Chapter 25
HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS
On the next day, the first day of the Christmas break, many students awoke early to prepare for the 11 a.m. trip from Hogwarts to King's Cross Station in London on the Hogwarts Express for Christmas break.
Harry awakened early himself, just before dawn. Disoriented, he tried to remember the last thing he'd thought of before going to sleep. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he realized that he'd once again gone to sleep with his clothes on. In the other beds he could hear Dean and Ron's snoring, and even without his glasses, in the dim pre-morning light, he could just discern Seamus and Neville's forms under their covers.
Harry sat up on the edge of the bed, remembering why he'd gone to sleep so early yesterday. There'd been so many things to think about that he didn't want to think about any of them. Even his long sleep hadn't done much to change that, Harry reflected glumly. Getting to his feet, he padded down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, intending to sit in solitude until the rest of the school woke up and he could get ready to take a much-needed break from school.
However, upon reaching the base of the boys' staircase, Harry saw that there was still a lone figure curled up in one of the large padded chairs near the fireplace, reading by the light of a single lamp nearby. Harry thought he recognized the top of the bushy brown head of hair; he walked slowly toward the chair until he saw that, indeed, it was Hermione Granger.
"Hermione," Harry said in a low voice. Hermione jumped, dropping the book she held in her lap and putting her hand over her heart.
"Oh!" she squeaked. "You startled me!"
"Sorry," Harry said, sitting in the chair beside her. "What are you doing up so late. Or so early, rather," he amended.
"I couldn't sleep," she said, taking up her book again and turning to the page she'd been looking at. After a few moments, however, she put it down again and looked at Harry accusingly. "I've been waiting for you, Harry. What do you mean going off like that and then coming back and just going to sleep like you'd been round to the candy store?"
"What did Ron tell you?" Harry asked warily.
"Nothing! He said you wanted to tell me! I've been worried sick, waiting to hear what happened!"
"Look, I'm sorry," Harry said defensively. "I thought I'd fall asleep for an hour or so then be up for dinner. I didn't think I'd sleep through the entire night!"
"All right, then." Hermione shut her book and tossed it silently on a nearby table. "So spill it – what happened?" Her voice lowered until it was barely audible. "Did you find out where the Helm of Gryffindor is?"
Harry sighed. There was no help for it. He told her what he'd told Ron, though in trying to downplay some of the less heartening details the story lost much of its humor.
"So Malfoy probably knows that at least you and Ron were at Azkaban," Hermione said after Harry had finished.
"Probably," Harry conceded.
"And Snape?"
"I think I fooled him," Harry said, wondering if she'd caught the significance of what he'd achieved in that. "But only time will tell.""Time is a luxury we're in short supply of," Hermione said seriously. "We don't even know how much we have before the 'great upheaval' Bane spoke of catches up with us!"
"I know that!" With an effort, Harry tried to calm down. "But what else can we do, Hermione? Lucius Malfoy knows where the Helm is – I can feel it! But he wouldn't even tell Draco, his only son, where it was, except to say it was someplace safe. It was just dumb luck I got past those wizards at Azkaban, too. If I'd gone in there without Malfoy's wand they would have caught me for sure."
"Who did Malfoy say knew about the Helm?" Hermione asked.
"He said that only he, Draco, and Crabbe's father knew about it," Harry replied. "And he thought Snape knew as well."
"Do you think," Hermione asked shrewdly, "Any of them know it's a Horcrux?"
That question gave Harry pause. He'd been unconsciously assuming that at least Snape, as a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a master in Defense of the Dark Arts, would know. But if Snape knew, he would have told Voldemort about the ring Dumbledore destroyed. If Voldemort knew his Horcruxes were being destroyed, he would probably be a lot more aggressive in protecting them than they'd seen. Instead, however, Voldemort seemed to have actually disappeared from the face of the earth; they'd heard of no more attacks, no more deaths, since his supposed defeat.
"I don't know," Harry said finally. "Snape might, but Dumbledore didn't think Lucius Malfoy understood that Tom Riddle's diary was one; if he'd known it was a key to bringing back his master, he probably wouldn't have hidden it with Ginny's books back when we met in Flourish and Blotts.
"And from what Malfoy said to Draco, he doesn't think Draco's ready to hear about the Darkest parts of magic yet, so even if he does know of Horcruxes, he's not ready to share that with his son right now.
"And, if any of the other Death Eaters knew of Horcruxes," Harry continued. "Which Dumbledore doubted, Voldemort probably hasn't let them in on his secret, that he's created not just one, but six of them to keep his soul bound to the earth."
Hermione nodded. "Those are my conclusions as well. But we have to figure out how we can use that to our advantage."
