HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS
In a brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more.
"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord — well, you know who I mean — is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord — Thingy.
"We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."
The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."
Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening.
Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards, and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile Harry Potter and Christina Bataskill—
"There you are, I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," said Hermione, looking over the top of the paper at them. They were in the hospital wing. Christina was sitting in a chair next to Hermione while Harry was sitting on the end of Ron's bed and they were both listening to Hermione read the front page of the Sunday Prophet. Ginny, whose ankle had been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione's bed; Neville, whose nose had likewise been returned to its normal size and shape, was in a chair between the two beds; and Luna, who had dropped in to visit clutching the latest edition of The Quibbler, was reading the magazine upside down and apparently not taking in a word Hermione was saying.
"They have their names again now, though, don't they?" said Ron darkly. "Not such show-off maniacs or heart-breakers anymore, eh?" He helped himself to a handful of Chocolate Frogs from the immense pile Fred and George had sent on his bedside cabinet, threw a few to Christina, Harry, Ginny, and Neville, and ripped off the wrapper of his own with his teeth. There were still deep welts on his forearms where the brain's tentacles had wrapped around him. According to Madam Pomfrey, thoughts could leave deeper scarring than almost anything else, though since she had started applying copious amounts of Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction, there seemed to be some improvement. Christina's pile of goodies and treats from Fred was so large she was almost embarrassed, then remembered what she had endured and instantly stopped caring. Fred had wrote Christina a letter but she still hadn't read it for she hadn't had a single moment alone since receiving it.
"Yes, they're very complimentary about you now," said Hermione, now scanning down the article. " 'A lone voice of truth . . . perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story . . . both forced to bear ridicule and slander . . .' Hmmm," said Hermione, frowning, "I notice they don't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering, though. . . ."
She winced slightly and put a hand to her ribs. The curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud, had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey's words, "quite enough damage to be going on with." Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day and although she was improving greatly, was already bored with the hospital wing.
" 'You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to four, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine . . .' Well," said Hermione, folding up the newspaper and throwing it aside, "it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry isn't exclusive, it's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago. . . ."
"Daddy sold it to them," said Luna vaguely, turning a page of The Quibbler. "He got a very good price for it too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer and see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Hermione seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, then said, "That sounds lovely."
Ginny caught Christina's eye and looked away quickly, grinning.
"So anyway," said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter and wincing again, "what's going on in school?"
"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny. "He did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off —"
"Why?" said Hermione, looking startled.
"Oh, he just says it was a really good bit of magic," said Ginny, shrugging.
"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George," said Ron through a mouthful of chocolate.
"They sent me all these, you know," he told Harry, pointing at the small mountain of Frogs beside him.
"Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?" Hermione looked rather disapproving at Christina's tower of sweets and asked, "So has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?"
"Yes," said Neville, "everything's settled right back down again."
"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" asked Ron, propping a Chocolate Frog card featuring Dumbledore against his water jug.
"Not at all," said Ginny. "He's really, really miserable, actually. . . ." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He keeps saying Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts. . . ."
All seven of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling. Dumbledore had strode alone into the forest to rescue her from the centaurs. How he had done it — how he had emerged from the trees supporting Professor Umbridge without so much as a scratch on him — nobody knew, and Umbridge was certainly not telling. Since she had returned to the castle she had not, as far as any of them knew, uttered a single word. Nobody really knew what was wrong with her either. Her usually neat mousy hair was very untidy and there were bits of twig and leaf in it, but otherwise she seemed to be quite unscathed.
"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," whispered Hermione.
"Sulking, more like," said Ginny
"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking wildly around.
"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.
"No . . . no . . ." said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows, "no, I must have been dreaming. . . ." Christina, Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes.
"Speaking of centaurs," said Hermione, when she had recovered a little, "who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?"
"He's got to," said Harry, "the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?"
"It looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach," said Ginny.
"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," said Ron, now munching on his fourteenth Frog. "Mind you, the whole subjects useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better. . . ."
"How can you say that?" Hermione demanded. "After we've just found out that there are real prophecies?" Christina's heart began to race. She had not told Ron, Hermione, or anyone else what the prophecy had contained. Neville had told them it had smashed while Harry was pulling him up the steps in the Death Room, and Christina nor Harry had not yet corrected this impression. She was not ready to see their expressions when she told them that she must be either murderer or victim, there was no other way. . . .
