Chapter Nineteen
The Weasley Alliance
Ron was lying on his bed, staring angrily up at the ceiling. After all this time, Hermione had betrayed him. He'd been dating her for about seven months now, and he'd been her friend for over six years, and yet she'd been keeping secrets and she'd actually done… done… something with Snape! Snape, the greasy git! How could she?
Ron heard the door opening and closing, but he didn't bother calling out a hello. He just prayed it wasn't Harry or Ginny trying to talk to him again; he wanted to strangle them both. That they'd been in on it was almost as bad as Hermione doing it. They were supposed to be a team, Harry-Ron-and-Hermione, but no…
"Hey, Ron, you in here? We want to talk to you!"
"Fred?" Ron asked, surprised. "What do you want?"
"To talk to you, pay attention already," George said, pulling back the hangings around Ron's bed.
"About what?" Ron said viciously, annoyed. He wasn't about to just grit his teeth and forgive his friends for this one. Ginny had known before him, for crying out loud!
"Well," Fred said slowly, "we figure we can help you… you know, get revenge."
Ron stopped, swallowing an angry rant about how he wasn't apologizing for being kept out of the loop. He had assumed the twins either wouldn't get involved or would take Harry, Ginny and Hermione's side; they were closer to Ginny than to Ron.
"Why?" Ron asked suspiciously as the twins sat down on his bed.
"Well," Fred said slowly, "we, er, feel sort of bad about Pig and all."
"And it was really rude of Hermione to hit us with mashed potatoes," George added, brushing at some white gunk stuck to his forehead.
"Mione hit you with mashed potatoes?" Ron repeated, bewildered.
"Oh, that's right, you left the hall… don't worry, we'll send you loads of pictures," Fred assured him.
"Yeah, as soon as Fred's finished making a collage to wallpaper his room with—ow! Hey, that wasn't very nice!" George rubbed his arm where Fred had punched it.
"Isn't that Colin's camera?" Ron asked, looking at the camera around George's neck.
"Yeah, we're borrowing it. With permission, for a change."
"Why?"
"Um… you kind of missed the fight of the century, really," Fred said. "Getting back to the point, though—we figure it's time we trained you to follow in our footsteps."
"Meaning?" Ron asked nervously.
"The prank war, Ron, how thick can you be?" Fred exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. "When was the last time you guys pulled a decent prank, eh? Well, now that you're angry with Harry and Hermione and Ginny, it's time for you to strike out on your own, little brother!"
"What have you two got against Harry, Hermione, and Ginny?" Ron wanted to know, confused.
"Come on, Ron, all those times we tortured you just for the hell of it, and you think we've got something against them?" George said, shaking his head sadly. He looked at his twin. "You were right, Fred, we've neglected the kid's teachings for too long."
"Poor Ron," Fred said with a heavy sigh. "Listen, Ronniekins, it's not about what you've got against them. It's about fun! …Although Hermione never did sleep with me in the library like she asked me to, come to think of it."
"Fred's been really disappointed about that," George agreed, ignoring Ron's glare.
"Yeah," Fred said with another sigh and a faked sniffle. "Anyway… Lesson Number One, everyone is fair game. Your friends, your family, your professors, everyone."
"Lesson Number Two," George said, "don't get caught. Which bring us to—"
"Lesson Number Three," Fred continued, "plan carefully."
"Lesson Number Four, always have alibis, backup plans, and escape routes ready."
"Lesson Number Five—"
"I get the point, guys," Ron interrupted. "Do you have an idea, or not?"
"No, you have an idea, we're here to give you motivation and support," Fred told him, as though this should be obvious. "That's what brothers do."
"What do you mean, 'I have an idea?' I don't have an idea. I haven't even been thinking about it."
"Oh, but you do have an idea, little brother," George said mischievously. "You have a thousand ideas. You've had them for ages. Things from us, things from Sirius and Remus, things you've managed to think up all by yourself."
Ron's eyes widened. He did have ideas, ways to get back at his best friend and his girlfriend and his sister… not to mention at Malfoy. None of them would suspect him, either… not for a while, at least… and then, finally, Ron could prove he was just as good as any of them.
Ron grinned. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."
Ginny was on her way to Gryffindor tower, hoping that no one had gotten caught (and that Harry's head injury wasn't too bad) when one foot landed in a puddle of water and the other landed on a pork chop.
"Found them," Ginny muttered. She crept carefully closer to the prefects' bathroom, trying not to slip; it looked like the sort of mess Moaning Myrtle would create. She could hear laughter, and Harry and Hermione talking; she pressed her ear to the door to listen.
"Oh, shut up, Malfoy!" Hermione was saying irritably as Malfoy's laughter faded to choked gasps. "Get out of the tub, will you? I want to get out of here."
