Chapter 3
It was three days later when Harry was able to tackle his project again. Mrs. Weasley had made a comment to him about not coming around as much with Ginny and Ron gone and she missed his company. So, instead of going to Grimmauld Place after work, he'd spent time at the Weasley home.
He felt like it was the least he could do to make her happy. Mrs. Weasley had always been kind to him, and in the end, it cost her a son. Fred and George were always good to him, and he felt bad that Fred was gone. Mr. Weasley looked ten years older and Charlie barely wrote home. Percy, ever ambitious and as driven as a niffler after a shiny new galleon, rarely came home for meals. Bill and Fleur were still present, but being married, they didn't come around as often as they used to. Harry understood. Mrs. Weasley was lonely.
Knowing full well how she felt about him, Harry felt an obligation towards Ron's mom. He dutifully went by at least once a week, with or without Ginny or Ron. He let her fuss over him, making comments about his hair, being too thin, being worked too hard at the Ministry, and feed him. Always, she was putting food down in front of Harry, and he ate it whether he was hungry or not. It didn't hurt that Mrs. Weasley was easily the best cook he knew.
Then Charlie got hurt in Romania. He took a dragon's tail across the chest and had three broken ribs and a bruised lung as a result. So Mr. and Mrs. Weasley took off for Romania to look after their son. Harry took the opportunity to stay home, relax, and work on his project.
Secretly, he was grateful for the chance to work on things though he was sorry Charlie got hurt. It just meant that he'd be able to finish it that much sooner. And to do that, tonight he'd have to set to work.
There had been a good development though. He'd been in Scotland, up near Loch Ness investigating reports of an Inferi, Harry and two other Aurors had set off to Inverness and investigated as they'd been directed to do. They searched high and low, interviewing wizards and witches in town (there was a surprising number of them), and stumbled across something much more mundane than an Inferi. What had been reported as a magically animated corpse was instead a poor old witch's boggart.
The poor old lady had survived both wizarding wars by staying out of it all, but her children had disappeared for a time, and her boggart was one or both of them coming back as an Inferi and trying to kill her. Another wizard had seen the boggart when going to visit, mistook the form it took for something far more dangerous, and alerted Ministry officials.
By luck, it was Harry's team that was assigned, and minus Ron, they'd been dispatched to investigate and if the report was valid, terminate the creature immediately. It was while they were moving through the village that Harry passed a small rock and gem shop. Normally, he'd have just passed it by like any other of a hundred shops in a hundred other villages, hamlets, and towns. Except this one had a huge crystal in the window. It must have measured three feet long and nearly eighteen inches wide at the base. It was in a matrix, so there were other, much smaller crystals surrounding the larger one. It sat on its own base and leaned slightly to one side. Harry knew immediately it was the one he wanted.
A quick trip to Gringotts to remove some gold from his account and exchange it for muggle money gave Harry what he needed to go back and purchase the crystal, which now sat on a side table in the drawing room near the large stump. Harry sat down and pondered the things in front of him, trying to decide on how he wanted to proceed. Seeing as how transfiguration was never his best subject, he decided to start with the crystal.
Standing up, Harry walked over to the table, picked up the large quartz crystal and hefted it. It was a little heavier than it looked like it should be, but that fit with the idea of things. It wasn't cracked, but neither was it clear. More that it looked like there was some kind of haze inside it. Also fitting, Harry thought. It would lend to the effect he wanted it to have.
Taking out his wand, Harry waved it while uttering an incantation. The wand flashed an azure brilliance, and the crystal followed immediately thereafter. Stepping back, he checked the effect. It definitely had a blue cast to it, but not nearly dark enough. Not for what he wanted. So Harry repeated the incantation again. Then again, and a fourth time for good measure. Kneeling down for a careful look, he peered into the large crystal, and surveyed his handiwork. The coloring was even and a deep, dark cobalt blue color. The smaller crystals surrounding the larger one had also taken on some blue coloring but not nearly to the same extent. Harry decided he liked the effect. Now it was time to work on the stump, but first something to eat.
It was as he was sitting down to some hot onion soup and a corned beef sandwich that Tolly, his Eurasian Eagle Owl, and Hedwig's successor, came flying in through the chimney. He landed lightly on the table with a note tied to his leg. Right away, Harry recognized George's handwriting. With nimble fingers, Harry removed the note and gave Tolly a bit of meat from his sandwich. The owl brushed his hand with his wing as he took the proffered meat and flew over to his perch near the stove. Harry smiled at this, then turned to the note in his hand.
"Harry," it read, "was wondering if you could come over to the joke shop for a spot of tea tomorrow afternoon? Anytime after five would be fine. Hoping your well, George."