"It is a pity it broke," said Hermione quietly, shaking her head.
"Yeah, it is," said Ron. "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it either — where are you going?" he added, looking both surprised and disappointed as Harry stood up.
"Er — Hagrid's," said Harry. "You know, he just got back and I promised I'd go down and see him and tell him how you two are. . . ." Christina looked Harry up and down and knew he was lying. She felt like she could feel his heart-rate rising.
"Oh all right then," said Ron grumpily, looking out of the dormitory window at the patch of bright blue sky beyond. "Wish we could come . . ."
"Say hello to him for us!" called Hermione, as Harry proceeded down the ward. "And ask him what's happening about . . . about his little friend!" Harry gave a wave of his hand as he left the dormitory.
"Yeah, I'm probably going to head off too, you won't believe how many people keep asking about the story!" said Neville, rising from his chair proudly. Luna rose too, without saying a word and followed Neville, head buried in her Quibbler . . .
"Bye . . . I guess . . ." said Ron quizzically then turned to Christina very seriously. "Don't blast me through the door but . . . You-Know-Who knows, now . . . right?"
Christina sighed. "Yeah."
"So what does that mean?" asked Ginny, finishing her frog. Hermione, for once, was silent.
"Well . . . Dumbledore said that Voldemort will either try to collect me or kill me . . but I hope he exposes me. I'm so sick of hiding. Wouldn't it be nice if I could just use my powers all the time? Not save them for a rainy day – hah – well not literally . . ." said Christina remembering that her powers don't work when she touches water.
"I can't believe you fought him, head-on . . . I mean, I'm not doubting you its just . . . well, it's Him, isn't it?" said Hermione timidly. Christina patted a hand on Hermione's shoulder, offering her mock-sincerity.
"A think a good job, would have sufficed." Christina joked. Hermione laughed, "But seriously! Christina you're only twenty-one and you just fought the most wicked man in the Wizarding World – "
"Do you want my autograph?" she joked again.
"I'm just saying be careful, Professor Dumbledore's right, he'll try to use you in any way he can, it's just what he does." Christina didn't speak. Hermione was right, but honestly Christina wasn't worried, she wasn't . . . anything at the moment. She was just there, making jokes, not focusing on anything in particular.
"So, we thinking a summer wedding?" said Ginny, Christina shook her head and smiled at her. Mentally thanking her for changing the subject.
"Well now that my fiancé's a millionaire . . ."
Ron and Hermione left the hospital wing completely cured three days before the end of term. Harry returned every now and then but seemed to prefer to be alone. Christina was fine with this, she felt rather uncomfortable in his presence since they attacked each other.
Hermione showed signs of wanting to talk about Sirius, but Ron tended to make hushing noises every time she mentioned his name. Christina was not sure whether or not he wanted to talk about her father yet; her wishes varied with her mood. She knew one thing, though: Unhappy as she felt at the moment, she would greatly miss Hogwarts in a few days' time when she was back in the United States. Indeed, she had never dreaded her return more.
Professor Umbridge left Hogwarts the day before the end of term. It seemed that she had crept out of the hospital wing during dinnertime, evidently hoping to depart undetected, but unfortunately for her, she met Peeves on the way, who seized his last chance to do as Fred had instructed and chased her gleefully from the premises, whacking her alternately with a walking stick and a sock full of chalk. Many students ran out into the entrance hall to watch her running away down the path, and the Heads of Houses tried only halfheartedly to restrain their pupils. Indeed, Professor McGonagall sank back into her chair at the staff table after a few feeble remonstrances and was clearly heard to express a regret that she could not run cheering after Umbridge herself, because Peeves had borrowed her walking stick.
Their last evening at school arrived; most people had finished packing and were already heading down to the end-of-term feast, but Christina had not even started.
"Just do it tomorrow!" said Ron, who was waiting by the door of the girl's dormitory. "Come on, I'm starving and Harry hasn't packed either. . . ."