They talked until well into the morning, about the Prophecies (including the one Harry heard about Wormtail and the one Ginny heard about the "Chosen One"); about Bane and Firenze's "upheaval" in the heavens, and what Lucius Malfoy might consider a "safe place" to hide something like the Helm of Gryffindor, even if he didn't know it was a Horcrux. The cave where Harry and Dumbledore found the false Horcrux had almost been insurmountable. If Harry hadn't been along Dumbledore probably would have failed to retrieve it – Dumbledore had said so himself as well. They would have to assume that the other Horcruxes were equally well defended, with the exception of Nagini, who would naturally be with Voldemort himself.
Soon enough, however, students were coming and going through the common room, in preparation for breakfast and the trip to King's Cross. Harry and Hermione went to their separate dormitories to pack a kit for the trip; both of them, as well as Jon, had been invited to stay at the Burrow during the Christmas break.
In the Great Hall at breakfast, Harry, Ron and Jon were all piling food onto their plates, a big breakfast to last them into the evening. Each had scooped sausages and strips of bacon onto their plates along with piles of scrambled eggs as well as kippers (except for Jon, who refused to eat them). There were mounds of biscuits and pitchers of milk and pumpkin juice. Hermione and Ginny both viewed this orgy of gastronomic pleasure with trepidation and disgust.
"You're all going to blow up," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose at the three of them, "or worse, you're going to be impossible to be around tomorrow!"
"And what's your point?" Ron asked with an innocent look as he shoveled in a mouthful of eggs and washed it down with large gulps of milk.
Harry, looking toward the front of the Great Hall, noticed Tonks sitting alone on the side of the room nearest the Gryffindors, picking at her plate. Harry hadn't had many chances to talk to her during the year so far, but he was glad to see her there; she'd left so quickly after class on Friday he hadn't had a chance to talk to her.
Harry walked up to the High Table, nodding to Professor Flitwick, who was sitting several chairs away. Flitwick gave a cheery wave and Harry smiled briefly in return. "Hi, Tonks," he said.
"Wotcher, Harry," Tonks replied happily. "Ready for Christmas and the holidays?"
"Oh, yes," Harry said, with feeling. "How about you?"
"I'm ready for a break," Tonks said, "but I'll probably spend more time grading essays than opening presents."
"Well, er –" Harry looked a bit uncomfortable, but pulled a small, gift-wrapped box out of his robe. "— speaking of that – er, giving presents, that is, I – I got you something," he finished, putting the box down in front of her.
She looked at it for the longest time – so long, in fact, that Harry wondered if she would refuse it – he wasn't sure if there wasn't some sort of rule about students giving teachers gifts – but when she looked up at him her face was radiant.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, positively beaming as she picked up the box. "A present, for me! How thoughtful of you!"
"Thanks," Harry said, looking around surreptitiously; he hadn't quite expected her response to be so enthusiastic. Several students sitting nearby at the other tables were looking their way. "I just remembered the present you got me a couple of years ago…"
"I remember," she said, giving the box a shake. "A model of a Firebolt." She shook the box again, listening carefully.
"Um," Harry said, pointing to the box. "You can open it, if you like."
"Now?" she said, her eyebrows lifting. "What, should I spoil the surprise?" Harry shrugged noncommittally.
"You talked me into it," she said, ripping open the shining paper to reveal a small, unmarked box. Opening it, she reached in and pulled out the object inside. It was a pin, the image of a dark blue badger on a golden badge with the words "Hufflepuff Badger Patrol" engraved along the top and bottom of the badge. Tonks chuckled and looked at Harry shrewdly.
"Thank you, Harry," she said, giving him a small bow. "How did you find out I was in Hufflepuff?"
"I asked Professor McGonagall once when I was thinking about becoming an Auror," Harry replied. "Do you like it?"
"Well, yes, I do, actually," Tonks said, looking at it again. "I'm just surprised you actually found one of these."
"What d'you mean?" Harry said, confused. "I just thought you might like it because it's a Hufflepuff pin."
"Well, when I was at Hogwarts," Tonks said, sitting back and examining the pin idly as she spoke, "there was a group of girls in Hufflepuff who started calling themselves 'the Badgers,' a very exclusive little clique. Every year they'd pick two or three fourth-year girls to join their club. One of these –" she held up the pin "– was the badge they received for getting into the club."
"Oh," Harry said, disappointed. "So you've already got one, then?"
Tonks snorted laughter. "Oh, Merlin's beard, no! No, they wouldn't have the likes of me in their club. I was a bit too, well, 'unconventional' for their tastes."
"Did you want to be in the club?" Harry asked, sensing a bit of envy in Tonks' voice.