Using his wand to call his quill and ink, Harry replied, "I'll be there tomorrow. Thanks! Harry"
He then held up the parchment for Tolly to see. The owl was large, regal, and even majestic in it's bearing. It looked at him, then flew over to the well scrubbed table and extended a leg. Harry carefully rolled the note and attached it, then watched as his owl took off, flying back up the chimney and into the night. Harry sighed as he finished his soup and sandwich, then returned to the drawing room. There was still loads of work to do.
By the time he went to bed, Harry was frustrated. His transfiguration was far enough along to be able to pass his OWLs, and even the NEWT level exam Kingsley Shacklebolt had made him take garnered a passing grade, but for all of that, the stump still didn't look anything like what he wanted. He did successfully remove the bark, and then the dirt and other debris from around it on the floor. But that was really as far as he'd gotten. Now, there was a misshapen, wood-colored object in the drawing room that no longer resembled the tree it came from, but neither did it resemble the pedestal he wanted for his little project. He was starting to feel like everything was going to be much more effort than it was worth. He sighed heavily as he put his glasses next to his wand on the bedside table, rolled over, and went to sleep.
The next day passed by quickly enough. Harry was up and dressed quickly. He ate something, sent a letter off to Hagrid and another to Ginny at the Harpies training camp before setting off to work. He deliberately avoided looking into the drawing room on his way out.
At the Ministry, Harry went through his morning mail, attended two meetings, and sat through a short lecture on the appropriate use of memory charms as they applied to muggles. He ran through all the paperwork on his desk, and then prepared his reports for his team's activities throughout the week. The problem was, this only took him until lunch. It was an otherwise quiet day in the Auror's office at the Ministry of Magic, and he couldn't help but feel like he was wasting his time there with nothing to do. An observation that must've been shared by Kingsley Shacklebolt, because he suggested Harry take off early and that he only needed to check in the next day.
Feeling like there was no use arguing, Harry gathered his cloak and wand, then prepared to go home. He decided to stop in Diagon Alley on the way. Maybe one of the bookshops would have something he could use. It was then he remembered his appointment with George at the joke shop. Groaning at his absentmindedness, Harry apparated to the entrance and then set off down the way. If he hurried, he'd be able to get a few things before it was time for tea.
Harry arrived at the joke shop just a few minutes early. George spotted him right away and waved. Harry smiled and spent a minute perusing the joke shop. Remembering how it got started, it made him slightly uncomfortable being there. More so upon seeing things like Nosebleed Nougat or the Extendable Ears. Memories of Fred were everywhere, locked away in each thing the shop sold. Then he saw the picture.
Above the counter where one couldn't help but see it, was a large portrait of Fred, smiling down on the customers. He nodded at Harry and winked at him. He jumped when a gentle hand landed on his shoulder. "I miss him so much."
Harry turned to see George, half smiling at Harry. "Glad you could make it, mate."
"Sure. I was coming down this way anyway for a bit of shopping." Harry replied, holding up his bags.
George smiled and looked at Harry. His eyes going between his friend to the portrait of his brother. In a somber voice George went on, "I miss him so much."
Not knowing what to say, Harry simply smiled and nodded. That seemed to be the right thing to do, however, because George's smile in return was warm and grateful. "Let's go upstairs, shall we?"
Harry followed George upstairs and into the flat he used to share with Fred. Here, too, was another portrait of the deceased Weasley brother. Harry couldn't help but smile at the portrait when Fred crossed his eyes and pulled a face at him. George grinned up at him. "Just like you wanted, brother. I'm talking to Harry."
Just like Fred wanted? What's this? Harry thought. He turned to look at George and saw him looking back at him. "Have a seat, Harry."
Harry found an empty spot on the sofa and sat down. George pulled a pouf chair around and reclined back on it with a deep sigh.
"What's going on, George?" Harry said.
"Nothing's wrong, if that's what you're asking," He began by way of answer, "It just crossed our minds before the whole Hogwarts thing that we never got a chance to thank you properly for the help you gave us in the beginning."
Harry's blank expression made George laugh, "I know, you said you didn't want anything to do with the winnings when you won that tournament, but the shop turned out way better than we could've imagined."
"That's good, isnt' it? I reckon people need reasons to laugh." Harry replied.
"You're right there, mate. Even now, people could do with a bit of fun every now and then, I think." George said.
Feeling thoroughly confused, Harry ran a hand through his already untidy hair. "I…uh…I'm not exactly sure what this has to do with me."
