Chapter Thirteen
Morequest Pester
Harry dropped his arm from Ginny's waist and took her hand as they crossed the tracks and headed up the lane. He started to speak but snapped his mouth shut, and after a moment said, "I was just about to say something nasty, but I thought, that's exactly what she wants. The hell with that. This is your day, and nothing is going to spoil it."
Ginny let out her breath, which she had been holding in anticipation of an explosion. "We should talk about her," she said tersely.
"What for? She's trash. As long as she's not bothering you, I don't care." He stopped and turned to her; they were near the gates. "Is she bothering you? I'll go back and make her stop."
"No, don't, Harry. It's not that. She's not just trash." Ginny couldn't forget the prickly feeling on the back of her neck when she walked into The Three Broomsticks.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't explain it, but even before I saw her, something made me want to throw a hex." She smiled a little. "I'm used to your admirers, they don't bother me, although this one's gone a little beyond what any girl at Hogwarts ever did, at least as far as I know."
They started walking again, and both of them looked up at the winged boars perched atop the pillars. Ahead was the castle. Ginny could see no external damage; the hole in Gryffindor Tower's roof was repaired, in fact it didn't look like there had ever been a hole.
"Is everything fixed?" she asked.
"I was there last week and I couldn't see any damage. It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Ginny smiled. "I love it."
"So why did you want to hex her?"
"I don't know, but I don't think she's just a simple tramp."
"Do you think she painted the Dark Mark?"
"You said she had an alibi. But she's doing things no normal woman would do in public. Either she's crazy, or she has other motives."
"Yeah, but what?"
"I don't know. Does Rosmerta know anything about her?"
Harry told her what he had learned, and Ginny shook her head. "I can't figure it out."
"Well, let's forget about it. As long as she's not bothering you, I don't want to think about her." They were at the bottom of the steps, and could see the entrance hall inside the open doors. Harry grinned. "They left the doors open. Professor McGonagall must not think she's a problem, either."
Ginny laughed. Her spirits had risen again after the brief unpleasantness, and she put her arm through Harry's as they passed the doors. Looking around, everything seemed exactly as it had been before the battle. The House hourglasses were intact, the upper halves filled with colored jewels. The balustrades were repaired, as were the marble stairs, the walls and the floor. They looked into the Great Hall; the enchanted ceiling was inactive, but sunlight was streaming through the high windows and falling on the four tables, empty now.
They climbed up to Gryffindor Tower, but the Fat Lady refused to let them in without the password. She had a smirk on her face as they tried some random phrases. "Go get it from the Headmistress, if you're so anxious to go inside. You'll never guess it."
They decided to see first if Professor Flitwick was in his office, so they walked around to the West Tower and knocked on his door. When there was no answer they traipsed through the corridors and down several staircases to Professor McGonagall's office. The portraits along the way greeted them, and the wizards bowed to Ginny, flourishing their hats. The password that Harry had used last week—"Firth of Forth"—still worked. They were carried up the spiral stairs, and knocked on the door.
"Come!" the Headmistress called. Inside, McGonagall was standing at a bookshelf, perusing a large, leather-bound volume, but she put it back on the shelf and smiled when she saw them. "Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, it's good to see you." She went to her desk and sat. "Have a seat. Harry, there's something I want to discuss with you."
They took seats in chairs that appeared behind them. "We were wondering if you could give us the password for the Fat Lady," Harry said. "She wouldn't let us in."
"'Everything's fine'," said the Headmistress.
"It is," smiled Harry. "I've got the inn all set up, and we had Winky's first meal this afternoon."
"I'm glad to hear that, but I was giving you the password." Ginny tried to hide a laugh with a hand over her mouth.
"Oh," said Harry; he grinned at Ginny. "Got it."
McGonagall also smiled. "Did you just stop by for a visit, then? Well, as long as you're here, I need to talk about the Dark Mark on your inn, Harry."
"Oh," Harry said once again, unpleasantly surprised. He had not wanted news about the Mark to go beyond Hogsmeade, but now he realized how unlikely that hope had been, and wondered who else knew. "It was probably just a prank."
"Why do you think that?" McGonagall asked. "There are still people out there who wanted Riddle to succeed. Since you are the one who destroyed him, they have a motive."
"To do what? It was crude, and it was on the back wall where no one would see it. I got rid of it with a simple cleaning charm."
"Perhaps, but remember, his leaders and his most talented followers are all dead or in prison. The ones remaining are not capable, at least not yet, of doing much more than annoy you."
Ginny spoke up. "If they're so inept, why get all worried? Harry is ten times the wizard any of them are. What could they do to him?"