"I won't be long. . . . Look, you go ahead with Hermione. . . ." Hermione had just gotten up to leave and Ron moaned and Hermione shut the door behind them. But when the dormitory door closed, Christina made no effort to speed up her packing. The very last thing she wanted to do was to attend the end-of-term feast. She was worried that Dumbledore would make some reference to her in his speech. He was sure to mention Voldemort's return; he had talked to them about it last year, after all. . . .
Christina pulled some crumpled robes out of the very bottom of her trunk to make way for folded ones and, as she picked up the stack on folded clothes several candy wrapped and a letter revealed themselves on her bed. Christina sank down onto her bed and unwrapped the envelope and removed the letter.
Christina –
My Dad told me everything. George and I came home from work and the Order was just in shambles. I'm so sorry, love I am so sorry. You don't deserve this. Any of this. Buckbeak's been a wreck, we all have. He was a great man, he died with honor I hope you know . . . I'm sure a lot of people are telling you that now but coming from me in a non-jokey manner should mean something. I'm here for you and I'll always be here for you. At least know everyone knows you can kick their ass, I'd like to see Snape try and get in your head now!
Listen, I don't want you to be alone but I can't come to Hogwarts to see you. I wish I could. You know you can always come see me, by death horse or train . . . Oh, good news! Your fiancé has come through!
Dumbledore put me in contact with your American family and they were thrilled about the engagement and were very understanding that a couple to be wed shouldn't be apart … especially for the summer. So they've agreed to let you stay with me … we'll be together at the Burrow again! God, I miss you so much. I'll see you at the train station, love.
All my love,
Christina Weasley WAIT Fred Bataskill hold on Frestina Weaslskill
We'll figure it out
P.S. Did you like the chocolates? None were poisoned, just for you. And Ron who probably ate most of them despite himself.
P.P.S Love you
P.P.P.S My mum says we can't stay in the same room, because 'She won't be with you after seeing the state of your room, Fred! For heaven's sake!'
P.P.P.P.S Did Umbridge really get mauled by centaurs? You'll have to tell me everything. In my room. To spite my mother.
P.P.P.P.P.S How many of these can I do before it's long enough to be its own letter?
P.P.P.P.P.P.S Answer: 7
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. See you soon 3
She bit her lip smiling, tears blurring her vision. If there was anything in this world that was perfect and pure it was Fred Weasley. To her, he was impeccable. Gorgeous, hilarious, sweet, genuine, tall, athletic, friendly, sexually stimulating . . . He was the absolute package, and Christina for the life of her couldn't understand why someone so sublime would want to be with such a drama-magnet that was Christina Bataskill. Parent-less, powerful of ancient magic, chosen to either murder or die at the hand of Lord Voldemort: Christina Bataskill.
Christina looked down at the letter again at the note about her living at the Burrow . . . finally! A summer with the people she cared about. But, did that mean she really did have to plan a wedding? Christina was never the type of girl to obsess over a wedding, she rarely had given it thought compared to most girls who planned theirs since birth it seemed like . . . but she knew she wanted all her friends there and that included Harry. She had to find him to apologize.
Christina folded the letter and kissed the seal before stowing it in her luggage underneath the pile of neatly folded clothes – Mrs. Weasley will be impressed, Christina thought.
Christina remembered Ron saying Harry was still packing and whisked herself through the walls as her dust-version and found the room to be empty. Determined, she flew invisibly through the Gryffindor common room and down to the Great Hall where she reassembled herself in the broom closet directly across, a hideaway of hers and Fred's for quite some time now . . .
She walked through the Great Hall and scanned the tables, however her entrance was not as quiet as she would have liked. Nearly every student seemed to be watching her and she couldn't just stand there searching for Harry . . . she trudged on forward. It was very different than last year's End-of-Term feast. For one, there were no black banners hanging from the ceiling . . . instead they were thankfully blue, Christina knew Gryffindor didn't stand a chance with the Inquisitorial Squad still docking points. However she did notice several more pebbles than usual . . probably by way of Professor Dumbledore. He seemed to have a soft spot for giving Gryffindor surprise points by the end of the term.
Christina found Hermione and Ron and sat in between them, both of them looking at her dismally. Christina assumed Dumbledore had just mentioned the events at the Department of Mysteries . . . even thinking about the name made her angry.