George's smile tightened a bit, and some of the humor left his eyes. "Well, it's like this. The shop is successful. Very successful. It's more than I can really do alone. I don't suppose you want in on it?"
"Hang on," Harry said, "I thought you had help. Or am I mistaken?"
"Part time help, and not very ambitious help at that." George said. "She doesn't really have any vision, and hasn't expressed any interest in learning more than necessary to do her job. Don't get me wrong, Loranna's happy to be here and does a good enough job. She just doesn't want to do more."
Harry took a deep breath, thinking very carefully how to word his response. "George, I haven't got any idea about running a joke shop. I'm an Auror. An Auror's all I ever wanted to be."
At the crestfallen expression that befell his face, Harry quickly added, "You could try Ron, though. He might like the idea of helping out in the shop."
"I didn't think he was interested."
"That was before…well, Fred…but that doens't mean he couldn't change his mind." Harry replied quickly.
George seemed to think it over for a minute then smiled. "Maybe. I could ask him, I reckon. Worst he can do is say no."
Harry smiled back at George, and relaxed for a bit. The late afternoon sun streamed through a gap in the curtains, giving light to the occasional dust mote in the air. Then a cat Harry recognized jumped down from a shelf where he'd been hidden causing him to jump.
"Crookshanks?"
"Clearly," George said dryly, "What other cat looks like that?"
"But, wait, I thought…" Harry stammered.
"Well he couldn't go with Ron and Hermione, could he? And Mum and Dad aren't home to take care of him. Ginny's off training with the Harpies, and Percy's too busy to do anything for anyone right now, or so he says." George grinned, enjoying Harry's reaction.
"I guess not. I wonder why they didn't ask me?" he wondered aloud.
"You mean besides the fact you've got a mental house elf who, your job at the Ministry, and this mysterious thing you've been working on?" George's face was innocent, but his eyes spoke volumes.
"Umm…" Harry began.
"About that," George went on, "care to shed some light?"
"It's not what you think," Harry began quickly.
"It never is, but how do you know what I'm thinking?"
Harry felt the look of confusion but also felt powerless to do anything about it. He didn't want to give away what he was working on, and was dismayed that he'd not done a better job of covering things up. He ran his finger through his hair.
"Look," Harry sighed, going with a small portion of the truth,"I can't tell you now. I will let you in on it when I can, I'll let everyone in on it all. I just can't right now."
George's face clouded over. His brows knit together and his eyes took on a very uncharacteristic glare. His hands balled into fists and he took a deep breath. "Look, Mate, last time you did this, you, Hermione, and my brother all took off and no one saw you for months on end. No one was allowed to ask any questions, we just had to kind of accept it and let you lot move on. I'm tired of the secrets."
Crookshanks jumped into Harry's lap and settled down while the two men stared at each other. Harry knew that George was right, but he also felt deep down that it would be better for everyone to show them what he was working on when it was finished. He didn't want to set any expectations, nor did he want to have to withstand their looks of disappointment if things didn't work out. He sighed.
"Look, George, no one is going off anywhere. No one is doing anything on the run." He then went on with what little he felt he could reveal. "What I'm working on is for you. Well, you, Ron, Hermione, your parents, and everyone else. I can't tell you more than that. I won't. But you'll see it soon enough." He finished.
"Damn it, Harry…" George replied, slapping the arm of his chair. Crookshanks looked at them both reproachfully before leaping down off Harry's knees and slinking into another room.
"I'm sorry, George, I know that's not what you want to hear, but if it all works out, it will be worth it. I promise." Harry's note of finality gave no room for argument.
The two continued staring at each other, breathing heavily. Then tipping half a grin at Harry, George asked, "No one's going anywhere?"
"No." Harry answered.
"You're not planning on doing anything rash?"
"Only if you call working on a project at home rash."
"What about dangerous? Ginny'll kill me if she comes back from training camp and you're injured or worse." George's grin told Harry all he needed to know. It was over now. He could relax.
"Only if you call doing the kind of magic that I should have paid more attention to in school dangerous." Harry grinned.
"With that house elf of yours? Anything could be dangerous, mate."
"True enough, but I can't set him free, and he's a lot better than he was since Voldemort is gone." Harry said, noting the wince George made at hearing the name.
"I'm holding you to that, Harry. Nothing dangerous. No running off anywhere that you have to keep hidden. There's been too much of that already."
"I promise, George. Nothing dangerous. No runnng around the countryside. Just me and my little project."
George looked up at the portrait of Fred and smiled sadly. The portrait was busy mooning the two of them while trying to stand on his head. Harry could see the sadness in his friend's eyes. Soon enough, you'll know. You'll understand. I hope it'll help, Harry thought.