"Probably not much. But word spreads, and others who are not so clumsy but may harbor similar feelings will hear and become encouraged. But that is not my primary concern right now. Whatever happens in Hogsmeade affects Hogwarts. Students go there on weekends. Parents and other visitors often stay there. It is one of our windows into the wizarding world. Do you see why someone's defacing your building with a Dark Mark concerns me?"
"Yes," Harry admitted, "but if it was just a kid trying to be funny, I still don't see why all the fuss. They had their fun, and that's the end of it."
He was growing annoyed. Ever since he had arrived in Hogsmeade with Ginny he had wanted to put the Dark Mark behind him. If the perpetrator was nothing more than a local truant, he knew that he or Tony or Rosmerta could deal with it. He did not want headmistresses or Aurors or anyone else sticking their wands into it. It would mean nothing but problems and interference with him and Ginny.
McGonagall peered at him over her eyeglasses, eyebrows arched. "I am not making a fuss, Harry, I am doing my job, which is first and foremost the safety of my students. Surely you were aware that one of the few things that made Professor Dumbledore irritable was questioning his commitment to the security of Hogwarts. Maybe it was just a 'kid' as you say, but maybe it was someone with more serious intentions."
Harry glanced at the wall behind McGonagall and saw that Dumbledore's portrait was empty, and realized that contention was counterproductive because, simply, he would not be able to keep the Headmistress's nose out of The Hog's Head if she wanted it there. He tried deflection.
"What I was thinking of doing was to ask Professor Flitwick about protective charms, maybe even some detection spells to let me know when someone is out back."
"It's an excellent idea to see Professor Flitwick. Maybe he can even make it an assignment as part of your private lessons."
Harry glanced at Ginny; they both stood. "He wasn't in his office when we stopped by," Harry said. "Maybe we'll look for him later."
McGonagall nodded and wished them good day. "But remember, Harry, whatever happens in Hogsmeade concerns me."
Back in the corridor Ginny grinned at Harry. "Yes, an excellent idea," she repeated the Headmistress's line.
Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to argue with her. She's good friends with Rosmerta, so she's going to know whatever happens in Hogsmeade. And she's right, too. It's her job. I just don't want a lot of official-types sticking their noses into the inn. Just leave me the hell alone!"
Ginny looked at him in surprise. "What's wrong, Harry? No one's trying to meddle. If there are followers of Riddle still out there, people need to know."
"Yeah, I know," Harry said more calmly as they stood again in front of the Fat Lady. "It's just . . . Ginny, don't you see? I just want to be with you. That's the reason I'm doing all this, and every time someone or something gets in the way, I get frustrated. My whole life, I've been told what to do. The Dursleys, Dumbledore . . ." He shook his head.
"Don't, love," she said softly. "It will all be wonderful. It will be just you and me, and I can't wait for school to start. I'll be Quidditch captain and I'll be with you. I don't care about anything else." She kissed him, and the Fat Lady coughed. They both looked at her. "Everything's fine," said Ginny. "It really is."
"So it seems," the portrait sniffed. She swung back and they climbed through into the common room.
Harry stood before the fireplace and gazed around. Everything was in its place and ready for school to begin; there was none of the clutter and disorder that marked the term from day one, after the first students had arrived. There was no fire in the fireplace, but Harry's favorite battered old easy chair was there and he put his hand on it. "I'll miss this place. I missed it last year."
Ginny had hesitated by the portrait hole. "Harry, let's go back to Hogsmeade."
Harry turned. "Okay, but I thought you wanted to see the castle."
"I did, but . . . I have an idea."
Harry's plaint out in the hallway had disturbed Ginny. His words recalled her thoughts up in the flat before lunch, just an hour or two earlier. The day had been so special, so full of happy things and love, that she didn't want his spirits to slide into a pit—or even a little hole—and ruin an almost perfect day. Instead, what she had in mind would help Harry complete his dream of a home for them.
They left—the Fat Lady "toodle-ooing" them off—and started down the corridor to the stairs. "What's your idea?" Harry asked. "Do you want to go back to the flat?" He looked at her hopefully.
"Not right away," Ginny giggled. "I thought . . . maybe . . . we could Apparate to Diagon Alley and buy some things."
"A shopping trip?"
"Yes!" Ginny took his arm. "There's so many new shops there. Hermione was telling me about some of them. We could get almost everything we need, and have our pictures taken. We'd still be able to get back in time for dinner."
"Okay, if that's what you want. Should you tell your . . ." Harry didn't finish the sentence when he saw her frown, but he laughed. "Sorry, I forgot. We're on our own."
