Chapter 5
Harry's knowledge of wizarding customs and traditions was expanding by leaps and bounds.
Phineas even undertook to school him in the Mind Arts.
"I'm not good at those," Harry said nervously.
"You weren't meant to be," Phineas informed him. "Dumbledore was well-aware you wouldn't learn anything from Snape."
"I see." Harry clenched his jaw.
"I thought you would," nodded Phineas.
Neville stepped out of the floo and reached to assist Luna.
He couldn't believe Harry had allowed them floo access to Twelve Grimmauld Place.
"It's because, despite what Dumbledore ordered, you both wrote to me," Harry explained.
"The Headmaster isn't always right," announced Luna. "Too many wrackspurts have addled his thinking."
"He told us to inform him if we heard from you," Neville mentioned. "We didn't though."
"Thanks," Harry said softly. "It's nice to know I have a few friends that I can count on."
Neville flushed with pleasure while Luna beamed.
"My roses need watering," Petunia Dursley complained. She hated it when her nephew was in her house, but there was no denying that his presence eased the workload.
Since he'd been gone, she had to do all the cooking and cleaning herself. She didn't mind that so much…after all, she'd done it while he was away at that freakish school. However, during the summer she wanted her garden to look pristine, not overgrown, withering, and weed-infested!
Vernon looked up from the dinner table and grunted around a mouthful of sausage.
"Did you hear something?"
Petunia's sour mood evaporated. "It's got so dark! Looks like there's going to be a thunderstorm, and rain will revive the roses."
"I don't know about that, seems like it's gotten cold all of a sudden."
"Huh! Looks like a couple of muggles got themselves kissed," commented Andromeda Tonks. "Someplace in Surrey."
"Let me see that." Her daughter snatched the Daily Prophet from her mother, and gasped. "That's the place the Potter brat's relatives live!"
"Are you certain?" Ted asked.
"Positive, I've patrolled the street often enough! It says only an older couple was discovered though, so where's Potter?"
"Better let Dumbledore know immediately," advised Andromeda.
But Dumbledore was away, at a meeting with Antoine Delacour.
"I understand the difficulty, Albus," said Delacour sympathetically. "Nevertheless, my hands are tied. I cannot intervene unless the British Minister makes an official request."
"That will happen soon." Dumbledore was supremely confident. "Now that everyone realizes I was telling the truth, Fudge is about to be hounded from office."
"Who will replace him?"
Dumbledore smiled. "Anyone would be an improvement."
"As you say, Albus."
"I want to sit with Draco," announced Astoria Greengrass rebelliously, as soon as the sisters boarded the train.
"You'd be better off staying with me," her sister murmured. "We can work on our lists!"
"I thought you wouldn't do that until we get to school."
Daphne shrugged. "We can get started. Grandfather wants a rota of five potential matches, with the advantages and disadvantages of each."
"No! I intend to marry Draco, and I'm going to find him!" Astoria flounced out of the car, almost bumping into Millicent Bulstrode.
"I heard her," Millie told Daphne. "Draco is with Pansy, three cars up."
Sure enough, in minutes a sullen Astoria rejoined them. Pansy tolerated no interlopers.
"We'd better get to the prefect carriage, Ron," ordered Hermione.
"Hey Gin, where are you going?" her brother inquired.
"Meeting Dean Thomas," Ginny tossed over her shoulder.
"But what about Harry?"
Ginny was already gone.
"We'll find him later." Hermione led the way to the front.
"Yeah, but I hope he won't be mad because we never answered his letters."
"You know what Professor Dumbledore said."
"'Course I do," admitted Ron. "Still, I don't feel right about it."
Ron was increasingly ill-at-ease as the meeting droned on. If he were honest, he really didn't like being a prefect: constant patrols, and staying up late just to roust people out of broom closets and empty classrooms! Prefects were never popular. He'd resign if he thought he could get away with it, but his parents wouldn't understand.
Finally it ended, and Hermione grabbed his arm. "Now we can find Harry; he'll understand why we couldn't write."
A gloomy Ron followed her.
"Hi Ron! How was summer break?" Lavender Brown smiled at him as she made her way back from the trolly. "Want a chocolate frog?"
"Thanks, Lavender." Ron accepted with a smile. He'd never really paid much attention to Lavender, but she was quite pretty, with curly light hair and green eyes.
Furthermore, she was good-humored and friendly, not constantly nagging him like Hermione. He couldn't understand why he often felt compelled to trail after Hermione when he'd prefer to be doing something else.
"Ron!" Hermione was growing impatient. "What are you doing?"
He gave Lavender an apologetic shrug, and caught up to Hermione.
"What happened to you?" Hermione stood with her hands on her hips, firing questions at Harry. "Where's your glasses? How come you look so different? Why didn't you obey the Headmaster? It's dangerous to go off on your own!"
Harry said nothing. He'd never noticed before how shrill Hermione could sound.
"Well? Aren't you going to answer me?"
"No," was all Harry said, as the train pulled into Hogsmeade station.