She shrugged, waving a hand airily, as if dismissing the notion. "Not really, they were all a bunch of snotty – well, witches, I'll just say. But I always did like these pins, even if I didn't care too much for any of the girls wearing them." She stood. "So thank you, Harry, for getting me one of these." She gave him a quick hug which left him a bit more breathless than he expected.
"I'd better get packing," she said, stepping away from him. "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "I'm staying at the Burrow."
"Figured as much. Oh, by the way –" She turned, kicking the chair accidentally. "– Ouch! – where'd you come by this, anyway?" she winced, trying to hold up the pin and rub her bruised toe at the same time.
"Umm – you know, I don't really remember," Harry said, rubbing his chin pensively. "I've had it for a while – this just seemed like a good chance to give it to you."
"Well, thanks again," Tonks smiled at him. "If I don't see you before then, Happy Christmas, Harry," she waved goodbye and walked out the door on the east wall near the High Table.
Harry walked back toward where Hermione and Ron were sitting, but he noticed as he did so that some students at other tables were pointing toward him and whispering. One boy at the Ravenclaw table, looking at Harry, put his fist in front of his nose and twisted it in an unmistakable gesture. Even Dean, as Harry passed him at the Gryffindor table, grinned at him and gave a thumbs-up.
Harry rejoined Ron and Hermione, who leaned forward and looked at him with a strange expression on her face. "Did you just give Tonks a present?" she said wonderingly.
"Yeah," said Harry, trying not to sound defensive. "So?"
"Am I going to have to break the bad news to Ginny?" Ron said with mock sorrow.
"Oh, get off," Harry said, irritated. "I had a present for her for Christmas and I gave it to her. End of story."
Harry ended up enduring more ribbing about Tonks from Ron and his other Gryffindor roommates until they were aboard the Hogwarts Express and he, Ron, Hermione and Jon, who'd joined them on the platform at Hogsmeade station were in a compartment together. Jon, who hadn't been in the Great Hall when Harry had been talking to Tonks, listened to Ron retell the story while Harry listened stonily.
"Tonks is hot," Jon said, with a smile, after Ron had finished. "But from what I understand she likes older men."
"She and Remus Lupin are a couple right now," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Most of the other students don't know that," she said, emphasizing the last words to Ron. "Which is why they don't know better than to give Harry a hard time for giving her a Christmas present."
Giving Jon a calculating look, Hermione said casually, "How are you and Deirdre doing, by the way, Jon?"
"Oh, fine," Jon said, leaning back against his seat and folding his arms in front of himself.
"I'm sure Ron's family could have found room for her at the Burrow if you'd asked her to come with you," Hermione added innocently.
"I did say something about that when Ron asked me," Jon replied. "But she said she wasn't ready to travel very far from home."
"What's she doing for the break?" Harry asked.
"She said she was going back to her village."
"Did she ever tell you where that was?" Ron asked. Jon shook his head.
"She's being kind of secretive about that, isn't she?" Hermione remarked.
"Yeah, she is," Jon replied candidly. "I've told her she's being a bit paranoid about it. Little Pine's only got about three thousand people in it, but she seems to think that's a pretty big town."
"Hogsmeade only has about 1500 people in it," Hermione said.
"She thinks Hogsmeade's big too," Jon said. "She must live in a tiny little town."
"I saw her and Firenze talking the other day," Harry said. "They acted like they knew each other, pretty well, it looked from the way they were talking."
"Really? What were they talking about?" Jon asked. Harry noticed Jon was looking directly at him, making eye contact and acting as if he were concentrating hard on what Harry was saying. Was Jon trying to use Leglimency on him?
Letting his emotions drain away, Harry lied, "Oh, nothing, really, just making small talk about her Divination class. She's taking Professor Trelawney's class."
If Jon sensed any contradiction between his words and feelings, he gave nothing away; he simply nodded, saying nothing. Hermione and Ron, sensing a change in Harry's attitude, veered off into other subjects such as the last Vault Tournament round and the N.E.W.T. studies, which would intensify when they returned to school in January.
The trip passed uneventfully until they arrived at King's Cross in the early evening just as the sun was beginning to set. Mr. Weasley had arranged for a car, and he and Mrs. Weasley were waiting on Platform 9 ¾ when the Hogwarts Express pulled in.
As Harry stepped off the train, however, following Jon, Ron and Hermione, he was pushed roughly from behind and nearly fell. Catching himself, he turned around to see Draco Malfoy glaring furiously at him. Crabbe and Goyle stepped off the train behind him.