"Do you know where Harry is?" Christina whispered to Hermione and Ron as Dumbledore trudged on with his speech.
"We'd thought he'd be with you!" Hermione whispered back.
"He was in the boy's dormitory last time I saw him . . . " said Ron.
"What's the matter?" Hermione asked.
"We got into a huge fight in Dumbledore's office. I wanted to apolog-"
"What!?" Ron blurted out. Ginny, Dean, and Neville all turned.
"Shh! What happened?" said Hermione annoyed at Ron for not whispering.
"Sirius wouldn't have died if Harry wasn't such an idiot! But, whatever, that's not the point. The point is we shouldn't hate each other just because Harry is the worst." She said, clearly still bothered.
"Christina, it doesn't sound like you're sorry at all . . . "
"Would you apologize to him? We wouldn't have gone if he didn't see that vision! Guys, Sirius was the only adult who actually understood what I was going through." But Hermione had heard enough.
"Christina you very well know that Sirius didn't die because Harry was an 'idiot'." Christina huffed. She felt more content with being angry than facing the reality that Harry really thought he was doing what he thought was right at the time.
"Whatever. Someone has to be to blame." said Christina, crossing her arms resolutely.
"Blame that mad-cow Bellatrix! Go send some rocks her way, she could use a few dents in the head." said Ron in a loud whisper. Hermione rolled her eyes. Students were clapping now; the speech must have just ended because food was now appearing on all the silver trays in front of them. Christina suddenly felt the company of Ron and Hermione was something she wanted much more than apologizing to Harry. She talked to Ron and Hermione about Fred's letter and Ron and Ginny were nearly floored.
"Really? Oh my God, finally another girl, you've got to help me with these idiots-" Ginny started excitedly.
"As if she's going to be hanging around you! Fred and her are going to be off canoodling." Ron added with a mouthful of pudding.
"Mum's going to want to plan the wedding with you, I hope you know – " Ginny went on.
"I think this'll finally put you back into her good graces – " said Ron. Christina hadn't forgotten that Mrs. Weasley believed Christina had cheated on Harry with Fred and hadn't yet met Mrs. Weasley's wrath once she would soon find out that Christina had given Fred and George money for their joke-shop.
"It'll be one hell of a summer, that's for sure."
The journey home on the Hogwarts Express next day was eventful in several ways. Firstly, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, who had clearly been waiting all week for the opportunity to strike without teacher witnesses, attempted to ambush Christina halfway down the train as she made her way back from the toilet. The attack might have succeeded had it not been for the fact that they unwittingly chose to stage the attack right outside a compartment full of D.A. members, who saw what was happening through the glass and rose as one to rush to Christina's aid. By the time Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot had finished using a wide variety of the hexes and jinxes Christina and Harry had taught them, Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle resembled nothing so much as three gigantic slugs squeezed into Hogwarts uniforms as Christina, Ernie, and Justin hoisted them into the luggage rack and left them there to ooze.
"I must say, I'm looking forward to seeing Malfoy's mother's face when he gets off the train," said Ernie with some satisfaction, as he watched Malfoy squirm above him. Ernie had never quite got over the indignity of Malfoy docking points from Hufflepuff during his brief spell as a member of the Inquisitorial Squad.
"Goyle's mum'll be really pleased, though," said Ron, who had come to investigate the source of the commotion. "He's loads better looking now. . . . Anyway, Christina, the food trolley's just stopped if you want anything. . . ." Christina thanked the others and accompanied Ron back to their compartment, where she bought a large pile of Cauldron Cakes and Pumpkin Pasties. Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet again, Harry was looking out the window mistily, Ginny was doing a quiz in The Quibbler, and Neville was stroking his Mimbulus mimbletonia, which had grown a great deal over the year and now made odd crooning noises when touched. Harry and Ron whiled away most of the journey playing wizard chess while Hermione read out snippets from the Prophet. It was now full of articles about how to repel dementors, attempts by the Ministry to track down Death Eaters, and hysterical letters claiming that the writer had seen Lord Voldemort walking past their house that very morning. . . .
"It hasn't really started yet," sighed Hermione gloomily, folding up the newspaper again. "But it won't be long now. . . ."