They walked back to the inn and told Winky what they were doing, and left her with a message for Ron and Hermione in case they arrived first. Ginny took Harry's arm and in a moment they were in Diagon Alley in front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. They went in and saw Lee Jordan behind the counter. He waved and they pushed their way to him through the crowded store.
"Happy birthday, and how was the party, Ginny?" he greeted them.
Ginny told him about her presents as Harry looked around. The shop appeared to be thriving with a few dozen customers and their children wandering around or buying jokes. Two of the young witches who had been at Fred's funeral were also behind the counter. Ginny chatted with Lee for a while; he knew about the inn, and congratulated Harry and told him he would be up for a firewhiskey after it opened. They told Lee they would stop back before returning home, and went out into the busy street.
Hermione was right, there were many new businesses, and all of the Dark Arts shops that Harry had seen when he broke into Gringotts were gone. Ginny pulled him into Kolarovski's, a rug emporium specializing in Persian rugs, and Harry walked out poorer by several hundred Galleons but the owner of two new floor coverings, an intricate Persian for the bedroom and a very thick, red shag for in front of the fireplace.
Next door was a new bookstore called The Crooked Mile, and they went inside to compare their prices with Flourish and Blotts. But when the owner saw Harry, she shrieked and threw herself at him and began sobbing on his chest. He looked at Ginny in bewilderment. When they finally got her calmed down, she told them that she was one of the Muggle-borns who Harry had rescued in the Department of Mysteries. She had been cowering on the floor outside the hearing room with the others when Harry and Hermione had burst out, wielding their Patronuses and driving the dementors away.
After she escaped from the Ministry, she found her family and they went into hiding in Ireland where her husband had relatives. Now they were back in England, and she had opened the bookstore with gold from a compensation fund set up for people who had been persecuted by the Death Eater regime.
"Bless Kingsley Shacklebolt," she said as she wiped tears from her face, "and bless you, Harry Potter. You saved my life and my children's lives."
Harry mumbled his thanks, and asked if she had any books on advanced charms and spells. The witch took them to a small section of charms books. "I don't carry too many of these," she said. "I can't compete with the big boys down the block. I specialize mostly in sports. My husband used to play Quidditch, and my two boys love sports." She glanced at Harry as though she wanted to ask him something, and when he had finished looking over two or three volumes, she spoke to him.
"Mr. Potter, do you know what happened to that witch who was running those hearings? She looked like a fat little toad."
Harry snorted. "That's her exactly. Dolores Umbridge, evil personified. I don't know where she is. I never asked, but I suppose she's in Azkaban." He frowned for a moment. "I'm sure she is, otherwise I would have heard that she had escaped."
"Are you certain? I'm asking because my children still have nightmares about her. She questioned them when I was arrested, terrorized them is more like it, and when she comes to trial I want to testify against her." The woman was close to tears again.
Harry touched her hand. "I'm glad you all got away. I'll try to find out where she is."
They left the store with Ginny's arm in Harry's. "How quickly we forget," he said as they walked along. "It was bad enough for me and your family, but for someone like them, they had to choose between leaving the country and maybe dying or losing their children."
As they strolled down the Alley, they began to notice people looking at them, and heard a few whispers as they passed. They ducked into Hippolites' Home Furnishings, next door to Gringotts, and Ginny started picking out kitchenware. The clerk recognized Harry, and hovered over them in a most irritating way, constantly asking if they needed help or offering advice for the young couple setting up house for the first time. That got Harry extremely annoyed, and he wanted to leave, but by then Ginny had already selected dishes, utensils, pots, pans, mugs, glasses, and even a few small, framed pictures of magical British landscapes, and she told the clerk, kindly but firmly, to leave them alone or else lose the sale. He retreated behind his counter, but watched them until they came to pay.
"Find everything you were looking for?" he asked cheerfully. "We can always special order, you know. Have you seen our catalog? We have other stores in Lancaster and Plymouth, if you ever happen to be there."
He chattered on, obviously not wanting the famous Harry Potter to leave. Other customers began to drift over, gawking, until Harry decided to lure them away so they wouldn't bother Ginny. He started walking aimlessly around the shop, the crowd following him, until he saw that Ginny was finished. He went to the counter, quickly paid, and they left.
"Let's just get our pictures taken," Harry said. "This is getting on my nerves." They walked past Gringotts, and Harry saw that the damage caused by the escaping dragon was repaired. The goblin guards standing in front recognized him, though, and one of them scurried inside. "Probably warning them to beef up security," Harry laughed. They continued on to the apothecary that stood near the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron; in a photographer's studio in the back they had their pictures taken. They bought frames, conveniently on sale in the front, and steeled themselves for the walk back to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.