Ginny smiled, wondering just what had happened, and knocked on the door. "It's me, guys!" she called, and then said the password to open the door.
She stared around at them; the scene was even stranger than when Ginny had walked into Hermione's room to find Harry straddling Hermione and Draco lying next to them. Hermione was toweling off her hair and wearing Oliver's robe, which was enormous on her. Draco, who was obviously quite naked, was clutching the side of the tub, his face bright red with silent laughter. Harry was fully clothed, save for his shoes, and was dripping with water, his glasses slightly askew. Oliver was simply standing by, looking tired and amused.
Ginny shot a questioning look at Hermione, who sighed. "I'll tell you later, Gin," she said. "How did it go with the teachers?"
"They're only just leaving the dungeons," Ginny reported proudly. "Took the lot of them a good deal of time to figure out what I'd done to myself. We need to get back to the dormitory, though; they'll be heading up here soon, and I don't think you want to have to explain this mess… at least, to them, anyway, otherwise it'll make a great story. What happened with Malfoy? Someone hit him with a Cheering Charm?"
"If only that had been the case," Hermione said dryly. "Come on, Malfoy, we've got to get moving! We're going to get caught!"
It took them a good long time to get Draco going; by the time he was out of the tub, Hermione had thrown on the mismatched clothes Dobby had brought and Ginny had fixed her hair. Just as Draco was starting to get dry, they heard a loud meow in the hallway outside.
"Uh-oh," Ginny said worriedly, and opened the hallway to reveal Mrs. Norris, who gave Ginny the most evil look a cat could give and whisked off. "It's Mrs. Norris! She's going for Filch!"
"Run!" Oliver hissed, shrugging his now-slightly-damp robes back on. "You guys go, I'll make something up!"
"Thanks!" the three Gryffindors called as they dashed towards Gryffindor tower, Draco in tow.
"So you apologized to Ginny?" Seamus was saying to Dean as the two of them sat in the common room with Lavender and Parvati. Seamus and Dean were playing chess in an attempt to drown out the incessant gossip the girls were indulging in.
"Yeah," Dean said glumly. "She won't take me back, but I don't think I'll have to worry about one of her friends or her brothers trying to kill me in my sleep."
Seamus chuckled. "Move on, mate. There are plenty of other fish in the sea."
"There had better not be for you!" Lavender, Seamus's girlfriend, cut in.
"There aren't," Seamus said quickly.
"You're so whipped," Dean said, rolling his eyes.
"Am not," Seamus retorted.
"Are too."
"Well, at least I'm not still mooning over some sixth year I broke up with over a year ago," Seamus shot back.
"Hey, you try dating her for a few months and then talk to me about how hard she is to get over," Dean said sadly. "Ginny is—" Dean stopped hurriedly, staring at the portrait hole; Seamus looked over to see Ginny climbing through it, holding an armful of clothing.
"Come on, you guys," Ginny whispered, motioning for someone to follow her into the room. "Before the whole common room's staring!"
Seamus immediately nudged Lavender to get her attention, and the four Gryffindors turned to watch with interest. Several other people were looking at Ginny curiously.
After a few moments, Harry climbed through the hole behind Ginny, thoroughly soaked and aiming a wand at his hair to blow it dry; half of his hair was sticking up much more than usual as a result, while the rest lay flat on his head. Behind Harry came Hermione, dressed as if her closet had exploded on her. She was wearing a bright red swimsuit under a pair of jeans and an open purple blouse. On one foot was a dark green sock, and on the other was an orange one with little black cats on it; both socks clashed horribly with her pink high heels.
If Hermione was dressed strangely, however, it was nothing compared to what Draco Malfoy was wearing—a Gryffindor-scarlet bath towel.
Only a Gryffindor-scarlet bath towel.
Everyone in the common room started laughing; Draco shot an annoyed glare around the common room and clutched the towel tighter around his waist.
Harry grinned. "Hey, Malfoy—what was that password again? I can't remem—"
"LOVE AND BUNNIES!" Draco shouted angrily at the wall, which quickly opened.
Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati watched as the strange (in more ways than one) group disappeared behind the wall to the guest quarters. "Oh, man," Parvati gasped through her laughter, clutching her sides. "We have got to figure out just what is going on with them!"
I can explain, Oliver thought to himself, trying to come up with a good reason why the fourth floor was flooded as he stood outside the prefects' bathroom, one hand holding up his robes and the other holding his shoes and socks. No, "I can explain" sounds like I'm the one who did it… damn, what do I say? "I didn't see who did it?" No, my robes are damp and my shoes aren't, they'll figure that out… should I blame it on a Slytherin? No, they've all been shut in the dungeons…
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of McGonagall's voice, which floated up to him from the third floor. "You're sure they're still in the bathroom, Macmillan?" she barked.