"Hey, Harry," said Ron, nodding toward the glass window onto the corridor. Christina looked to see what he was pointing at. Cho was passing, accompanied by Marietta Edgecombe, who was wearing a balaclava. Cho blushed and kept walking.
"What's — er — going on with you and her anyway?" Christina asked quietly. It was the first thing she said to him since they were in Dumbledore's office.
"Nothing," said Harry genuinely.
"I — er — heard she's going out with someone else now," said Hermione tentatively.
"You're well out of it, mate," said Ron forcefully. "I mean, she's quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful."
"She's probably cheerful enough with someone else," said Harry, shrugging.
"Who's she with now anyway?" Christina asked Hermione, but it was Ginny who answered.
"Michael Corner," she said.
"Michael — but —" said Ron, craning around in his seat to stare at her. "But you were going out with him!"
"Not anymore," said Ginny resolutely. "He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead." She scratched her nose absently with the end of her quill, turned The Quibbler upside down, and began marking her answers. Christina laughed proudly. "Good for you."
Ron looked highly delighted. "Well, I always thought he was a bit of an idiot," he said, moving a piece in his game of chess with Harry. "Just choose someone — better — next time." Christina rolled her eyes.
"Well, I've chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he's better?" asked Ginny vaguely. Christina smiled, clapping wordlessly at Ginny.
"WHAT?" shouted Ron, upending the chessboard. Crookshanks went plunging after the pieces and Tulip, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twittered and hooted angrily from overhead.
As the train slowed down in the approach to King's Cross, Christina thought she had never wanted to leave it more. When it finally puffed to a standstill, she jumped up, lifted down Tulip's cage and prepared to drag her trunk from the train.
When the ticket inspector signaled to her, Harry, Ron, and Hermione that it was safe to walk through the magical barrier between platforms nine and ten, however, she found a different surprise awaiting them on the other side: a group of people standing there to greet them whom she had not expected at all.
There was Mad-Eye Moody, looking quite as sinister with his bowler hat pulled low over his magical eye as he would have done without it, his gnarled hands clutching a long staff, his body wrapped in a voluminous traveling cloak. Tonks stood just behind him, her bright bubble-gum-pink hair gleaming in the sunlight filtering through the dirty glass station ceiling, wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend the weird sisters. Next to Tonks was Lupin, his face pale, his hair graying, a long and threadbare overcoat covering a shabby jumper and trousers. At the front of the group stood Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, dressed in their Muggle best, and Fred and George, who were both wearing brand-new jackets in some lurid green, scaly material. Christina dropped her trunk and cage and leapt for Fred who caught her with ease.
"Oh the happy couple!" Mrs. Weasley cooed. "Ron, Ginny!" called Mrs. Weasley, hurrying forward and hugging her children tightly.
"Miss me?" Fred said smiling, an inch from her face and looking quite pleased with himself.
"I can't believe I'm staying with you this summer, you are the absolute best!" and she kissed him hard on the mouth. She heard a cough come from behind her and Fred let her down. Christina had nearly forgotten she was in the middle of a train platform. She moved on to Mrs. Weasley who seemed as eager as ever to hug her future daughter-in-law.
"Oh, and Christina dear — how are you?"
"Fine now," said Christina with a satisfied sigh. Mrs. Weasley pulled her into a tight embrace. Over her shoulder she saw Ron goggling at the twins' new clothes.
"What are they supposed to be?" he asked, pointing at the jackets.
"Finest dragon skin, little bro," said Fred, giving his zip a little tweak. "Business is booming and we thought we'd treat ourselves."
"Hello, Christina," said Lupin, as Mrs. Weasley let go of Christina and turned to greet Hermione.
"Hey," said Christina. "I didn't expect . . . what are you all doing here?"
"Well," said Lupin with a slight smile, "we thought we might have a little chat with Harry's aunt and uncle before letting them take him home. I assume the Burrow is to your liking?" they both smiled.
"So you've heard?" Christina asked looking down at her shoes.
"Congratulations." Lupin said placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Ah, Christina! Future Weasley, eh?" said Mr. Weasley, turning from Hermione's parents, whom he had been greeting enthusiastically, and who were taking it in turns to hug Hermione. Mr. Weasley gave Christina a big hug and then held her shoulders so he could look at her properly. He just stared at her, a look of wonder in his eyes as if he was looking at his favorite muggle-tech-toy. He shook his head and smiled, then turned to Lupin.
