A/N: EVERYTHING BUT THE "PLOT" BELONGS TO JK ROWLING.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter THREE: Flourish and Blotts
"I just don't understand," said Ron, looking at a piece of parchment that had been brought in
by an owl that was swooping over his head. "Why didn't Hermione write to me? She's been sending
plenty of letters to you since you borrowed Errol to deliver that first one that was a
response to your birthday card, but she doesn't so much as even ask about me."
"I'm sure she's just been busy and hasn't thought of it since your birthday isn't in the
middle of summer," Harry answered, trying to console Ron, whose face was getting redder by the
second.
"Just listen to this!" he said, his eyes bulging slightly. "'Bulgaria is fascinating,
Harry, you really ought to take a trip here in if you get the chance. Victor's home was built
in the late fifteenth century and has a history of being the residency of many great wizards,
including Daryl the Cross-Eyed, who redesigned the architecture. My mum was quite fascinated
at how there was two of everything, and says she wouldn't mind staying here longer except that
she keeps getting lost on her way to the table every morning.' Now really Harry, doesn't it
sound like she's doing more research about Krum's house then Bulgaria?"
Harry had to admit that it did sound like Hermione was engrossed in Krum and his home,
but it was none of his business, anyway. "Don't worry about it, Ron, she's left already. Why
don't you write to her and ask her if she wants to meet us when we go to Diagon Alley this
week?"
Ron looked as though this wasn't a bad idea. He immediately went over to his Hogwarts
trunk and began to rummage around inside it, looking for parchment, a quill, and some ink.
After he had found these things he sat down on his worn Chudley Cannons bedspread and began
to scribble, mumbling things like, "Ha! Try and ignore me now, Hermione!"
Harry looked out the window with the thought of another letter, one from Sirius. Three
weeks had passed since Harry's birthday and their was still no sign of a response, or of
Hedwig, for that matter. Was Sirius so far away that she couldn't reach him in a short amount
of time, or was there another reason? Now that he thought of it, the last he had heard from
his godfather had been a signed permission slip for Hogsmeade and a short note talking of the
most recent news on Voldemort; that had been right after school had gotten out. But Harry
didn't know what he could do other than wait, because he had already asked Mrs. Weasley, who,
being in the hospital wing last year after the Triwizard Tournament, had met the convicted
murderer. Mr. Weasley had been told of the circumstances, and Dumbledore frequently sent both
of them owls on Sirius' whereabouts and condition, although if the letter was intercepted,
Sirius was simply referred to as "Snuffles." Mrs. Weasley didn't know anything of Sirius'
present state, she told him regretfully, and Harry couldn't very well ask Ron's dad because
the man was hardly ever present at the Burrow, busy with work as he was. Harry tried to comfort
himself and Ron with the thought that if Dumbledore wasn't concerned, they had no right to be.
The week went by and Harry spent his time with Ron, practicing Wronski Feints and
Quidditch just the same as he would have had Hedwig returned with a note from Sirius. The day
that they were to leave for Diagon Alley approached and the whole of the Weasley troop got
themselves situated for their escapade. Right as he was checking the condition of his robes
for the coming term, however, Harry thought he heard something tapping on the window in an
irregular fashion, but couldn't be sure because of the racket that the ghoul was making
clanging on the pipes. He went over to check and sure enough, Hedwig was fluttering just
outside the glass, a torn and rather grubby piece of parchment tied to her leg. Harry threw
up the window and Hedwig soared in, landing on his outstretched arm and holding up a talon to
Harry wearily. He immediately pulled off the letter and opened it, calling to Ron, who was
loading socks into his cauldron.
Dear Harry,
Sorry to have worried you. I'm perfectly fine, I've just been on the move so much that it
probably took Hedwig a while to catch up with me. I'm doing some work for the ministry,
although indirectly, through Dumbledore.
Muggle killings have indeed started again; just the other day an entire family was
found dead by a "freak accident" as they put it in the Muggle papers. Seems that some wizards
– Death Eaters, no doubt – used the Avada Kedavra on everyone except for one witch, the
daughter of the Muggles, and apparently they modified her memory. The ministry is going to
have a hard time working through the charm . . . it takes a powerful wizard to use the Avada
Kedavra, as you know, so imagine how strongly her memory is modified! Besides that, such
an intense spell is very likely to injure her mind in the process, however we can only hope for
the best.