"This is so strange," Ginny said as they walked as quickly as they could without actually running, attracting stares. "No one ever paid any attention to me like this. I guess it goes with the territory."
Harry grinned. "So you'll stick it out with me?"
"Through thick and thin. I just furnished our flat, so I have to." They laughed together until they got to the joke shop.
"Did you get waylaid?" Lee asked them. "People were coming in talking about seeing you out there."
"Yeah, but there was only one really obnoxious one," Harry said. They showed him the photographs and, as dusk began to fall, Disapparated back to Hogsmeade, appearing in the kitchen where they had left from.
Winky was not there, but light came from the dining room. Ron and Hermione were sitting at the bar and Winky was behind it on a stool, trying to get the butterbeer keg to work. She was vigorously pumping the handle, sweat pouring down her face and dripping onto the bar, muttering to herself and surprising Harry with some of the words coming out of her mouth.
"There's nothing in the keg yet," Harry said as he and Ginny joined them. "We won't be getting any butterbeer or anything else in for another couple of weeks."
"Well, why doesn't Harry Potter say so?" Winky glared at him, wiped her face with a bar towel, threw it down on the counter and jumped off the stool. When she appeared from behind the bar she threw Harry another dirty look and stalked into the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
"I never told her to tend bar," Harry said apologetically to Hermione. "I hope she'll cook dinner."
"So you went to Diagon Alley?" Ron asked as they moved to a table and sat down together. Harry showed them the photos they had taken in the apothecary. "Why didn't you tell us? We could have come along."
"We were shopping," Ginny answered when Harry hesitated. "For the flat. It was fun."
"Really?" said Hermione. "Where did you go? Did you see that cute new clothing store next to Eeylops? I saw a dress there I wanted to try on, but this one—" she pointed at Ron with her thumb "—didn't want to be late for your party, which we got to three full days ahead of time, in case you didn't notice." She said the last directly to Ron, who shrugged.
"I hate shopping," he said to Harry. "I never knew I did until I had to wait an hour and a half in Madam Malkin's while she tried on robes for her new job. I actually thought I had died. I think my heart really did stop beating, I was so bored."
"It was only twenty minutes, and the reason you waited was because those two witches were running in and out of the dressing room without bothering to close the door. I told you if you waited in the Quidditch store I'd stop by for you."
Ron shrugged again. "Anyway, I do hate shopping, so more power to you, mate, if you actually liked it."
"I did, except for the people following us around. Wait till you see the great rugs we bought. And we can eat up there now. Ginny picked out plates and stuff."
"We've never seen your flat," Hermione said.
"That's right! Come on!" Harry jumped up and they all followed him through the kitchen where Winky was busy at the sink and didn't look up, and into the vestibule. Harry opened the back door and stepped outside. "Here's where the Dark Mark was." He pointed above the door. Hermione looked at it, also around at the field behind the building, and pointed to Dervish and Banges at the top of the High Street.
"There's a clear view from there," she said. "Did you ask if they saw anything?"
"I didn't myself, but I assume Tony did. That would be an obvious place to start. I'll ask him."
Harry led them back inside and up to the flat. Nothing had been delivered from Diagon Alley, so Ginny described the rugs and the kitchenware they had bought. "All we need now is some furniture, easy chairs, a few end tables, and dressers for the bedroom." She smiled as Harry put the two photographs on the mantel.
Ron looked at Harry. "Dressers?" he emphasized the plural, but Harry didn't hear.
"Ginny is fabulous," he was saying. "I had no idea what to get or where to buy it. And everything is perfect! The Persian rug is five hundred years old, and it's beautiful. I can't wait to get it, it'll go right in there." He pointed through the open bedroom door, Ginny smiled again, and Ron looked at Hermione with a slight roll of his eyes.
"Don't you love domestic bliss?" he said. "Seriously, if Harry Potter has nothing to worry about except where to lay his rug, then all must be right with the world. Voldemort is truly dead."
"We were up at the castle today too," Ginny said. "It's all fixed. It's as good as new."
"They ought to put up a monument to all the house-elves who repaired it," Hermione said. "It shows how loyal they are."
"They showed that when they jumped the Death Eaters in the Great Hall," Ron said. "I think it's more than loyalty. I wonder if elves were the ones who built Hogwarts in the first place, the ones who did the actual work."
"I'm sure they were. They must have . . ."
