As the days went by, Harry began to see plenty of his peers from Hogwarts. He'd met Seamus and Dean in Quality Quidditch Supplies where he'd been purchasing a new set of Quidditch armour for Ron for Yule, and he came across Neville outside Flourish & Blotts while heading to get another book on time travel. He figured that he should at least research if someone had managed to travel back in a manner similar to him.
"Oh, honestly, Neville," Neville's grandmother was saying. "Forgetting your booklist; that's the reason we've come here!"
Harry winced at the miserable expression on Neville's face. He'd conversed with Mrs Longbottom numerous times in the future during the monthly Wizengamot meetings and she was quite the formidable woman for as old as she was. Once he'd met her and got to know her for a while, Harry easily realized why Neville was so meek. With such a stern woman as a grandmother, especially one who kept comparing him to his parents, it was no wonder why Neville had struggled to find a sense of self-worth.
"Gran, I'm sorry!" Neville moaned. "It was in my pocket when we left, I swear!"
Taking pity on the young version of his friend, Harry summoned his booklist from his room, not worrying about Neville needing different books since they'd taken the same classes for most of their years at Hogwarts.
"Hey, Nev!" Harry said, jogging over to his friend. "I think you dropped this."
Neville beamed. "Oh, thanks, Harry!" he said in relief, taking the list from him.
Harry turned to Mrs Longbottom and smiled innocently. "Hello, you must be Neville's Gran," said Harry. "Nev speaks highly of you."
Mrs Longbottom raised a curt brow. "Does he?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah, of course," said Harry, doing his best to sound surprised that she would even think otherwise. "He says that you encourage him in his studies and are very proud of him, not that I would suspect otherwise, of course. Nev's really good at school, Herbology especially. He's the top of our year, I think. Even better than Hermione. Hermione's our friend, by the way, another Gryffindor. She's got the highest grades out of almost everyone."
Neville was staring at Harry with a bewildered expression as he babbled at Mrs Longbottom, something very much unlike him. There was something akin to panic or worry in his wide eyes but Harry just sent him a little grin, letting him know that he knew what he was doing. Harry wanted to try and get Neville's Gran to see that Neville was someone to be proud of, no matter the fact that he was not like his father. No one could be exactly like their parents, after all. This was something Harry had long ago realized, and though he had been bitter and ashamed at the time, he was proud of who he was. Lily and James Potter were his parents, but he was not their shadows. He was his own person. And that was something Neville and his Gran had to realize, as well.
Harry's eyes gleamed as he realized that he knew a way that he could get them to realize this. Neville's current wand was his father's and it didn't work well for him, but Harry knew that as soon as he got a new wand that his friend would greatly improve in Hogwarts. He just had to see for himself.
"You're getting all of your school things then?" Harry asked, walking with the Longbottoms into the bookshop.
"Er, yeah…" said Neville, still looking bewildered. He glanced down at his list, and seeing The Monster Book of Monsters, his face turned white at the sight of the scuffling books in the cage. "I need one of those…"
"Well, don't be shy, boy," Mrs Longbottom said, pulling Neville in the direction of the cage, much to his horror. "Go ahead and grab your book. What's next on your list?"
Neville stared warily at the books and Harry decided to help him out. "I've already got one of those," said Harry, idly reaching into the cage without a care in the world. "You've just got to stroke the spine, see?" Harry ran a finger along one of the book's glossy, green-scaled spines. The book shuddered and fell pliant.
"Thanks, Harry," said Neville in relief as Harry dropped the book into his hands. Harry grinned at his friend and continued to ramble about random stuff as he followed Neville and his Gran around the bookshop, providing random information on some of the books he'd already read from the bookshop, including one that went over Herbology and Potions in a way that made Harry understand the horrid subject.
"Hey, Nev, aren't you going to get a new wand?" Harry asked after Neville purchased his books. Harry paid for a simple book called Time Travelling and a copy of Magick Moste Ancient for his Ancient Studies class. McGonagall had been pleasantly surprised by his change of subjects but he hadn't bought the book yet. It'd only been a few days since she'd sent her letter to him, after all.
"Why would he need a new wand?" Mrs Longbottom cut in sharply with pursed lips. "Neville's wand is a fine wand; it was his father's, after all."
Harry frowned. "Mr Ollivander told me that the wand should choose you when I was getting my wand, otherwise it won't work well with your magic, since everyone's different and all," he told Mrs Longbottom. "And I'm not saying that it's not a good wand, but I can tell Neville struggles with it. " Neville's face was flushed red in embarrassment as Mrs Longbottom turned to face him.