The reason that you haven't heard of this is because the ministry is trying to keep it
hushed up and the Daily Prophet has been ordered not to report the details of the deaths.
Goodness knows how the public would react to Voldemort being back and out killing again,
although the Wizarding World will have to learn the truth sometime. The loss has been
recognized, but I've not got any idea how long they'll try to keep it quiet.
I've been mainly using my Animagus form to spy and learn what I can . . . but I'm not
sure this cover will last much longer. Dumbledore has arranged for me to have an inconspicuous
hideout for the year that is close enough to Hogwarts for me to be able to get to the school
in an emergency. (Happily, it also has a good stock of food to keep me going.)
I'm sorry I haven't been able to get you a birthday present, Harry. I'll look into it as
soon as I can. And make sure to tell Dumbledore and myself if your scar hurts; it's more
important than you realize. Say hello to Ron and Hermione for me.
– Sirius
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he let the letter float down into his trunk. Ron, who
had been reading over his shoulder, was wearing a slight grin, despite the letter having bad
news in it. "Well what do you think of that?" he asked, picking up a pair of socks from where
he had dropped them on the floor. "He's got himself a job!"
"I don't know . . . . But what about those Muggles?" Harry said, frowning with thought.
"Do you reckon Lucius Malfoy is involved? After all, he is supposed to be in charge of
that sort of thing . . . . " Ron said, a bit of hope in his voice at getting Malfoy in trouble.
"Didn't your mum say the other day that he's busy at the ministry, trying to run against
your dad for Fudge's spot? But I suppose there are a lot of rumors going around about him too,
I mean, he doesn't totally keep his standing about those situations low-profile. But the
ministry doesn't believe that Vol – er – You-Know-Who's back, do they? They just think his
supporters are out there, right? . . . . Sort of like how the Dark Mark was shot up last year,
only worse."
"Yeah, that's right . . . . But I'm surprised the Muggle killings passed this quietly. You
would think that someone using the worst of the Unforgivable Curses would have caused more of
an outrage, you know, something that a reporter like Rita Skeeter would be on."
"If the Daily Prophet had been allowed to tell more about it, it probably would have been.
But the ministry has got to be in a bad state! They're most likely having the time of their
lives trying to break that memory charm."
Suddenly Ginny appeared at the door, flushing a little when Harry looked her straight in
the eyes. "Mum says it's time to go," she reported, then turned and retreated down the stairs
hurriedly.
Harry bent down and snatched Sirius' letter, pocketing it with a mind to show Hermione,
who had also sent them a note, saying that she would be able to meet them at Diagon Alley that
day. Ron grabbed his booklist that both of them would be able to use, then the pair of them
started down the steps.
The rest of the group: Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny, were already waiting, Ginny
having just stepped inside the fireplace with a pinch of Floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" she
shouted, then disappeared from the high green flames.
Fred and George went next, and finally Harry's turn came. He took a bit of the powder
and threw it into the fireplace, once again turning the shoots of flame an emerald hue. He
stepped inside the fire and felt only a warm breeze, then yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and was
quickly swept away.
He whirled around and around, a number of scenes flicking before his eyes until he saw
three red heads. He stepped forward at the same time the spinning stopped and found himself
next to the Weasleys, who were already sweeping themselves clean of ash with a brush. He
recognized the spot that they had landed in as the Leaky Cauldron, the merrily crackling fire
next to them part of a side chamber off the actual tavern.
After Fred had finished his brushing he handed the instrument to Harry, who completed
cleaning himself off as soon as Ron showed up, followed by Mrs. Weasley. When they had all
gotten the ash off of themselves, Mrs. Weasley started off down the street, closely trailed
by Ginny. "You boys go get your things," she called behind her. "And put the bill on our tab.
It'll be shorter that way. We'll meet back here in two hours."
Fred and George mysteriously sauntered off to the joke shop and Harry and Ron started for
Gringotts, that being where they had agreed to meet Hermione. They passed a few people they
knew: Lee Jordan, who was headed in the direction of the joke shop possibly to rendezvous with
Fred and George, Seamus Finnigan, looking taller than they had last seen him, Cho Chang, who
made Harry blush after she waved in his direction with a smile, and the Creevey brothers, both
of whom tugged on their father's hands to pull him into an introduction, which Harry quickly
slipped out of. In not too long of a time they had made it down the street to the bank, and
waiting on the steps with her parents was Hermione. She gave them her usual smile and addressed
them in the same slightly-bossy tone that she always did. "Hello Ron, hello, Harry. How were
your summers?"