"Think you're clever, don't you, Potter," Malfoy said in a threatening tone. "Well you're not. Whatever you think you've gained, you've bought yourself a load of trouble to go along with it."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Malfoy," Harry said scathingly, admitting nothing. But he couldn't resist adding, "Seems like you're the one who's bought some trouble – if you go around breaking agreements with your head of House and bribing officials, you're just asking for it."
"Liar!" Malfoy hissed, stepping forward, but stopping as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came hurrying up behind Harry and the others.
Seeing that reinforcements had arrived, Malfoy said, "We'll just see who's asking for it when we get back to school, Potter." He stalked away, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, and disappeared through the barrier.
"What was that all about?" Mr. Weasley said, looking after them with some concern.
Harry said nothing. Ron turned with a grin and said to his father, "Oh, Malfoy just hasn't been himself lately, is all."
With Malfoy and his thugs gone, Mrs. Weasley greeted Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione with welcoming hugs. "And this is Jonathan Crown," Harry said, introducing him to the Weasleys.
"Hello, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, shaking his hand warmly. "I remember we met in Diagon Alley before school started."
"A pleasure to meet you, Jonathan," Mr. Weasley said, shaking his hand. "I've been told you have a keen interest in Muggle automobiles," he said eagerly.
"Yes, sir," Jon said. "As a matter of fact I have one at –" Ron, standing behind his father, was shaking his head and mouthing the words at home "– at home," Jon continued, changing direction in mid-sentence, "where we can drive them legally. Out of the view of Muggles, of course."
They got everyone's bags stowed away in the cavernous boot of the Ministry automobile and everyone scrambled inside. Even though the car looked barely big enough to accommodate four comfortably, like Jon's Corvette its outside was not a fair indicator of the amount of room there was inside. The bench seat in the back was like an enormous sofa; it almost seemed to expand to fit the entire group comfortably.
The drive from King's Cross to the Burrow occurred without incident. Everyone lined up behind the Ministry vehicle as Mr. Weasley and the driver handed them their bags. Harry and Ron walked up behind Jon as he looked at the Burrow in apparent awe.
"Pretty neat, huh?" Ron said as they walked past him into the kitchen door. Jon nodded absently, still looking at the assortment of gables, window, chimneys and other oddities poking out from the four sides of the house in interesting ways. "Come on, it gets better inside."
"Jon, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, following them into the house. "I've made you a bed in Fred and George's room. You'll find it on the second floor; Ron will show you where it's at."
"Come on, we'll give you the tour," Ron said, urging Jon to follow him and Harry up the narrow staircase. Even if he, Harry, wasn't too keen on Jon at the moment, Harry thought, Ron was being more the gracious host now that he was back home.
They dropped Jon's bag off in Fred and George's old room; except for the newly-made bed, it had changed very little in the nearly four months since they'd last been here – the boxes were still piled carelessly on top of one another on one side of the room.
"I'll have dinner ready in a few minutes," Mrs. Weasley's voice came up the staircase from the kitchen. "Mind you're ready to eat then."
"You know, I am getting hungry," Ron said, rubbing his stomach. "But even when we got off the train, I didn't think I could eat another bite today."
"Yeah, that's weird, isn't it?" Harry agreed. "I'm hungry too, now that your mum mentioned eating."
"I am too," Jon concurred. They walked over to the staircase, where Hermione and Ginny were coming down from putting their bags away in Ginny's room.
"Right. We'd better get washed up, she'll be sure to ask us, after that train ride. Oh," Ron said, turning to Jon. "Mind that you don't tell Dad too much about your car. We used to have an old Ford Anglia some years ago that he enchanted to fly, but me and Harry accidentally flew it into the Whomping Willow in our second year, and it went missing in the Forbidden Forest."
"Really?" Jon said, looking surprised and amused. "Are you kidding me?"
"Dead serious," Harry said.
"Dad's mad for all things Muggle, even though not so much these last few years. He's even got part of his old plug collection around here somewhere."
"A what collection?" Jon asked, not sure if he heard right.
"Plugs," Ron repeated. "For using eckletricity –"
"Electricity," Hermione corrected him.
"– or some other such rubbish," Ron finished. "Anyway, don't mention your car around him or Mum."
"N. S. F. G.," Jon said, with a sly smile. At their blank stare he added, "Not suitable for grownups."
"Right in one," Ginny said emphatically. "Dad'll want to talk your ear off about it, but Mum always hated that old car of his. She was glad you flew it off and lost it, even if Dad did have an inquiry over it."
Ron looked at her, completely nonplussed. "Could'a fooled me," he grumbled. "She nearly took my ears off with the Howler she sent me."
"I remember it," Ginny grinned.