"What does he mean that it doesn't work well for you?" Mrs Longbottom demanded.
"It's not his fault, Mrs Longbottom," Harry quickly defended Neville, who looked like a deer in headlights. "His dad's wand is ash, isn't it?" Mrs Longbottom nodded. "Well, I'm not sure if you know this, but ash wands are known to be very stubborn. They, most often than not, don't work for those who aren't their owner and they tend to lose power if forced to work with someone else. He's not reaching his full potential with that one."
Mrs Longbottom looked as if she had been sucking on a lemon but Harry was glad that he'd studied wandlore during the run. It had been when they'd all been wondering what Voldemort had wanted with Ollivander and the Elder wand, and though it had been boring at the time, he now found it helpful and interesting, even. If his random knowledge of wandlore could help his friend become the man he knew he could be, then he was glad for it.
Mrs Longbottom turned to look at a nervous Neville. "Tell me, grandson, is what that boy's saying true?" she asked him sternly and Harry didn't try to cut in this time, knowing that it was up to Neville now. Harry gave him a reassuring nod behind Mrs Longbottom's back before wandering over to the front window of Wiseacre's to give them some privacy. "Is my son's wand not working for you?"
"Yes, Gran," whispered Neville with a slump in his shoulders. Even then, he did not look away from his grandmother, knowing that this was important. "It struggles against me every time it casts and I can barely master a spell with it. I've got O's and E's on my spell theory but I've barely managed an Acceptable on my wand work."
"Oh, Neville," said Mrs Longbottom with a hint of grief in her tone. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were so happy that I was using Dad's wand," Neville said. "I didn't want to make you upset."
Harry finally tuned them out and gazed into Wiseacre's. He'd always loved the shop as it was just as magical as he imagined any shop in Diagon should be. Magical trinkets of all sorts filled various shelves, little brass pixies and gryphons flying around and clockwork cats bounding in and out of view. Harry thought, that if he wasn't destined to defeat Voldemort, that he'd like to do something like this. He could only imagine how fun it could be to charm a little figurine to move around and to actually get to see it to do that.
"Hey, Harry," Neville said, getting Harry's attention. Harry looked back at Neville and noticed his grandmother wasn't with him. Neville had a serious expression on his face. "Why did you tell my Gran about my wand?"
Harry gazed around Diagon Ally, taking in the happy expressions of everyone around. It would be difficult, but he wanted to make sure that they never had to experience the darkness of Voldemort again.
"Do you know why we go to Ollivander's?" Harry asked after a few moments. Neville's brows creased in confusion and he shook his head. "Because we'll never reach our full potential unless we use a wand that matches us fully. I tried over a hundred wands in Ollivander's before I got mine." Harry took out his holly wand and flicked it, causing gold and scarlet sparks to fly from the tip. The warmth of a good match thrummed with his very magic and his wand felt warm in his hand. "A lot of them felt like a match until I got this wand. It's an amazing experience, Neville, and you should have gotten the chance to get a wand of your own like everyone else. I might've spoken out of turn, but I know that you'll go one to do something great."
The expression on Neville's face was a mixture of things; bewilderment, thoughtfulness, and the most surprising, gratitude.
"You really think I'll do something great?" asked Neville in a quiet voice.
Harry smiled at his friend. "I know you will." Neville didn't seem to know what to do with such a sincere statement.
"I-Thank you, Harry." Harry just shrugged. Neville would have found that out eventually, he was just speeding up the process. "Do you want to come see me get my wand?"
Harry just shook his head. "It's a special thing, that. You can show me your new, powerful wand on the Express," said Harry. Neville grinned and went to join his grandmother, who was glaring over at them from Ollivander's, likely trying to get them to speed up their conversation.
Harry wandered around Diagon aimlessly, Hedwig perched at his shoulder. She'd come back just a day ago after he'd first sent out her to deliver letters to Ron and Hermione and she refused to leave him alone after that.
"Fancy some mice?" Harry asked her as he caught sight of the Magical Menagerie. Hedwig's answer was to push off his shoulder and to fly into the shop via the window made specifically for owls. Harry just shook his head and followed after her, a little chime announcing his presence.
There was a flash of orange in his vision and only Harry's skill as a seeker allowed him to catch the flying rocket. He stumbled back in surprise as said rocket began to rub against him and purr.