"Well — shall we do it, then?"
"Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur," said Moody. He and Mr. Weasley took the lead across the station toward the place where the Dursleys stood, apparently rooted to the floor. Hermione disengaged herself gently from her mother to join the group. Fred found his way to Christina fully ready to have her in the middle of the station but Christina held him back, ready to watch Harry's uncle melt with hatred.
"Good afternoon," said Mr. Weasley pleasantly to Vernon, coming to a halt right in front of him. "You might remember me, my name's Arthur Weasley." Vernon turned a deeper shade of puce and glared at Mr. Weasley, but chose not to say anything, partly, perhaps, because the Dursleys were outnumbered two to one. Harry's Aunt Petunia looked both frightened and embarrassed. She kept glancing around, as though terrified somebody she knew would see her in such company. Harry's cousin Dudley, meanwhile, seemed to be trying to look small and insignificant, a feat at which he was failing extravagantly.
"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry," said Mr. Weasley, still smiling.
"Yeah," growled Moody. "About how he's treated when he's at your place." Vernon's mustache seemed to bristle with indignation. Possibly because the bowler hat gave him the entirely mistaken impression that he was dealing with a kindred spirit, he addressed himself to Moody.
"I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house —"
"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley," growled Moody. Christina barked out of a laugh to which Fred, behind her, clasped her mouth shut.
"Anyway, that's not the point," interjected Tonks, whose pink hair seemed to offend Petunia more than all the rest put together, for she closed her eyes rather than look at her. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry —"
"— and make no mistake, we'll hear about it," added Lupin pleasantly.
"Yes," said Mr. Weasley, "even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone —"
"Telephone," whispered Hermione.
"Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to," said Moody. Vernon swelled ominously. His sense of outrage seemed to outweigh even his fear of this bunch of oddballs.
"Are you threatening me, sir?" he said, so loudly that passersby actually turned to stare.
"Yes, I am," said Mad-Eye, who seemed rather pleased that Vernon had grasped this fact so quickly.
"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" barked Vernon.
"Well . . ." said Moody, pushing back his bowler hat to reveal his sinisterly revolving magical eye. Vernon leapt backward in horror and collided painfully with a luggage trolley.
"Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley." He turned from Vernon to Harry. "So, Potter . . . give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along. . . ." Petunia whimpered piteously. It could not have been plainer that she was thinking of what the neighbors would say if they caught sight of these people marching up the garden path.
" 'Bye, then, Potter," said Moody, grasping Harry's shoulder for a moment with a gnarled hand.
"Take care, Harry," said Lupin quietly. "Keep in touch."
"Harry, we'll have you away from there as soon as we can," Mrs. Weasley whispered, hugging him again.
"We'll see you soon, mate," said Ron anxiously, shaking Harry's hand.
"Really soon, Harry," said Hermione earnestly. "We promise." Christina walked over to Harry, honestly sad to see him go. She couldn't think of anything to say . . . so she just hugged him. Harry must have been shocked her he didn't reciprocate immediately but he eventually found his holding.
"I'm so sorry . . . " Harry said into her neck. She bit her lip, emotion flooding her. He grabbed at the back of her sweater and huffed, upset as well.
"I'm glad you're alive." She said back, feeling swept up. She felt someone place a hand on her shoulder and didn't care who it was. She was going to miss Harry, angst and all. He let her go and wiped a tear from her eye.
Harry, never one for goodbyes, smiled, raised a hand in farewell, turned around, and led the way out of the station toward the sunlit street, with Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley hurrying along in his wake.
"I'm proud of you" Christina turned to see it was Hermione's hand on her shoulder. Christina smiled back at her.
"I can only hate him for so long, we're in this together after all." Hermione looked as though she were about to cry as well but it was Mrs. Weasley who pulled them out of their reverie.
"Christina, dear, you will not believe the colors and flowers I have picked out for your wedding! I've got clippings from magazines and, dear, it's going to be perfect. I'll show you when we get home!" Christina couldn't help but laugh as she waved goodbye to Hermione and her parents and hello to a summer with The Weasleys.