Hermione stopped and looked at Harry and Ginny; Ron was watching them too. They had completely tuned out the conversation; Harry was holding Ginny's hand to his lips, and she was talking to him in a whisper while her hand caressed his face. They were oblivious to Ron and Hermione's stares. Ron pulled out his wand, conjured a small silver bell that floated above their heads and started it to ring.
For a moment nothing happened. Finally, the loving couple both glanced up at the tinkling sound, but only for a moment; they quickly went back to gazing at each other until Ron and Hermione started roaring with laughter.
"You two were completely alone there, weren't you?" Ron chortled. "Come on, lovers. We came here for dinner. You shouldn't keep your guests waiting. Winky is probably sulking because we're ignoring her."
They went downstairs to find that Winky had indeed finished preparing dinner. She pushed them into the dining room, where this time a table for four was set, again with white linen and silver service, including the candelabra. The chandeliers were blazing, and the whole room radiated light. The shutters were open, and they could see that the lights from inside lit up the dark lane in front of the inn. Harry peered out a window. He was smiling when he turned back. "It's exactly what I want. This place was so gloomy, but now look at it."
"It's lovely," said Hermione. "You did a perfect job."
Winky began serving, and soon the table was overflowing with a fried clam appetizer, salads, hot dinner rolls, and butterbeer. The main course was thick, juicy slices of roast beef and steamy baked potatoes with sautéed vegetables. Before she brought out dessert, Winky placed four blue bottles on the table and brought four glasses from the bar.
"Madam Rosmerta sends us this new drink," said the elf as corks flew out of the bottles. They tilted and their frothy red contents poured into the glasses. Harry took a sip.
"Mmm, delicious. What's it called?" He picked up a bottle and read the label. It showed a smiling young witch holding a glass of the same drink; she raised it to her lips, chugged it down, and winked. Above her picture, in bright red letters, were the words, "Potio Vitae—A Drink For Life."
"A couple of joints in Diagon Alley are selling it," Ron said as he also took a sip. "It's very popular, but I don't like it that much." Ginny agreed by making a face after she tasted it, but Hermione drank hers down.
"I like it," she said. "It's fruity but not too sweet."
"I guess it's not a Weasley thing," Harry said as he finished his. He leaned back in his chair. "I wonder what's for dessert?"
Ron also kicked back and put his hands behind his head. "So, Harry," he said, "are you keeping the name, or will you pick a different one?"
"I can't make up my mind. Even if I keep it, that sign is gone. I'm open to suggestions for a name and a new sign."
"How about Gin's Joint?" Ron said with a sideways glance at his sister.
"How about you try on some bat bogeys for a month." Ginny made a spell-casting motion with her finger.
"Don't you want your picture up over a door with hundreds of people going in and out?" Ron laughed. "You could be famous."
"Very funny, but no thanks. I've seen what happens when you're famous. If you want it, you can have it. We'll repaint the sign with your head on it instead of the pig's."
There was a loud crash of breaking glass and a large rock bounced off the bar onto the floor. Shards of glass flew across the room and they all ducked and covered their heads with their arms. Before anyone could move, a small brown object sailed through the broken window and landed with a soft thud on the floor near the table, almost under Ron's feet.
Harry jumped up, his wand in hand, and ran to the door. He flung it open. "Lumos!" he cried. In the flare of his wand he could see several figures running around the side of the inn.
"Out back!" he shouted to Ron, who was right behind him. Ron turned and ran to the kitchen door, followed by Hermione. Harry darted out front with Ginny at his heels, and they tore after the shadowy shapes. A loud bang and a flash of red filled the air. Someone screamed, and there were more red flashes. Harry came around back and saw the shadows running across the field. He sent a Stunning spell at them, but he swore as it flew high. A red flame shot over his shoulder and one of the figures flew through the air and crashed into a tree, hit the trunk and slid to the ground, motionless. The others disappeared across the field into the night.
"Nice!" Harry grinned at Ginny, whose wand was still pointing at the body.
They looked towards the back door. Hermione and Ron stood in the light from inside, their wands in their hands. Hermione's was now lit, illuminating a wide area behind the inn. Doors in nearby buildings opened, and people peeked out.
"I got one!" Ron called. "He's right here." He pointed to a form on the ground near the elm tree.
"Ginny, too," Harry said. "A good night for the Weasleys. Did you see how many got away?"
Ron and Hermione joined them, and they all looked down at the Stunned body of a young man. His clothes were rough and shabby, and he needed a shave; his boots were worn, with holes in the soles.
"I think there were two others, maybe three," Hermione said. "Does anyone recognize this one?" She pointed her wand at his face.
Harry looked closely, and turned to Ginny who was also bent over the man. She shook her head. "I don't think he was one of the blokes sitting with Southeby. What about the other one?"