"Just fine," said Harry; it appeared that Ron was having trouble swallowing so Harry
answered for him.
"Good," she said. "Mine was excellent too – Ron are you all right?" asked Hermione, giving
him a strange look.
Ron pulled at the neck of his robes. "Yeah," he managed to gasp.
"I still need to get my money from Gringotts," said Harry, his eyes switching between the
two. "Why don't you go have an ice cream or something."
"Sure," Hermione said, snatching the hem on Ron's sleeve and dragging him up the street.
"It looks like it'll do him good. We'll meet you there." She turned to her parents. "Mum, Dad,
why don't you come along?"
The older couple followed their daughter and Harry was left alone on the marble steps. He
entered Gringotts and by the time he had come out with his bag of money jingling, the sun had
gotten considerably higher in the sky than it had last been. He made his way back up the alley
toward Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to get Ron and Hermione and when he arrived the
two were sitting side by side, enjoying waffle cones and chatting. Ron stood up and tossed the
remainder of his away. "Ready, Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded and the three of them began
walking, Hermione turning to tell her parents that she would be back in about an hour.
All three of them ran their errands: Harry had to get new robes because he had grown so
much over the summer, Ron wanted to grab a new quill, and Hermione insisted that they stop and
buy something for Crookshanks. After browsing around the Magical Menagerie for a while and still
finding nothing, Hermione settled on a bag of cat treats that when fed to the feline were supposed to
make its fur stand on end and change color constantly for fifteen minutes.
They halted in front of the Apothecary and Harry refilled his supplies of jellyfish
poison, rat's teeth, and filed mountain goat horn, then the trio headed for Flourish and
Blotts.
"Let's see," said Ron, examining the list of books required. "THE STANDARD BOOK
OF SPELLS, GRADE FIVE and A GUIDE TO ADVANCED TRANSFIGURATION is all we
need," he told the other two. "I wonder why Professor Trelawny didn't tell us to get anything new for
Divination." He shrugged. "Old bat's probably too busy predicting our deaths that were supposed to
have happened over the summer."
With that he went off to get three copies of THE STANDARD BOOK OF SPELLS
and Harry looked around for the Transfiguration section, while Hermione occupied herself trying to
find a new Arithmancy book. Harry skimmed the floating signs above the aisles, pointing him in the
right direction. At the very end of the store was the Transfiguration label, suspended in the air. Harry
made his way down to it and turned into the rather darkened section to find that the schoolbooks were
all lined up on shelves at the far end. He pulled out three copies of the book he needed, and then started
back. Harry was about to turn the corner when a sudden blast of pain ripped through his forehead, his
scar suddenly screaming with life as though someone had heaved a white-hot branding iron down on
him. He dropped the books unconsciously and his hands flew to his scar, his vision starting to blur with
a pain that left him stumbling to his knees. He called out to Ron and continued to clutch his head. Then
all of a sudden the pain started to retreat slightly, as though the source was being taken away but the
damage done was continuing to flame on its own.
"Yeah Harry, what did you – Harry!" Harry lifted his gaze, still blurry as it was, to see
Ron stooped beside him, frantic. "Hold on, I'm going to get the shop keeper . . . "
"No, don't Ron," said Harry through clenched teeth. "Just wait here . . . it'll pass. Give me
a few seconds but don't leave."
"Right," said Ron, looking around anxiously to see if Hermione was close.
The pain was leaving Harry slowly and soon enough he was able to stand with just his head
throbbing violently. Ron picked up the books and Harry tried to look as though nothing had
happened. Hermione was already standing with her newly-bought books by the register, her face
showing agitation. "What took so long?" she demanded, tapping her foot slightly. Ron gave her
a dark glare and the impatience swept off her face.
By the time the trio had their books safely tucked away and had found a good corner along
the street in which they could talk without being noticed, Harry's scar was only barely aching.
He handed Hermione Sirius' letter. "Read this," he said.
She took the note and scanned it, then handed it back to Harry. "I wonder why they don't
get Dumbledore to break the memory charm?" she wondered aloud.