Mrs. Weasley yelled upstairs at them again, and they all went down to dinner in the cramped little kitchen. She had fixed onion soup with thick slices of bread and had put out ham and cheese to make sandwiches with, along with glasses of pumpkin juice to wash it all down with. Harry ate with gusto – it had been a long time since he'd last tasted Mrs. Weasley's cooking, and even Hogwarts meals, as filling as they were, couldn't compare with the sense of family one got sitting around the scrubbed wooden table enjoying meals with one another. Halfway through, Fred and George showed up to welcome them home, and the Weasley kitchen was filled, happily, to near bursting.
After dinner they retired into the living room where Fred and George regaled the family with stories from their shop – how Verity had caught a group of boys who'd managed to lock themselves into one of George's Dwarf Wardrobes, a new item of theirs that looked like a small bedside cabinet but was large as a regular closet inside. The boys had apparently revived a pastime of seeing how many of them could fit inside at once.
"Our new stuff's practically flying off the shelves," Fred said proudly. "The Mystery Vault model in particular. I'm glad now Ron wanted us to make him one – it's turned into quite a money spinner."
"So what's my commission?" Ron asked, between sips of hot spiced cider Mrs. Weasley had made for everyone.
"We're arranging to have the patent in your name," George told him, with a wink toward Harry as he said it.
Mr. Weasley also had a few interesting stories – it seemed as if, whether in good times or bad, unscrupulous wizards would try to make a Galleon or two selling fraudulent charms and amulets. When the Wizarding wireless announced the beginning of Celestina Warbeck's program, however, Mrs. Weasley shushed them all into silence. For some time there was nothing but her soft, sensual songs heard in the Weasley house.
During one of the commercial breaks, Fred emptied his glass of cider, smacked his lips, and came to his feet. "Anyone need a refill?" he asked. "I'm buying."
George's glass was empty as well. "Me too." He glanced significantly at Harry, then at the kitchen. Harry took the hint.
"Me, too," he said, following them.
Once in the kitchen, under cover of pouring their drinks, Fred said, "We're a bit surprised to see Jon with you, Harry."
"Ron wrote us an owl after the last round of the Vault Tournament," George said quietly, making sure they weren't overheard in the living room. "He said you were having some second thoughts about how he and the other exchange student, Deirdre Recaunt, are acting regarding what you heard from Bane."
"Yeah," Harry said, just as quietly, not happy to be reminded of that just now. "I've still got to sort all that stuff out."
"We've got to get to the bottom of that as well," Fred said. "We're not letting anything happen to you if we've got anything to say about it, Harry," he said with fierce determination. George nodded, equally determined.
Harry felt a surge of gratitude for their loyalty. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."
"You're not drinking all the cider in there, are you?" Mrs. Weasley asked, shrilly, from the living room.
"No, mum," Fred shouted back, refilling his mug. They went back into the living room to listen to the rest of Celestina Warbeck's sultry, magical sounds.
Harry awoke tired on Christmas morning, feeling not at all as if he'd just spent the last eight hours in bed. The last few days had passed quickly – helping Ron and Ginny decorate the Burrow's living room, walking up and down Diagon Alley finding presents for all of his friends, and in the process, helping nearly all of them with hints for what to get him.
Now, sitting up slowly to find a stocking full of presents lying across the foot of his bed, just like the year before. He fervently hoped Christmas this year would be an improvement over the last few. Two years before, he recalled, he'd spent Christmas at St. Mungo's with the Weasley family after Mr. Weasley was bitten by Voldemort's snake, Nagini, after she had been discovered trying to get into the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. That had also been the last Christmas (although Harry hadn't known it then, of course), that he was to spend with his godfather Sirius Black, who was killed the following year by Sirius's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Last year, Harry'd had to deal with Mrs. Weasley's and Fleur Delacour's power struggle over her impending marriage to Bill Weasley. Harry also remembered his own power struggle with Rufus Scrimgeour, the then-new Minster of Magic, over the Ministry's abuse of its power and attempts to manipulate Harry into helping them deceive the Wizarding world about Voldemort.
"Happy Christmas," Harry heard Ron say, and he looked over to see Ron smiling cheerfully at him while popping a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean into his mouth. "Want one?" he asked, offering Harry the bag.
Harry took one, hoping for chocolate or peppermint; instead, it was spinach. He grimaced and started pulling presents from his sock. In it he found a red-and-gold sweater with the numbers "17" knitted across the back, obviously from Mrs. Weasley. From Ron he found a box of Chocolate Cauldrons. Harry smiled and held them up for Ron to see. "D'you want to have a go at these now or shall I wait for someone to put Amortentia in them?"