"They were when I went to get you. I could hear voices, but I couldn't tell who it was," answered Ernie Macmillan. Oliver groaned; Macmillan had become a total dictator since making prefect, never mind Head Boy.
"I appreciate your coming to get me, Macmillan," McGonagall said, her tone icy. "Maybe stricter punishments will put an end to all this prank war nonsense."
Oliver grimaced. If there was one person he didn't want to have to deal with, it was McGonagall. She had no patience for rule-breaking and she would know instantly that Oliver was covering up for Harry. In other words, Oliver was about to die.
For the fourth time in two days, Oliver turned tail and ran.
Draco immediately seized his clean clothes from Ginny and stomped into the bathroom they moment they entered, while Ginny and Hermione argued over which clothes Hermione should change into, Hermione standing outside the bathroom door. When Hermione was finally dressed in something normal-looking, Ginny went to go grab some dry clothes for Harry, then decided to haul his entire trunk down to the guest room, mad as Ron was at them all.
"Strangest thing," Ginny said, frowning as Harry sorted through his trunk, "Fred and George are talking to Ron, and they all seemed really cheerful, but Ron still glared at me when he saw me."
"Hmm," Hermione said, filing that information away for later, busy as she was with looking up a spell to clean the shoes she'd been wearing during the food fight.
When Draco emerged from the bathroom, everyone avoiding speaking to him or looking at him, which was fine by him. He sat down on his bed, Harry, Hermione and Ginny sat on hers, and each side took to ignoring the other. Harry, Hermione and Ginny spent some time looking up decent curses and wards to place on Harry and Hermione's trunks, which made Draco roll his eyes, as he really didn't give a damn about their belongings.
"I'm sure Ron will come around," they kept assuring each other, and fell into a light, easy conversation, nearly forgetting Draco's presence.
Finally, however, Draco stood up, reminding them all of his existence. "It's dinnertime," he said coldly, "let's go."
"I'm not going to dinner!" Hermione told him. "I'm skipping my meals for the next few months, thank you very much."
"My mum's down there, or I wouldn't be going," Draco snapped. "I've got to go see her."
"I don't care who's down there, I—"
"Come on, guys, let's not argue!" Harry said wearily. "I've had enough of theatrics for one day. Why don't we go down there, and one of us can ask Malfoy's mum to come out to the entrance hall, and they can talk and hug and whatever, and then we'll go down to the kitchens for dinner, all right?"
"Are you… compromising… with Malfoy?" Hermione demanded in shock.
"Hermione," Harry said, raising an eyebrow at her, "in the past two days, I've been petrified for half the night, I've flown on Malfoy Airlines, I've had Ron get pissed at me twice, I nearly got killed by you—and a coconut, I might add—and most recently I tried to rescue you from drowning only to have to walk into the common room with Malfoy while he's wrapped in a towel. I'm not having one more problem today, understand? I can't take it. And considering I've had a better weekend than you, I hope you can agree."
Hermione bit her lip and turned to look at Draco, who shrugged. "Fine," Hermione grumbled.
Ginny was given the task of entering the Great Hall for them, and reemerged soon after with Narcissa Malfoy. "What's all the fuss about, Draco?" Narcissa asked, confused.
"Oh… I… didn't feel like going in the hall," Draco said. "I…"
"Ah! Mrs. Malfoy!" called a new voice, and they all turned to see Dumbledore coming through the front doors. "How are you?"
"Fine, Albus, and yourself?" she said pleasantly.
"Good, good—it is a relief to see another Death Eater captured," he said. "Mulciber is now serving a life sentence in Azkaban once more."
"A relief indeed!" Narcissa exclaimed. "Oh, I'm so glad that horrible man is no longer free…"
"You are?" Harry said, frowning.
"Of course I am, aren't you?" Narcissa said, looking startled. She shook her head and turned back to Dumbledore. "Albus, while we're all here, I wanted to discuss the matter of this… chain, if you please?"
"Of course," Dumbledore said, "why don't you all accompany to my office?"
Rather nervous about the coming talk (in other words, they were worried about how badly Draco's mother, the widow of Voldemort's right hand man and a woman who still had a lot of connections in the Ministry, was going to pitch a fit), Harry, Ginny and Hermione followed Dumbledore up to the headmaster's office, where they sat down in comfortable, conjured chintz armchairs.
"I'm glad you got all that mess off, Draco," Narcissa said as they took their chairs. "I was quite worried that mustard would stain."
All four students shot Dumbledore a worried look, hoping he wouldn't comment or punish them for their actions. Dumbledore simply gave them a knowing smile, choosing not to comment.
"First of all," Dumbledore said, "the research into this matter is going splendid. We hope to have a solution soon… but I do not believe it will be before the Christmas holidays."
