Year Seven: Security Question

Bill walked over to the sideboard and pulled out a bottle of fire-whisky and some glasses.

"Here," he said, and with a wave of his wand, he sent twelve full glasses soaring through the room to each of them, holding the thirteenth aloft. "Mad-Eye."

"Mad-Eye," they all said, and drank.

A loud roar of a motorcycle disrupted the silence. Instinctively, they all looked towards the front door.

The roar died down. A pause… and a knock on the door. Wands rose. Harry had a sinking feeling. Again. "…Who's there?"

"Me."

"Helpful."

Ron and Hermione shared a long-suffering sigh. Hermione, reluctantly, spoke up. "What was the first thing you said to me when we met?"

Harry swore he heard the grin from through the door. "I called you cute, asked if you wanted to be the Library to my Alexandria, talked at length about how I'd soon have a junk, and commented on you and Ron eventually making an adorable couple. Then I spent several minutes trying to ship you with him. And then-"

"Okay! Okay! It's you! Get in!"

The door opened, admitting the grinning girl, still wearing the helmet. She took in the scene.

"…You know, I kind of expected George to be just holey, not 'armless. That's new. Moody still dead?"

…In retrospect, Harry really shouldn't have been surprised at her knowing everything. Again.