Ron threw an Every Flavor bean at him. There were other small presents in the stocking from Mrs. Weasley, Fred and George, and a few Christmas Crackers, which he and Ron pulled apart to reveal floating balloons and Chocolate Frogs.
"Not much of a take this year," Ron said, mildly disappointed, after the last Chocolate Frog had been consumed. He looked askance at Harry. "How do you think this thing of Jon's is going to work?" he wondered aloud.
"I don't know," Harry shook his head. Sometime in the last two days Mrs. Weasley had asked Jon how they did Christmas in America. Jon had told her that he and his uncles and some friends gathered around their Christmas tree after Christmas dinner and passed out presents. Mrs. Weasley, liking the idea and wanting Jon to feel welcome at the Burrow, decided they would follow the same idea this year.
So now the Christmas tree in the Burrow's living room was stacked roundabout with heaps of presents from the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione, Bill and Fleur, and Jon as well, who'd deposited quite a few under the tree. "It'll be interesting," Harry added, groaning as he swung his legs out of his camp bed and onto the cold floor.
"It's going to be a mess," Ron predicted, looking at the floor of his room, on which there was now a substantial amount of paper wrappers, ribbons, and Christmas Cracker confetti. If he told the truth, however, Harry didn't mind the mess – while he lived at the Dursleys, Harry had spent the majority of every Christmas watching Dudley open dozens of presents while Harry was given the chore of cleaning up the wrappings. The most they'd ever given him for Christmas was a fifty-pence piece, which he'd immediately given to Ron as an impromptu Christmas present.
Downstairs, Mrs. Weasley was fixing breakfast for a yawning Mr. Weasley, who'd roused himself after a long day at the Ministry and a short night's sleep to join in the festivities. "Happy Christmas!" he greeted them exuberantly as they came into the kitchen. "How were your presents this morning?"
"Great," Ron said, throwing himself into a chair.
"Don't flop down like that, Ronald," Mrs. Weasley said warningly without turning around.
"Very nice," Harry said to both the Weasleys. "Thank you."
"You're quite welcome, Harry," Mr. Weasley said, stifling a yawn.
"We're glad you're here again this year, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. She was now tipping sausages from a skillet onto Mr. Weasley's plate. She fished her wand out of her apron and waved it at the cabinet, which opened and disgorged two plates that soared over and landed in front of Harry and Ron. She tipped sausages onto Harry and Ron's plates and then did the same with a panful of eggs.
"Are you looking forward to more presents after dinner?" she asked, beaming, as she poured pumpkin juice for Harry and Ron.
"Yes," Harry said, then kicked Ron in the ankle when he didn't respond right away.
"Yes, Mum," Ron said automatically.
"Good!" Mrs. Weasley smiled broadly. "I think it'll be very interesting!" At that moment Ginny and Hermione appeared, looking sleepy, in pajamas and housecoats. "Happy Christmas, dears!" They both mumbled the same greeting to her and Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley looked searchingly at the staircase. "Ah, where's our last houseguest?" she wondered, looking at Harry and Ron. "Did either of you look in on him?"
"I heard him snoring," Ron said blandly. "In fact, I think he woke the ghoul in the attic, he was snoring so loud." Both Ginny and Hermione smiled under their hands.
"I wondered what that sound was when I came in last night," Mr. Weasley said suddenly. "I thought the wind was about to blow some of the shingles off the roof." Harry and Ron both laughed.
"Oh shush, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said sternly, but with a half-smile on her lips. "It wasn't that loud, really."
Jon slouched into the kitchen just then, covering a yawn and said, "Good morning," blinking in the sunlight coming in through the windows.
"Happy Christmas, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Would you like some breakfast too?"
"Yes, please," Jon said, sliding into the last empty chair, next to Hermione. That side of the table scooted over to make room for him.
"The ghoul in the attic didn't keep you awake last night, did he?" Mrs. Weasley asked, tipping first sausages then eggs onto Jon's plate.
"Oh, is that what that was?" Jon said, looking in Ron's direction. "I was beginning to wonder why Ron was being so clumsy."
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley chuckled, but no one else did. Ron turned to Harry and rolled his eyes so only Harry could see. Harry's concerns about Jon's loyalties had been discretely discussed for the past few days, out of Jon and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's hearing, of course. Harry still had no clear idea why he disliked Jon's whispered conversation with Deirdre Recaunt at the eighth Round of the Vault Tournament, but it certainly seemed as if nothing good would come of it.