"Professor," Hermione said tentatively, "I… I promised my parents I would make it home for Christmas this year. I haven't seen them for Christmas since my first year, and my entire family's meeting at my grandparents' home this year on Christmas Day, all of my cousins and aunts and uncles—and I planned to spend Christmas Eve with the… um… in London," she amended hastily, not wanting to mention the Order in front of the Malfoys.
"Hey, what about my Christmas?" Draco said angrily. "I've been planning to spend it with Mum—"
Hermione bit her lip, not wanting to argue in front of the headmaster and Narcissa. "Er," she said, turning to Dumbledore, "what do you think, professor?"
"Well," Dumbledore said slowly, "what time is your family gathering, Miss Granger?"
"We've agreed to meet at eleven, and we'll probably stay until late afternoon."
"In that case," Dumbledore said, "why don't I talk to the Order and see if we can't reschedule our celebration for Christmas Day, in the evening? Mr. Malfoy can accompany you to both get-togethers, and you can accompany him to Malfoy Manor on Christmas Eve."
Hermione stared at him in horror. "T-take him to my family for Christmas?" she spluttered. "But… but they're Muggles, professor—"
"Well, if you'd rather call the whole thing off…" Draco began with a smirk.
"I believe Mr. Malfoy has taken Muggle Studies," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Would that suit you, Narcissa?" he added, turning to her.
She nodded. "We can make arrangements, yes," she said.
"Wait… how will I get there?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I can't take the Knight Bus to my grandparents' house… I was going to take the Bus home from London and then my parents and I were going to ride together…"
Dumbledore thought for a moment. "I'm sure we can find a solution to the transportation problem," he said. "It may take some time, however."
"Professor," Ginny spoke up, "what about the rest of the holidays? Where will they spend the remaining time?"
"I'll let Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger work that out," Dumbledore said. "Though I strongly recommend spending that time either with the Order or at Hogwarts. Tell me your decision by the end of the week; I should have a solution to the transportation problem by then. Now, I believe the only item left to discuss is your detention, Harry—"
"Detention? For what?" Harry said blankly.
"For flying Malfoy Airlines," Hermione said, giving him a significant look.
"That young man stole Draco's broomstick?" Narcissa said in shock.
"No, no, Mum…" Draco said, biting his lip. He knew his mother well enough to know that if she knew Harry had blown up Draco's head, she'd want all the details as to why. "Don't worry about it; it's just an expression."
Dumbledore smiled. "Usually, I would have asked Mr. Filch to assign you a detention, Harry, but as Severus fell behind in the production of Pepper-Up Potion, we'll have to wait until Mr. Filch is feeling a tad better. Severus has agreed to oversee your detention, Harry, and we've set it for Thursday."
"Okay, then," Harry said. "Er… I'm really sorry about that, professor."
"One cannot always control one's emotions," Dumbledore reminded him with another smile.
"Got that right," Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Draco muttered in unison.
Dumbledore chuckled. "I trust you are all using this opportunity to work out your differences?"
It didn't take a genius to see that all four students were desperately trying not to laugh.
"Er… we're trying, professor," Harry lied.
"Right," Dumbledore said. "Well, if there is nothing more to discuss, I have a lot of work to do…"
"Thank you for your time, Albus," Narcissa said, standing up.
Harry, Hermione and Ginny turned to follow Draco and Narcissa from the room, but Draco stopped halfway to the door.
"Professor," Draco said slowly, "I heard it was Nymphadora Tonks who captured Mulciber and… is…is she all right?"
"She is fine," Dumbledore assured him. "She is, in fact, receiving a promotion, as this is the fifth Death Eater she has brought to justice."
"Thanks," Draco said, his expression unreadable. Harry and Hermione exchanged glances, wondering just what his interest in Tonks was; they doubted it was anything very wholesome. Tonks was the one who had killed Lucius Malfoy.
Harry and Hermione looked at Ginny, who nodded; the three of them all made mental notes to talk about it as soon as they could get some time without Draco around.
They went back down to dinner; Narcissa and Draco said their goodbyes in the entrance hall, and Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Draco detoured down to the kitchens once they were certain Narcissa was gone.
The moment Narcissa was out of earshot, Hermione exploded. "I can't believe I have to take HIM to meet my family! They'll be all… all… weird! And Malfoy! Ha! He'll get some good home cooking this time! One wrong move and it's grandpa's old shotgun for him!"
"Hermione, you're not making sense," Ginny said gently.
"Sure she is," Harry said. "She just said she doesn't want to take Malfoy anywhere, and her family's going to think it's odd she's bringing a guy home for Christmas—especially when she's probably told some of them she hates said guy—and then she said that if he does anything, she'll throw her grandmother's cooking at him before killing him in the messy Muggle way."
"Oh, okay," Ginny said, grinning. "As long as she has a plan."