"Crookshanks!" the witch behind the counter cried out. "Oh, I'm so sorry, he usually doesn't do that."
Harry pet the furry behemoth and shrugged. "He's fine," said Harry, scratching beneath the squash-nosed cat's chin. Crookshanks purred and Harry grinned at the cat. The cat had always taken a strange liking to him, sometimes even favouring his lap over Hermione's.
"Well," the witch sighed. "What can I help you with? Looking for a new pet?"
Harry shook his head. "No, I've just come to get my owl some mice," said Harry, nodding to Hedwig who flew over to him at his attention on her. She stared down at Crookshanks but didn't appear to care about his presence in Harry's arms otherwise.
"Of course," said the attendant. She grabbed a bag of Stunned mice for him and Harry hesitated for a moment before he set Crookshanks down. The half-Kneazle mrowed at him, making Harry feel ridiculously guilty. Hermione would be here to buy him in two weeks. It shouldn't be that long, but… Crookshanks had launched himself at him and the witch had said that the cat usually didn't do that, which Harry knew from the few years he'd known Crookshanks in his past timeline. The shop attendant had said so, too.
"How long has he been here?" Harry asked, running a hand along the cat's spine.
The witch took on a sad expression. "Around twelve or so years," she said. "He just showed up one day, not long after the fall of You-Know-Who."
Harry continued to pet the cat but sighed as he thought of what he was about to do. "I'd like to take him," he said. Crookshanks, ever the intelligent cat, erupted in thrumming purrs at his statement. Harry couldn't help but smile at the orange beast as he bunted his head against his hand.
The witch looked surprised. "Are you sure?" she said, hesitant. "We don't know much about Crookshanks other than he's at least twelve years old and part-Kneazle."
Harry shrugged. "He seems to like me and I've heard that Kneazles are quite intelligent and know the difference between a trustworthy person and a non-trustworthy person. That will come in handy," said Harry, brushing aside his bangs to reveal his scar.
The witch's eyes widened in surprise but she didn't blubber like any of his 'fans' did, which he appreciated. "Of, course, Mr Potter," said the witch in understanding. "Half-Kneazles are usually ten Galleons, but since he's been here a while you can have him for five."
"Thanks," said Harry, passing over the Galleons. He also resigned himself to purchasing Crookshanks a bed, a scratching post, a self-cleaning litter box, some more Stunned mice and cat food, as well as a brush to prevent shedding. All-in-all, Harry left the shop twenty Galleons lighter than he'd expected, but with a new companion at his heels.
As Harry soon found out, Crookshanks Crookshanks followed after him like a rather fluffy bodyguard, always sitting up high as he kept his vigil. His great yellow eyes followed everyone suspiciously and Harry once caught sight of him spitting and hissing at someone who'd attempted to steal one of his books. Crookshanks also provided comfort that even Hedwig had never truly managed. The owl didn't like to be pet much but Crookshanks, on the other hand, enjoyed the attention Harry paid him. Once, when he'd awoken to a nightmare of his time hunting Horcrux, Crookshanks had sat on his chest and purred loudly, calming him.
Out of all of this, Draco's reaction to the great orange cat was perhaps the best.
"What the hell is that?" he said when he caught sight of Crookshanks. Harry grinned at Draco and scratched Crookshanks's rump.
"My new half-Kneazle," said Harry. "Isn't he great?" Draco sat down across from Harry warily, eyes on the great yellow ones staring him down.
"A great big ugly cat, yeah," muttered Draco. Harry didn't bother hiding a smile when Crookshanks hissed furiously.
"You know," said Harry idly, "I'd have thought you'd learn your lesson after Buckbeak."
Draco sent Harry a withering glare.
For some reason, Crookshanks seemed to adore Draco, despite their not-so-stable first meeting. Not long after they began to discuss third and fourth year in-depth, Crookshanks had lept out of Harry's lap and into Draco's.
"Traitor," Harry grumbled, though he really wasn't that upset that Crookshanks had left him. Crookshanks merely mrowed and curled up on a frozen Draco's lap.
"Potter," said Draco in a hissed breath, "get your beast off me."
Harry snickered. "I think he likes you," he said with an amused smile. Draco adjusted to Crookshanks's presence enough, and Harry was amused to catch him running his fingers through the cat's long, fluffy fur when he thought Harry wasn't looking.
"Harry! HARRY!"