The house began to fill in preparation for Christmas dinner. Bill and Fleur arrived from Shell Cottage. Bill, as always, was smiling and cheerful despite the deep scars still on his face from Fenrir Greyback's attack, and Fleur was radiant in a full-length dress that complemented her long, silvery hair. Fred and George arrived, accompanied surprisingly by their assistant Verity, whom they said they had invited along so she could have a "good, old-fashioned Christmas dinner just like Mum still makes."
With the extra people, the kitchen was too small for Christmas dinner, so Mr. Weasley, Fred and George set about preparing the living room. They moved most of the furniture against the walls and reduced its size so there was more floor space, then elongated the scrubbed table to nearly the length of the living room. Fred also drew up a few extra chairs for the table; they didn't quite match the originals, but it wouldn't matter since they would be vanished again after Christmas dinner was over.
Fleur produced an extra long tablecloth, a rather frilly, embroidered one that Harry thought looked out of place in the Burrow, and draped it over the table, after which Ginny brought the plates and silverware in from the kitchen, and Hermione, waving her wand, set the places.
Mrs. Weasley had prepared roasted Christmas turkey and ham, bowls of mashed potatoes, peas, corn and carrots from the Burrow's garden, and had whipped up gravies and sauces for ladling on the turkey and potatoes. There were plates of biscuits, rolls and thick slices of bread, with creamy butter, jellies and jams for condiments. Even though by now used to Mrs. Weasley's wonderful cooking, Harry hardly knew where to begin. He filled his plate with generous portions as the food was passed along to him, his mouth watering in anticipation of the succulent meal.
Verity, sitting directly across from Harry, next to Fred, was impressed as well. "I don't think I've seen this much food at one time since I was at Hogwarts," she said, gazing hungrily over the victuals set before her.
"Neither have I, come to think of it," Fred said. "You've really outdone yourself this time, Mum," he said, looking at his mother in admiration.
"Why, thank you, Fred dear," Mrs. Weasley said, blushing slightly.
"Yes, Molly," Mr. Weasley concurred. "Everything is simply scrumptious."
Verity, blinking, looked at Harry. She mouthed "scrumptious?" to Harry with a raised eyebrow, and Harry gave a small shrug as if to say, that's Mr. Weasley.
"How are things going at the Ministry these days, Dad?" Bill, sitting next to his father at the head of the table, asked.
"Still busy," Mr. Weasley said, sighing deeply. "A lot of fake protective amulets and bracelets are still turning up. Unfortunately, we're finding a lot of folks have bought stuff, and when they discover it doesn't work properly, they don't think to dispose of it properly and younger children are finding them and hexing or cursing themselves."
"Oh, how 'orrible!" Fleur gasped in shock.
Mr. Weasley nodded in grim agreement. "We've had three children sent to St. Mungo's in the last month alone. I suspect they've been searching for Christmas presents and came across the fake items instead. The Ministry is preparing a pamphlet to distribute to the Wizarding community to raise awareness of the danger."
"Have you seen Percy at the Ministry lately?" Bill asked, carefully casual.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a glance before he shrugged and said, "Not lately. Whatever he's been up to for Scrimgeour, it's been very hush-hush. I haven't even passed him in the corridors in months."
"Percy should have come round to apologize months ago," Fred said loudly, scowling at his father in indignation. "Especially after Scrimgeour promoted Dad and Fudge left the Ministry."
"Well, he hasn't," Mr. Weasley said, sounding sad. "It's his choice."
"It's rubbish," Fred and George said at the same time.
"Bill," Ron piped up, more to change the subject than anything. "When will the Vault Tournament start up again next year?"
Bill shrugged. "It's up to Artag. I'm beginning to wonder if it will resume next year – we're not getting many contestants. They're all afraid of being cursed."
"They can't close it down!" Ron said in a stricken tone.
"Why?"
When Ron looked a bit shifty about answering, Fred spoke up. "Our ickle Ronnie is trying to work out how to open it himself."
Everyone looked at Ron. "Well?" he said, looking back at them as if daring anyone to laugh. "Someone's got to open it, eventually. Nothing says it can't be me."
"Of course not!" Fleur said, looking at him with admiration. "Ronald, you should always pursue your dreams, yes?"
Ron was beaming at this unexpected praise from Fleur. Hermione, looking irked by his reaction to her comment, turned and said something under her breath to Jon, who chuckled. Annoyed, Harry glared at her until she glanced his way then gave her a "What are you doing talking to him about Ron?" look. Hermione frowned and stopped talking to Jon, but she wouldn't look Harry's way again.