"Wait here," Ron went back to the elm tree and Levitated the inert form; it floated towards the others, its arms and legs dangling, and Ron set it on the ground. He went through the pockets of both men, and pulled a wand from the one that Ginny had hit. "I don't think this one has a wand." He looked puzzled. "Did anyone see a wand lying around?"
"Maybe he's a Squib," Hermione said. "That would be strange, though, a Squib tagging along with wizards to do something like this."
Harry and Ginny had examined the second one, who was as scruffy as the first.
Ginny put her wand away. "Nope. Neither one was at The Three Broomsticks."
"What happened there?" Ron asked. Ginny told him about meeting Rosmerta, and Turquoise Southeby's performance.
"There were three men sitting with her, but not these," Ginny finished.
"Blimey, I'm surprised Rosmerta puts up with her."
"So what do we do now?" Ginny said. "Why don't we wake them up?"
"We should notify the Ministry," Hermione stated. "They committed a crime. Maybe they're the ones who made the Dark Mark."
They all looked at Harry; he had already decided to do that. Things were starting to get out of hand, and he wanted to resolve it all as quickly as possible. He glanced first at Ginny, who was watching him, frowning, and then back at their two captives. A surge of anger took him; he was not going to allow thugs like these to ruin this place he had made for him and Ginny.
"I'll go to the post office and send an owl. Someone should go inside and check out the dining room. And see if Winky is okay."
He went off at a trot up to the High Street, thinking about Hedwig. It only took a minute at the post office to write a note and hand it to the night clerk. "Got a helluva fast one all ready to go, Mr. Potter," the old witch said cheerfully. "He'll be back pretty damn quick too." Harry thanked her and headed back to the inn. He found the others still standing over the bodies, but Ron was holding something in his hands, and Harry recognized the brown lump that had been thrown through the window.
"It's a dead weasel," Ron said in a tense voice when he saw Harry. Ginny was looking off into the darkness, but when she turned he saw sadness and hurt in her eyes. His anger surged at the sight, and he turned to the inert forms on the ground and pulled out his wand.
Ginny grabbed his arm. "Harry, don't! You'll just get in trouble. Remember what you told me on the beach? Let the Aurors handle it. They'll be here soon."
Harry took a deep breath and walked off a few paces until his anger subsided. "I'm okay," he said after a moment, but through clenched teeth. He pointed his wand at the first man. "Petrificus totalus! Rennervate!" The man went rigid and his eyes opened, looking up blankly.
"He's Imperiused!" Harry exclaimed. He did the same to the other, who also looked around as though he was seeing nothing. "Dammit! These two are just stooges, we'll never learn anything from them." He looked at Hermione. "Can we lift the Curse?"
"Maybe," she said doubtfully. "I know it's possible, but it depends on how well the Curse was placed, and how good you are, if you want to lift it. But you can hurt them if you do it wrong. I think we should just let it wear off, or wait until someone from the Ministry gets here."
"Harry, look at this." Ron had been examining the dead weasel, turning it over and running his fingers through its fur. He now held the animal up, cupped in both hands. "There's no mark on it that I can see. Its eyes are open, but it doesn't look startled or frightened. I think someone used a Killing Curse on it."
For a moment they stood in silence. Harry looked at the Stunned bodies on the ground. "These two didn't do it, even if they're both wizards. They can't even keep themselves clean or patch their shoes. Someone else did it and gave it to them to toss into the inn, someone around here."
He looked at his friends, his inn, the captives, and the dead weasel. Ginny took his hand, but he wouldn't meet her eyes and pulled his hand away. She grabbed it back.
"Harry, we're all here with you. The Ministry can find out who put these two up to it. We have one of their wands, and they can also use Veritaserum—"
"They won't," Ron interrupted. "Kingsley banned it, at least until the Wizengamot decide what to do. He says it's wrong to force someone to talk."
"Well, that's great," Harry said. "These two get off because they're Imperiused and I get my inn destroyed. Wonderful."
"But Harry," Hermione spoke, "it's like Percy said when Greyback was killed. If you want justice, you have to apply it the same way to everyone, otherwise there's no justice for anyone."
"Spare me the lecture, Hermione. What's so wrong with making someone you know committed a crime tell the truth? I'm pissed off, can't you understand? I—we have plans, Ginny's party is in three days and—" He scowled down at the captives. "Ginny, I don't think I can go back to the Burrow tonight. I can't leave the inn alone."
Ginny eyes blazed. "I'm staying with you."
"Ginny! That's ridiculous, you can't—" Ron started but Harry cut him off.