Harry answered. "Probably don't want anything to do with him. After all, Fudge is still
Minister of Magic and everyone – "
"All right, Harry, enough stalling," said Ron, giving him a slightly piercing look. "What
was that about your scar burning back there? And why couldn't I leave to go get help?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "That's why you two took so long to get the books? Harry, this is
serious, we can't just stand here and talk, we need to go get Mrs. Weasley!"
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said wearily. "You couldn't go get help, Ron, because I
didn't want whatever it was that made my scar react to come back from where it had disappeared
to when you came over . . . You know I don't have any idea what might have made my scar to hurt a
little but – "
Ron interrupted him again. "It was not just hurting a little, Harry. It was almost as bad
as that time in Divination!"
"In any case, we don't know what caused it. I mean it couldn't have been Voldemort, not
here. On the other hand, no one else could have done it . . . . . "
"In a bookshop, Harry? In the middle of the Wizarding Community? Not very likely," said
Ron skeptically.
"No one else could make my scar go off like that!" Harry persisted. "And think how easy
it would be for him if I was just by myself. It would be fast; it wouldn't need much planning."
"But if that was the case, how would he know that at one certain time you weren't going
to be protected? And why wouldn't he have tried it before?" asked Hermione.
"Well, he would only attack me now instead of before if he was really desperate to kill
me without royalties included, right? And he might be spying," Harry said guessing the answers.
"Has your scar hurt any other time during the summer, Harry?" she questioned.
"A few times it started burning . . . but it never actually hurt, so I didn't think it was
important enough to worry anyone about."
"Oh, Harry, why didn't you write anyone? Like Snuffles said, it's more important than you
think! This could lead to all kinds of things and those little times your scar hurt could be
signs of him watching you! Dumbledore would want – "
"Wouldn't your scar have burned in a dream about the Muggles that were killed just now
like it did last year when you had that one about Wormtail and You-Know-Who?" asked Ron,
interrupting yet again with a subject out of the blue, although saving Harry from listening
to Hermione's list of consequences.
"Not unless it was Voldemort" – Ron flinched – "who had done the murdering," Harry
answered.
There was a short silence in which the three of them were left thinking. "I just don't
understand how or why You-Know-Who would come here and risk being discovered," said Hermione,
breaking the quiet spell. "He couldn't have Apparated with the ministry keeping tabs and all,
and he would be uncovered in an instant if he was wearing an invisibility cloak, with all the
shadows and people that would be liable to hit him."
"I remember once when I was in my first year, Dumbledore told me that he didn't need a
cloak to be invisible . . . . " said Harry, his recollection accompanied by a bout of curiosity.
"Imperceptuous Charm," Hermione clarified, snapping her fingers in her forgetfulness. "It
takes an extraordinarily strong wizard to complete the spell, mainly because its effect has all
of the qualities of an Invisibility Cloak but also muffles sound, obliterates shadow, and makes
any passerby able to walk right through the wizard without noticing any difference in climate
or air quality. The catch is that it only lasts for an hour, and you must have a licence,
although the ministry doesn't keep track anymore. Too few people could perform it, so they
figured it was pointless."
"Then that is a possibility, except we've been here much more than an hour," said Ron.
"He couldn't really have found a totally hidden spot to renew himself, could he? I mean
You-Know-Who wouldn't be able to just come from out of nowhere, say hello and then disappear."
"The only other way that I can think of for him to get here would be to ride in on a
Thestral," said Hermione, now starting to rub her temples with concentration. "But that
wouldn't help him to follow Harry through crowds and into shops unless he was very slick with
an Invisibility Cloak, which is unlikely."
But Ron was stuck. "A Thes – what?"
"Goodness, Ron, don't you ever read? A Thestral. It's a type of Winged Horse that
possesses the power of invisibility," said Hermione impatiently.
"So," said Harry, concluding the matter in his mind. "Basically we have no idea how
Voldemort (Would you quit?!) got to me or stayed out of the way of everyone else, but we do
know it was him."
With this statement Hermione squared her shoulders resolutely. "But you are going to
write to Professor Dumbledore and Sirius, and now we are going to go get Mrs. Weasley."
"Our time's almost up anyway," Ron pointed out, looking down at his watch. "It's a pity
though . . . I did want to pick up a few dungbombs before the start of term . . . . "
Hermione glared icily at him and started walking, leaving the other two to follow.
Harry really hoped no one was going to make a big deal of this, and he didn't want to worry
either Dumbledore or Sirius, although it was unavoidable.