Harry grinned at Ron and Hermione and jogged over to them. Despite knowing that they weren't the Ron and Hermione that he had ended up sharing a tent in the Forest of Dean with, he was happy to see them. It was strange to see them now, though. Ron was lankly, no longer having the bulk that the Auror Academy had built up, and Hermione's hair was as bushy as ever as she hadn't learned how to tame her wild curls yet. They both sported tans, much like Harry, and freckles stood out on their faces and arms.
"Finally!" said Ron, grinning over his ice cream. "We went to the Leaky Cauldron, but they said you'd left, and we went to Flourish & Blotts, and Madam Malkin's, and—"
"I got my school stuff the day after I got here," Harry cut Ron off, amused to see his excited chattering.
"Did you really blow up your aunt, Harry?" asked Hermione in that serious tone of hers. Harry hid a smile as Ron roared in laughter. Though he'd been extremely furious at the time, he always looked back on that event in amusement.
"I didn't mean to," he defended himself. "And she's not really my aunt. She was insulting my parents and stuff and I guess I just lost control."
"It's not funny, Ron," said Hermione sharply. "Honestly, I'm amazed Harry wasn't expelled."
"It was accidental magic," Harry told her. "I wouldn't have been expelled for that." Originally, he'd been confused and surprised that he hadn't been expelled from Hogwarts for blowing up Marge, but after learning magical laws in the Academy, he learned that you couldn't blame a child for accidental magic even if that child was Hogwarts aged. It wasn't unexpected for kids to have a few outbursts as their magic fluctuated and stabilized.
"You shouldn't have lost control," said Hermione with a frown. "That could've been extremely dangerous."
Harry felt a pang of annoyance. It wasn't like he'd meant to lose control, and that's what he told Hermione. "She called my mother a bitch, Hermione," said Harry sharply. "And you can't control accidental magic, especially when you're emotional."
Hermione was so surprised that she didn't bother to scold him for his language and Ron's face turned red. "Wait, she called your mum a bitch?" he growled, furious for him.
"Inadvertently, yeah," said Harry with a frown. He was still a little angry at that. All Marge knew about his parents was whatever rubbish Vernon and his aunt told her, all of which was false.
"That's horrible!" gasped Hermione, over her anger at the fact that Harry had lost control. "She shouldn't have said that."
Harry shrugged. He'd learned to tune Marge out as a child, but when he learned the truth of his parents, the false lies she spat on him had made him snap.
"I'm surprised you guys left your school shopping for so late," said Harry, trying to change the subject. "Well, not you, Ron, but Hermione. I thought you'd jump at the chance to get some more books."
"We just got back from Egypt," explained Ron. "We're staying at the Leaky Cauldron, though, so you can come to King's Cross with us tomorrow! Hermione's there as well!"
Hermione nodded, beaming. "Mum and Dad dropped me off this morning with all my Hogwarts things. We got in late last night or I would've been here yesterday."
"Great! So, have you got all of your books and stuff?"
"Look at this," said Ron, pulling out a long thin box and brandishing his new wand happily. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail hair! Also, the strangest thing happened when we went to get our books. Apparently, we were the hundred thousandth customer or something, so my family got all of our books for free! Mum was so happy that she nearly cried."
A grin spread across Harry's face and he congratulated Ron, happy that the assistant had done as he'd asked.
"What about you, Hermione?" said Harry, nodding to the three bulging bags beside her. "Got some extra reading?" Ron snickered at that as Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm taking more subjects than you two," said Hermione. "Those are my books for Arithmancy, care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, Muggle Studies—"
As Harry expected and remembered, Ron made a comment about Hermione taking extra studies, especially Muggle Studies since she was a Muggleborn.
"I've still got ten Galleons," said Hermione, ignoring them. "It's my birthday in September, and Mum and Dad gave me some money to get myself an early birthday present."
"How about a nice book?" said Ron innocently.
"No, I don't think so," Hermione dismissed him. "I really want an owl. I mean, Harry's got Hedwig and you've got Errol—"
"I haven't," corrected Ron with a scowl. "Errol's a family owl. All I've got is Scabbers." Harry gripped the edge of his seat until his knuckles cracked as Ron brought the fat rat out from his pocket. He hadn't forgotten about Pettigrew, and while he would rather kill the bloody rat, he knew that he couldn't just yet. While he knew Pettigrew's reveal would likely cause unforeseen events, he would not allow Sirius to remain on the run being hunted like a dog. Draco hadn't agreed with Harry but had been unable to sway his decision. Harry was not going to let his godfather sit in a house to the point where he got suicidal. If that meant that the future would change, then so be it.
