ginny. "They should."
"I'll pose for a calendar." Harry grinned and pressed his lips to hers.
"Ginny?" said Harry after a few minutes of increasingly heavy snogging.
"Yes, Harry?" asked Ginny, grinning.
"Don't suppose you'd want to, you know..." Harry waggled his eyebrows. "Go farther tonight."
"I thought you'd never ask," replied Ginny.
She gave Harry a few moments to place his spectacles on the bedside table before tackling him onto the bed. Through their passionate wrestling, as they kissed each other thoroughly and ripped each others clothing off, Harry mainly remembered the scent of her hair as she dug her forehead into his chest. His heartbeat raced with nervousness as he carefully tested every movement before committing. He guiltily considered stopping when he heard Ron fall over upstairs and swear loudly.
Instead, Harry took this time to execute a Muffliato, with a Silencing Charm for good measure. He also stopped to employ George's Contraceptive Charm, which Neville had passed on to him. Eventually, Ginny grew impatient and took over, and, as their bare bodies met, everything else suddenly seemed unimportant to him.
After they tired out and stopped to rest, Harry observed Ginny's peacefully slumbering form and smiled, finally feeling the full weight of the situation. Harry had been reluctant to accept that his life would now be free of its usual sense of life-threatening danger. He'd never had such a comfortable arrangement, having gone from a peasant's life with the Dursleys to a few moments of bliss at Hogwarts before he began life at the top of Voldemort's hit list.
Now, he lived with his new family, the Weasleys, was closer than ever with his best friends, had a magnificent godson, and was even on good terms with Dudley Dursley.
Somewhere through these thoughts, Harry welcomed sleep, hoping Ron wouldn't find them naked in the morning.