When they got to the spot that they had arrived on, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were already
waiting, situated comfortably in a set of chairs close to the fire, but Fred and George were
still missing. Harry took it upon himself to beckon Mrs. Weasley out of hearing's range from the
rest of the group and then he told her his story. Her face took on a stricken look of surprise,
fear, and guilt.
"But please don't tell anybody but Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore," Harry finished. "I really
don't want a big scene made out of this . . . . "
"Yes, yes of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, the realization that Voldemort was material
more than spirit seeming to hit her hard. "Harry, forgive me for not going with you! How could
I have ever thought to leave you alone – "
"I understand, Mrs. Weasley. It is only my scar burning, after all."
"No, H-Harry, it's much more than that. I know you know that it is dangerous, but this
time he was actually close by. And think of w-what could have happened to you since I wasn't
paying attention!" she said, her face contracting as she was about to cry.
Harry patted her comfortingly on the arm. "Really, Mrs. Weasley . . . "
At that she burst into tears and hurried to the other room, pulling out her handkerchief
and trying to stifle her sobs, leaving Harry standing alone. He went back to the others with a
slight grimace. "Didn't go too well," he said in a low whisper to hide it from Ginny.
Suddenly Fred and George burst in, a set of strange sort of grins covering their faces.
Their pockets were bulging and Harry overheard George say as he walked through the door,
" . . . . the best year old Hogwarts has ever known!"
"Harry," said Fred, walking over toward him, "in honor of you giving us those Galleons
last term, we've decided to crack off our last year at Hogwarts with the biggest season of
pranks yet."
"We'll pull one on Peeves," added George.
"And Filch," said Fred.
"And everyone in the entire school. You'll all receive complimentary toilet seats, too,"
said George with an evil smile.
Mrs. Weasley appeared at the entrance to the room, cutting Fred and George's proclamation
off. Her eyes were a bit red, but nobody but Harry seemed to notice. "We'd better be going,"
she told them, pulling out a bag of Floo Powder and offering it to George.
"I should, too," said Hermione. She waved to everyone but before she started toward the
door she whispered to Ron and Harry in an unobtrusive way. "You two take care of yourselves,
and Harry, don't forget to write to Dumbledore and Sirius." The two boys nodded and then
Hermione left.
They all took a pinch of the powder and in a whisk they arrived back at the Burrow. Harry
went directly upstairs to send the letters with poor, tired Hedwig who had only had a couple
hours of rest and realized that he really should be scared that Voldemort had gotten that close
to him without ado. But for some reason he wasn't; he was more curious at how the Dark Lord had
done it.
He sent Hedwig off into the graying sky and hoped against hope that his news wouldn't
give either of the receivers unwanted worry, then sat down with Ron to play a heartless
game of Exploding Snap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: IN ALL PAST AND FUTURE CHAPTERS, I APOLOGIZE FOR BAD GRAMMAR AND
SPELLING. ITALICS WERE PULLED BECAUSE OF THE FORMAT TOO, SO SOME OF THE
THINGS THATSHOULD HAVE BEEN ITALICIZED WERE NOT. PLEASE TELL ME HOW IT
TURNED OUT; I DIDN'T REALLY GET A GOOD FEEL FOR THIS CHAPTER ON MY OWN,
PARTLY OWING TO THE CONVERSATION THAT HARRY, RON, AND HERMIONE HAD.
(I'M THE WORST AT CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN CHARACTERS.) THANKS, AND
PLEASE, AS USUAL, REVIEW!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter THREE: Flourish and Blotts
"I just don't understand," said Ron, looking at a piece of parchment that had been brought in
by an owl that was swooping over his head. "Why didn't Hermione write to me? She's been sending
plenty of letters to you since you borrowed Errol to deliver that first one that was a
response to your birthday card, but she doesn't so much as even ask about me."
"I'm sure she's just been busy and hasn't thought of it since your birthday isn't in the
middle of summer," Harry answered, trying to console Ron, whose face was getting redder by the
second.
"Just listen to this!" he said, his eyes bulging slightly. "'Bulgaria is fascinating,
Harry, you really ought to take a trip here in if you get the chance. Victor's home was built
in the late fifteenth century and has a history of being the residency of many great wizards,
including Daryl the Cross-Eyed, who redesigned the architecture. My mum was quite fascinated
at how there was two of everything, and says she wouldn't mind staying here longer except that
she keeps getting lost on her way to the table every morning.' Now really Harry, doesn't it
sound like she's doing more research about Krum's house then Bulgaria?"