"I don't think Egypt agreed with him," Ron continued, oblivious to Harry's invisible fury. Pettigrew, due to the news of Sirius's escape, was much thinner than normal and his fur was patchy in places. Harry was not above being pleased with the rat's miserable state.
"The Magical Menagerie is over there," said Harry dutifully, though he wanted nothing to do with helping Pettigrew's health. "I got Hedwig some mice from there. They have rat tonic and Hermione can get her owl."
Harry paid for their ice cream as a good friend did (though Fortescue tried to wave it, used to Harry's presence in his shop from when he'd done his homework) and they headed across the street to the pet shop.
Leaning against an empty space of wall, Harry gazed around the shop as Hermione went to browse the minimal owl selection and Ron went up to the counter.
"It's my rat," Ron told the same witch that Harry had spoken to a few days ago. "He's been a bit off-colour ever since I brought him back from Egypt."
"Bang him on the counter," said the witch, pulling a pair of glasses from her pocket.
Harry, not wanting to hear more about 'Scabbers', headed over to Hermione. She was gazing up at an ill-mannered screech owl in contemplation.
"Eyelops has specially-bred post owls," Harry told her. "I got Hedwig from there."
"We can go over there once Ron gets his tonic, then."
They got to the counter just as the witch was finishing explaining how the rat tonic worked. She glanced up and caught Harry's eye with a smile.
"How's Crookshanks doing?" she asked.
"He's doing great, thanks," said Harry. "He prefers the shelf in my room than the bed I bought him, though."
The witch chuckled. "He likes high spaces, that's why his cage was near the ceiling. Anyway, feel free to stop by if he needs anything."
"I will, thanks," said Harry, taking his leave.
"Harry, you bought another pet?" said Hermione in surprise once they were out of the shop. "What about Hedwig? And you're not allowed two pets at Hogwarts, you know."
"You're allowed to have another pet if you've got an owl," Harry told Hermione, "and I came in here to get Hedwig some mice and Crookshanks lept at me, practicality begging me to buy him. He's been in that shop for over a decade."
Hermione, who had been gearing up for a tirade, faltered at that last bit. "Oh, well, that's brilliant then. What is he?"
"A half-Kneazle," said Harry with a grin. While Hermione looked intrigued, Ron, however, was horrified.
"A cat?" Ron cried. "Mate, I have a rat!"
"Don't worry, Ron, Crookshanks is smart. He won't attack anyone's pets," Harry reassured him, though inside, he wished Crookshanks could terrorize the rat a bit. He'd just have to specify that they'd have to play nice when Ron was out of view…
Ron still looked doubtful but dropped the subject as they approached Eyelops. Ron elected to stay outside as 'Scabbers' didn't need any stress. Harry, not wanting to see Pettigrew any longer than he had to, followed Hermione into the dark shop. Owls of varying sizes and species sat on perches and within cages in the shop. Some glared down at them while others slumbered.
"What species are you looking for?" Harry asked Hermione.
"A barn or eagle owl," Hermione answered as she gazed around curiously.
It didn't take Hermione long to select an owl—a barn owl with beautiful copper wings and shrewd orange eyes—and they joined the rest of Ron's family in the Leaky Cauldron.
"Harry!" Ron's dad greeted from where he sat at the bar reading the Daily Prophet. "How are you?"
"Fine, thanks," said Harry before he nodded to the paper with Sirius's face plastered on it. "They haven't caught him, then?"
"No," said Mr Weasley, looking very grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs as the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."
"If he got out of Azkaban, it's unlikely that they'll catch him," said Harry. "Azkaban's supposed to be impossible to get out of, isn't it?"
"It's supposed to be."
It was at that moment that Mrs Weasley entered the pub, laden down with shopping bags, and followed by the rest of her children. Harry flinched at the sight of Fred and he swallowed thickly. He knew that Fred was alive, but after over a year of him being dead, it was hard to reconcile with that fact.
Ginny went red at the sight of Harry and barely said a word, reminding Harry that it'd only been a few months since he'd saved her from the Chamber of Secrets. It also reminded him that this Ginny was not the one that he'd come to know; the one that he'd dated, the one that he'd broken up with, the one that he'd become friends with. And she would never be that Ginny, for he had no intention in getting involved with her. He'd learned, after trying to patch things up after the war, that they were simply not meant to be.