"Ginny, you don't have to do that," he said, but Ginny ignored him and glared at her brother.
"Shut up, Ron. If you don't want to tell Mum and Dad that I won't be home, then I'll send an owl. But I'm staying with Harry."
Ron gave Harry a disgruntled look, while Harry shook his head. "Ginny, it's my problem."
She whirled on him, thrust her face to an inch of his, and started poking his chest with her finger, making a point with each stab. "Oh, so you did all this—" she waved her hand at the inn "—for me, as you've been telling me all day, and now you think you can pack me off home like a child? I just spent an afternoon helping you make a home here, which you told me was our home, but now it's your problem? I don't think so, Harry."
Harry had never been the object of an explosion of Ginny's temper. On the beach at Shell Cottage she had seethed and had spoken angrily, but without such righteous vehemence. He looked at her, chagrined.
"No, I didn't mean—Ginny!" She had turned her back on him; he grabbed her shoulder and spun her around, took her face in his hands and before she could speak again, kissed her. She slowly put her arms around him; Ron and Hermione looked at each other and Hermione giggled nervously.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, letting her face go. "Please stay with me?"
She peered up into his eyes. "I will always stay with you. Please never ask me to go away again."
"Never, I promise." He kissed her.
"Well, I'm glad that's settled," Ron grunted. "I'll just stop by the Burrow and announce that Ginny is spending the night at the Hog's Head Inn with Harry. If I only tell Dad, maybe I can be in Albania before he tells Mum. If I don't make it, you can bury me next to Fred."
The others laughed, although Ron didn't look like he thought he had made a joke. "She'll be fine, Ron," Ginny said. "We've talked about things."
"Easy for you to say, three hundred miles away."
There was a loud pop, and an Auror Apparated next to the inn. He was tall and lanky, with reddish-blond hair and a handsome face; he looked quite young. He peered around, taking in the two bodies on the ground and the four standing over them.
"Weasley," he said with a nod, and walked over to join them. "We got an owl at the office from Mr. Potter—" he nodded to Harry "—about a disturbance up here. Did these two do it?" He pointed to the figures on the ground. "Any wands?"
"Um, this is Pester," Ron mumbled to Harry, as he handed the wand to the Auror. "I mean, Auror Pester. Auror Morequest Pester, I mean. Uh, these are Hermione Granger and my sister, Ginny. I mean, this is Hermione and this is Ginny. Uh . . ." He stopped his fumbling and turned red. The Auror shook his head.
"What happened, Potter? What kind of disturbance? Your owl mentioned a broken window. Was that all?" He spoke brusquely, almost as if he was bored, and looked at Harry.
Harry was taken aback by Pester's patronizing attitude. "Well, yeah, but—"
"And what is that?" The Auror indicated the dead weasel cradled in Ron's hands.
Ron plucked up some courage. "It's a weasel, a dead weasel. They threw it into the inn after they broke the window. I think it was killed with an Avada Kedavra."
This got the Auror's attention. "Let me see that," he said, still brusquely but no longer bored. He took the weasel, examined it, then stuffed the carcass into a leather sack which he took from a pocket, and hung it from a hook on his belt.
"What are you going to do with it?" Ginny asked.
"Sometimes you can trace the wand from the spell. But Unforgivables do no physical damage, and the Killing Curse leaves no magical trace, so it's not likely we'll find anything. But we'll try. So tell me, Miss Weasley," he said without pausing, "have you heard from Elizabeth Derby's uncles?"
Ginny glared at Pester. Harry wondered if the Auror saw the danger in her eyes, and hoped Ginny would keep her cool. As Ginny hesitated, he held his breath, Hermione looked alarmed, and Ron gritted his teeth with a scowl. "If I do, I'll let your boss know right away," she said steadily. "I wouldn't want to add to your heavy workload." Her eyes went to the sack at his belt.
Pester's eyes flicked from her to Harry and back. "That's considerate of you," he said with a sardonic smile. He turned to Harry. "May I see where this all happened? Weasley, stay here with these two." He indicated the prisoners. Ron looked at Harry and Hermione in disbelief and started to protest, but Pester had already turned away.
Without a word, Harry led the Auror through the back door and into the kitchen. He heard Ginny following, and smiled to himself. Don't mess with Weasley women, he thought. Some of them only skewer you, but some of them kill.
Winky wasn't in the kitchen. They found her standing in the middle of the dining room armed with her trusty ladle. Pester went to the broken window and peered through it. After a moment he took out his wand and walked around the room, gesturing at the walls and the floor and muttering incantations. Harry and Ginny glanced at each other; neither one recognized any of the spells. The Auror touched the rock lying on the floor with his wand, and it briefly glowed yellow; he picked it up, put it in his pocket and kept walking. Finally he stopped in front of Winky.