Harry had to admit that it did sound like Hermione was engrossed in Krum and his home,
but it was none of his business, anyway. "Don't worry about it, Ron, she's left already. Why
don't you write to her and ask her if she wants to meet us when we go to Diagon Alley this
week?"
Ron looked as though this wasn't a bad idea. He immediately went over to his Hogwarts
trunk and began to rummage around inside it, looking for parchment, a quill, and some ink.
After he had found these things he sat down on his worn Chudley Cannons bedspread and began
to scribble, mumbling things like, "Ha! Try and ignore me now, Hermione!"
Harry looked out the window with the thought of another letter, one from Sirius. Three
weeks had passed since Harry's birthday and their was still no sign of a response, or of
Hedwig, for that matter. Was Sirius so far away that she couldn't reach him in a short amount
of time, or was there another reason? Now that he thought of it, the last he had heard from
his godfather had been a signed permission slip for Hogsmeade and a short note talking of the
most recent news on Voldemort; that had been right after school had gotten out. But Harry
didn't know what he could do other than wait, because he had already asked Mrs. Weasley, who,
being in the hospital wing last year after the Triwizard Tournament, had met the convicted
murderer. Mr. Weasley had been told of the circumstances, and Dumbledore frequently sent both
of them owls on Sirius' whereabouts and condition, although if the letter was intercepted,
Sirius was simply referred to as "Snuffles." Mrs. Weasley didn't know anything of Sirius'
present state, she told him regretfully, and Harry couldn't very well ask Ron's dad because
the man was hardly ever present at the Burrow, busy with work as he was. Harry tried to comfort
himself and Ron with the thought that if Dumbledore wasn't concerned, they had no right to be.
The week went by and Harry spent his time with Ron, practicing Wronski Feints and
Quidditch just the same as he would have had Hedwig returned with a note from Sirius. The day
that they were to leave for Diagon Alley approached and the whole of the Weasley troop got
themselves situated for their escapade. Right as he was checking the condition of his robes
for the coming term, however, Harry thought he heard something tapping on the window in an
irregular fashion, but couldn't be sure because of the racket that the ghoul was making
clanging on the pipes. He went over to check and sure enough, Hedwig was fluttering just
outside the glass, a torn and rather grubby piece of parchment tied to her leg. Harry threw
up the window and Hedwig soared in, landing on his outstretched arm and holding up a talon to
Harry wearily. He immediately pulled off the letter and opened it, calling to Ron, who was
loading socks into his cauldron.
Dear Harry,
Sorry to have worried you. I'm perfectly fine, I've just been on the move so much that it
probably took Hedwig a while to catch up with me. I'm doing some work for the ministry,
although indirectly, through Dumbledore.
Muggle killings have indeed started again; just the other day an entire family was
found dead by a "freak accident" as they put it in the Muggle papers. Seems that some wizards
– Death Eaters, no doubt – used the Avada Kedavra on everyone except for one witch, the
daughter of the Muggles, and apparently they modified her memory. The ministry is going to
have a hard time working through the charm . . . it takes a powerful wizard to use the Avada
Kedavra, as you know, so imagine how strongly her memory is modified! Besides that, such
an intense spell is very likely to injure her mind in the process, however we can only hope for
the best.
The reason that you haven't heard of this is because the ministry is trying to keep it
hushed up and the Daily Prophet has been ordered not to report the details of the deaths.
Goodness knows how the public would react to Voldemort being back and out killing again,
although the Wizarding World will have to learn the truth sometime. The loss has been
recognized, but I've not got any idea how long they'll try to keep it quiet.
I've been mainly using my Animagus form to spy and learn what I can . . . but I'm not
sure this cover will last much longer. Dumbledore has arranged for me to have an inconspicuous
hideout for the year that is close enough to Hogwarts for me to be able to get to the school
in an emergency. (Happily, it also has a good stock of food to keep me going.)
I'm sorry I haven't been able to get you a birthday present, Harry. I'll look into it as
soon as I can. And make sure to tell Dumbledore and myself if your scar hurts; it's more
important than you realize. Say hello to Ron and Hermione for me.
– Sirius
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he let the letter float down into his trunk. Ron, who
had been reading over his shoulder, was wearing a slight grin, despite the letter having bad
news in it. "Well what do you think of that?" he asked, picking up a pair of socks from where
he had dropped them on the floor. "He's got himself a job!"