"Harry," said Percy, holding his hand out for a solemn handshake as if they'd never met before. "How nice to see you."
Harry took Percy's hand with a "Hello, Percy" and he made a mental note to try and reconcile with him. They'd never been on good terms ever since he'd chosen the Ministry over his family, despite the fact that he'd tried to make up for that fact.
"I hope you're well?" said Percy pompously.
"I am, thanks—"
"Harry!" said Fred eagerly, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. "Simply splendid to see you, old boy—"
"Marvelous," said George solemnly, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry's hand turn. "Absolutely spiffing."
Percy scowled at their mocking and Mrs Weasley said, "That's enough now."
"Mum!" said Fred as though he'd only just spotted, and he grabbed her hand in a handshake, too. "How really corking to see you—"
Even as Mrs Weasley scolded them, something eased in Harry's chest at the sight of the twins, both alive and whole.
"Hello, Harry, dear," said Mrs Weasley. "I suppose you've heard our exciting news?" She gestured to the badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" Mrs Weasley was positively swelling in pride.
"Congratulations, Percy, you deserve it," said Harry sincerely even as Fred and George defended the fact that either one of them hadn't been made prefects. Ginny giggled at their complaining that being prefects took the fun out of life.
"You want to set a better example for your sister!" snapped Mrs Weasley.
"Ginny's got other brothers to set her an example, Mother," said Percy loftily. "I'm going up to change for dinner…" He left and George told him how they tried to shut him in a pyramid, which was somewhat amusing.
Dinner that night was quite possibly the best Harry had had in a long time. The food was brilliant, but it was the company that made Harry's heart swell. Here was his family, whole and untouched by Voldemort's second rise, and it only increased his determination to make sure that they all survived this time.
"How're we getting to King's Cross tomorrow, Dad?" Fred asked Mr Weasley.
"The Ministry's providing a couple of cars," said Mr Weasley, making everyone look at him in surprise.
"Why?" asked Percy.
"It's because of my godfather, isn't it?" said Harry solemnly, refusing to play ignorant this time. Fred and George, about to take the mickey out of Percy once more, fell silent with the rest of their family.
"What?" said Hermione, the only one who didn't know that Sirius was Harry's godfather.
"Sirius Black," Harry decided to enlighten her. "He was named my godfather, but he was put in Azkaban for betraying my parents to Voldemort." As much as Harry despised saying the words, everyone knew this to be the truth. He would appear mad if he said otherwise.
The table was completely silent.
"You know?" said Mrs Weasley shrilly, a hand covering her mouth. Harry just nodded and Mr Weasley sighed.
"Yes, Harry, the Ministry's providing cars because of Black," said Mr Weasley.
"I figured," said Harry. The remainder of dinner was awkward and they were all ordered up to their rooms to pack and get to bed not long after. Despite not being Mrs Weasley's child, and being mentally in his twenties, Harry did not protest.
Harry had already packed most of his stuff and it was not long before he heard Ron and Percy yelling at one another.
"It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing—" Percy was saying scathingly.
"I haven't touched it, all right?" Ron roared back.
"What's going on?" Harry asked, leaning against the doorway.
"My Head Boy badge is gone," said Percy.
"So's Scabbers's rat tonic," Ron added, digging through his trunk for it. "I think I might've left it in the bar—"
Harry, to escape the yelling, offered to get the tonic. It was not long before he reached the parlour, where he heard Mr and Mrs Weasley speaking.
"—he shouldn't know!" said Mrs Weasley mournfully. "Who would've told him that?"
"It's only right that he knows," said Mr Weasley. "He's got a right to know but I don't know how he did. Fudge insisted on treating Harry like a child when I tried to talk to him—"
"He must be terrified!" said Mrs Weasley shrilly. "That poor boy's going to go back to school with that hanging over him. I would rather him not know!"
Not wanting to hear them argue any longer, Harry summoned Ron's rat tonic and headed upstairs, where he saw Fred and George crouching on the landing, laughing silently to themselves.
"I figured it was you two who took it," said Harry when they showed him the modified Bighead Boy badge. He just shook his head, passed Ron his rat tonic, and went to his room to sleep. Tomorrow would begin a very complex year in which Harry tried to get Sirius exonerated and tried to convince the school proper as a whole that he and Malfoy were now friends.
With a shake of his head, he laid on his bed where Crookshanks was curled up, and fell asleep despite the yelling of Ron and Percy next door.