After dinner, when the table had been cleared of food, Ginny was chosen to begin handing out presents. Harry got several more, including one from Jon, which he opened first, wanting to get it out of the way. To his surprise, however, he found that Jon had not given him a cheap or gag gift, but a penknife with several blades and other utensils in it, set with polished oak handles. There was a note with the knife, which Harry opened and read,
Harry,
I hope you'll find this penknife useful. I was intrigued by your story about the penknife your godfather
Sirius gave you that could unlock any lock or undo any knot. I spent some time this fall researching the
magic for such an item and came up with what you're holding now. Merry Christmas to you!
Sincerely,
Jon Crown
Harry had determined not to like whatever Jon gave him, but he admitted a certain grudging admiration for someone who went to the trouble Jon had gone through to make this for him.
There was a squeal across the table and Harry looked up to see Hermione eagerly regarding a book she had just unwrapped. "Oh! I've been wanting to get this for the longest time!" she said, showing the book to Ginny. Harry glanced quickly over at Ron; he was watching, stone-faced, as Hermione turned back to Jon and thanked him, almost gushingly, Harry thought. The present-opening went on for some time, but Harry had lost any enthusiasm for it. He was beginning to feel, despite the gift Jon had given him, that the American had a very different agenda than Harry did.
Soon Bill and Fleur were saying their farewells. Fred and George had already left to work on "some project," and Mr. Weasley had cornered Jon once more to ask about American Muggles. Harry, Ron and Hermione all said they were heading off to bed, and Ginny followed suit.
But as soon as they had gone up the stairs, Ginny and Hermione slipped up to Ron's room. Making sure Ron's door was shut, Hermione took out her wand, pointed it at the door and said, "Imperturbatus," making it impossible to hear conversations through the door.
"Alright, Harry," she said, putting away her wand. "What's your problem?"
"My problem?" Harry said indignantly. "You're the one who's still being chummy with that Yank!"
"I'm being polite, not chummy," Hermione retorted. "And if you didn't want him here, why did you invite him, anyway?"
"I invited him before we knew something was up with him and Deirdre," Ron snapped. He was still irritated at her, Harry guessed, because she'd gotten Jon a present.
"You're blowing this way out of proportion, Harry," Hermione said, ignoring Ron's comment. "You said that you followed Deirdre to Eeylops, not Jon. He was with us back at the Vault Tournament the entire time."
"They've been chummy as well," Harry shot back. "And she seemed a lot less afraid of Bane than any normal person would be, considering how he acted the last time we saw him in the Forbidden Forest."
"I've been talking to him as well," Ginny put in, "and I haven't seen him do anything suspicious. It seems like you're accusing him because of the conversation you listened in on between Bane and Deirdre."
"Their village knows the centaurs, remember?" Hermione pointed out. "She's admitted that!"
"And that sounds pretty dodgy to me right there," Harry said. "Bane told her that 'the Vows,' whatever they are, were broken by Firenze when he came to teach at Hogwarts. If centaurs didn't interact with humans, what's up with that village they're supposed to visit all the time, according to Deirdre? Why would centaurs visit a small human village regularly, unless they were involved in something together?"
An idea tickled the back of Harry's brain, and he went with it. "Suppose," he said, "that a group of Death Eaters were in that village, and that the centaurs were negotiating with them, since they've supposedly read the signs of Voldemort achieving his goal in the heavens?"
Ron's eyes had gone wide. "Like what Hagrid told us about the giants, when he and Madam Maxime went to visit them, after You-Know-Who came back! They had Death Eaters visiting them, too, right after Hagrid and Maxime got kicked out of the giants' camp."
"Are you saying," Hermione asked carefully, "that you think Deirdre or Jon are Death Eaters?" She and Ginny both looked deeply skeptical of this idea.
Harry shook his head. "No, I'm saying they might know of some in Deirdre's village.
They broke up to go to bed for real. Harry wasn't really pleased with Hermione; she still felt she was being loyal to him and merely polite with Jon. He would have to keep pressing her to stay away from Jon; he didn't want Jon to learn anything that could compromise their search for Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Harry dreamed that night that he and Professor Dumbledore were playing Exploding Snap against Ron and Snape. Ron kept telling Snape what cards he was holding, and Snape kept winning. Harry kept protesting but Dumbledore just kept saying, "Well, remember, Harry – Professor Snape is still on our side, even if you think he's not." Snape just smiled maliciously whenever Dumbledore said that, as if he and Harry both knew the truth but there was nothing Harry could do about it.
Harry began to yell at Dumbledore, saying how foolish he was to believe Snape, when he found himself sitting bolt upright in bed in Ron's room. Blinking sleepily, he looked around. Ron wasn't in his bed, and Harry couldn't hear or see anyone else in the room. Where's Ron, he wondered, but just at that moment he heard the toilet downstairs flush. Satisfied, Harry laid back and was asleep almost as his head touched the pillow.