"I don't know . . . . But what about those Muggles?" Harry said, frowning with thought.
"Do you reckon Lucius Malfoy is involved? After all, he is supposed to be in charge of
that sort of thing . . . . " Ron said, a bit of hope in his voice at getting Malfoy in trouble.
"Didn't your mum say the other day that he's busy at the ministry, trying to run against
your dad for Fudge's spot? But I suppose there are a lot of rumors going around about him too,
I mean, he doesn't totally keep his standing about those situations low-profile. But the
ministry doesn't believe that Vol – er – You-Know-Who's back, do they? They just think his
supporters are out there, right? . . . . Sort of like how the Dark Mark was shot up last year,
only worse."
"Yeah, that's right . . . . But I'm surprised the Muggle killings passed this quietly. You
would think that someone using the worst of the Unforgivable Curses would have caused more of
an outrage, you know, something that a reporter like Rita Skeeter would be on."
"If the Daily Prophet had been allowed to tell more about it, it probably would have been.
But the ministry has got to be in a bad state! They're most likely having the time of their
lives trying to break that memory charm."
Suddenly Ginny appeared at the door, flushing a little when Harry looked her straight in
the eyes. "Mum says it's time to go," she reported, then turned and retreated down the stairs
hurriedly.
Harry bent down and snatched Sirius' letter, pocketing it with a mind to show Hermione,
who had also sent them a note, saying that she would be able to meet them at Diagon Alley that
day. Ron grabbed his booklist that both of them would be able to use, then the pair of them
started down the steps.
The rest of the group: Fred, George, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny, were already waiting, Ginny
having just stepped inside the fireplace with a pinch of Floo powder. "Diagon Alley!" she
shouted, then disappeared from the high green flames.
Fred and George went next, and finally Harry's turn came. He took a bit of the powder
and threw it into the fireplace, once again turning the shoots of flame an emerald hue. He
stepped inside the fire and felt only a warm breeze, then yelled, "Diagon Alley!" and was
quickly swept away.
He whirled around and around, a number of scenes flicking before his eyes until he saw
three red heads. He stepped forward at the same time the spinning stopped and found himself
next to the Weasleys, who were already sweeping themselves clean of ash with a brush. He
recognized the spot that they had landed in as the Leaky Cauldron, the merrily crackling fire
next to them part of a side chamber off the actual tavern.
After Fred had finished his brushing he handed the instrument to Harry, who completed
cleaning himself off as soon as Ron showed up, followed by Mrs. Weasley. When they had all
gotten the ash off of themselves, Mrs. Weasley started off down the street, closely trailed
by Ginny. "You boys go get your things," she called behind her. "And put the bill on our tab.
It'll be shorter that way. We'll meet back here in two hours."
Fred and George mysteriously sauntered off to the joke shop and Harry and Ron started for
Gringotts, that being where they had agreed to meet Hermione. They passed a few people they
knew: Lee Jordan, who was headed in the direction of the joke shop possibly to rendezvous with
Fred and George, Seamus Finnigan, looking taller than they had last seen him, Cho Chang, who
made Harry blush after she waved in his direction with a smile, and the Creevey brothers, both
of whom tugged on their father's hands to pull him into an introduction, which Harry quickly
slipped out of. In not too long of a time they had made it down the street to the bank, and
waiting on the steps with her parents was Hermione. She gave them her usual smile and addressed
them in the same slightly-bossy tone that she always did. "Hello Ron, hello, Harry. How were
your summers?"
"Just fine," said Harry; it appeared that Ron was having trouble swallowing so Harry
answered for him.
"Good," she said. "Mine was excellent too – Ron are you all right?" asked Hermione, giving
him a strange look.
Ron pulled at the neck of his robes. "Yeah," he managed to gasp.
"I still need to get my money from Gringotts," said Harry, his eyes switching between the
two. "Why don't you go have an ice cream or something."
"Sure," Hermione said, snatching the hem on Ron's sleeve and dragging him up the street.
"It looks like it'll do him good. We'll meet you there." She turned to her parents. "Mum, Dad,
why don't you come along?"