"Where was the elf when this happened?" he asked Harry.
"She had nothing to do with it. She's my house-elf."
"That's obvious, Potter. She's not a suspect. Sometimes elves see things that people don't." He looked disdainfully at Harry.
"Oh. Sorry. She was in the kitchen." Harry felt Ginny behind him, and wished he had been as quick-witted with the Auror's arrogance as she was. He glanced at her and she touched his hand.
Pester went outside, leaving the door open behind him. Harry started to follow, but had to take out his wand and put up a repellent spell when a small cloud of moths and other insects flew into the room towards the chandeliers. When the Auror came back through the departing bugs he waved his hand at them, but left the door open. Harry scowled and flicked his wand at the door, which slammed shut. Pester ignored it and waved his own wand at the shards of glass that still littered the floor. "Reparo," he said offhandedly, and the pieces of glass floated back to the window and formed a new pane in the empty frame.
"That's it, then," he said. "You'll get a copy of my report. I'm taking the prisoners." Without another word he went back into the kitchen; Harry and Ginny had to scramble to follow. He went outside to the two captives, not looking at Ron or Hermione, grasped the men by their arms, and all three disappeared.
"What an arrogant twit!" said Ginny. "How does someone like that get to be an Auror?"
Ron barked a short laugh. "Despite his personality. He's one of the best, otherwise he'd be sleeping on a vent in Diagon Alley. Everyone hates him."
"I've heard of him," Hermione said. "They say he worked at the Institute for a few months but nobody could stand him."
"One thing about him, though," Ron added, "he's Muggle-born, and they say that when the Death Eaters took over, some of them wanted to arrest him right away, but Riddle himself wanted to keep him. They say he told Thicknesse to shove his wand up his digestive tract and walked out."
"How come he knows you?" Harry asked.
"The Auror training program. He runs it."
"Well, there's an incentive not to sign up," Harry grunted. "The next time Kingsley asks me to join, I'll tell him Mr. Pester thinks I'm too stupid."
They trooped back inside, where Winky was cleaning up in the kitchen. "Is they wanting dessert?" she squeaked.
Harry looked at the others. "Not tonight. I'm sorry, Winky. It's late." She shrugged and went back to scrubbing the counters.
"Yeah, we need to be going," Ron said. "Uh, Ginny, should I tell Mum and Dad when you'll be home?"
"Before noon." She looked at Harry and he nodded. "And thanks, Ron. I owe you."
"You sure do." He took Hermione's arm, they both waved and Disapparated.
"I'd better check the dining room," Harry said, feeling strangely nervous now that Ron and Hermione were gone. Ginny, too, seemed jumpy. They went to the dining room and Harry strode from window to window, flicking his wand and closing the shutters. He sealed each one and the door. "That'll keep thugs out, at least. We'll have to tell Winky not to sleep outside." He lit his wand and extinguished all the candles.
They went back to the kitchen, but Winky was not in sight. They poked around and finally found her curled up inside a small cupboard near the fireplace, snoring quietly on a blanket and pillow. They tip-toed out of the kitchen into the vestibule; Harry sealed the back door, and, with his wand still lit, led Ginny up the stairs. Inside the parlor they looked at each other.
"I don't know why I'm nervous," Ginny giggled. "Let's sit for a bit."
When they walked around the love seat, Ginny gave a squeal. "The rug! It's here!"
The red shag was on the floor between the hearth and the love seat. Ginny took off her shoes and socks and stepped onto it and wiggled her toes in the plush pile. "Ooh, this is nice. Hey, I wonder if the kitchen things came too." She went into the kitchen with Harry right behind and opened a drawer. "It's all here! We can eat up here tomorrow morning." She looked at Harry. "Let's see if the other rug came."
"Yes, let's." He took her hand and they crossed the parlor to the bedroom. Harry held up his wand, pushed the door open and they looked in. The Persian rug was on the floor, covering most of it, a perfect complement to the four-poster.
Ginny started to walk into the room, but Harry held back. "I thought you wanted to sit for a while."
Ginny came back, put her arms around him and pulled him into the bedroom. "No, you must have mis-heard me."
"I must have." He kissed her. "Um, we don't have pajamas. Do you want me to conjure up a pair for you?"
Ginny kissed him back. "That's a terrible idea." As they kissed again, they both reached out at the same time and pushed the door closed. Tonight there would be no Dark Marks, no broken glass or dead animals, no world. Tonight would be only the bed and themselves.