The older couple followed their daughter and Harry was left alone on the marble steps. He
entered Gringotts and by the time he had come out with his bag of money jingling, the sun had
gotten considerably higher in the sky than it had last been. He made his way back up the alley
toward Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to get Ron and Hermione and when he arrived the
two were sitting side by side, enjoying waffle cones and chatting. Ron stood up and tossed the
remainder of his away. "Ready, Harry?" he asked. Harry nodded and the three of them began
walking, Hermione turning to tell her parents that she would be back in about an hour.
All three of them ran their errands: Harry had to get new robes because he had grown so
much over the summer, Ron wanted to grab a new quill, and Hermione insisted that they stop and
buy something for Crookshanks. After browsing around the Magical Menagerie for a while and still
finding nothing, Hermione settled on a bag of cat treats that when fed to the feline were supposed to
make its fur stand on end and change color constantly for fifteen minutes.
They halted in front of the Apothecary and Harry refilled his supplies of jellyfish
poison, rat's teeth, and filed mountain goat horn, then the trio headed for Flourish and
Blotts.
"Let's see," said Ron, examining the list of books required. "THE STANDARD BOOK
OF SPELLS, GRADE FIVE and A GUIDE TO ADVANCED TRANSFIGURATION is all we
need," he told the other two. "I wonder why Professor Trelawny didn't tell us to get anything new for
Divination." He shrugged. "Old bat's probably too busy predicting our deaths that were supposed to
have happened over the summer."
With that he went off to get three copies of THE STANDARD BOOK OF SPELLS
and Harry looked around for the Transfiguration section, while Hermione occupied herself trying to
find a new Arithmancy book. Harry skimmed the floating signs above the aisles, pointing him in the
right direction. At the very end of the store was the Transfiguration label, suspended in the air. Harry
made his way down to it and turned into the rather darkened section to find that the schoolbooks were
all lined up on shelves at the far end. He pulled out three copies of the book he needed, and then started
back. Harry was about to turn the corner when a sudden blast of pain ripped through his forehead, his
scar suddenly screaming with life as though someone had heaved a white-hot branding iron down on
him. He dropped the books unconsciously and his hands flew to his scar, his vision starting to blur with
a pain that left him stumbling to his knees. He called out to Ron and continued to clutch his head. Then
all of a sudden the pain started to retreat slightly, as though the source was being taken away but the
damage done was continuing to flame on its own.
"Yeah Harry, what did you – Harry!" Harry lifted his gaze, still blurry as it was, to see
Ron stooped beside him, frantic. "Hold on, I'm going to get the shop keeper . . . "
"No, don't Ron," said Harry through clenched teeth. "Just wait here . . . it'll pass. Give me
a few seconds but don't leave."
"Right," said Ron, looking around anxiously to see if Hermione was close.
The pain was leaving Harry slowly and soon enough he was able to stand with just his head
throbbing violently. Ron picked up the books and Harry tried to look as though nothing had
happened. Hermione was already standing with her newly-bought books by the register, her face
showing agitation. "What took so long?" she demanded, tapping her foot slightly. Ron gave her
a dark glare and the impatience swept off her face.
By the time the trio had their books safely tucked away and had found a good corner along
the street in which they could talk without being noticed, Harry's scar was only barely aching.
He handed Hermione Sirius' letter. "Read this," he said.
She took the note and scanned it, then handed it back to Harry. "I wonder why they don't
get Dumbledore to break the memory charm?" she wondered aloud.
Harry answered. "Probably don't want anything to do with him. After all, Fudge is still
Minister of Magic and everyone – "
"All right, Harry, enough stalling," said Ron, giving him a slightly piercing look. "What
was that about your scar burning back there? And why couldn't I leave to go get help?"
Hermione's eyes widened. "That's why you two took so long to get the books? Harry, this is
serious, we can't just stand here and talk, we need to go get Mrs. Weasley!"
"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said wearily. "You couldn't go get help, Ron, because I
didn't want whatever it was that made my scar react to come back from where it had disappeared
to when you came over . . . You know I don't have any idea what might have made my scar to hurt a
little but – "
Ron interrupted him again. "It was not just hurting a little, Harry. It was almost as bad
as that time in Divination!"
"In any case, we don't know what caused it. I mean it couldn't have been Voldemort, not
here. On the other hand, no one else could have done it . . . . . "
"In a bookshop, Harry? In the middle of the Wizarding Community? Not very likely," said
Ron skeptically.
"No one else could make my scar go off like that!" Harry persisted. "And think how easy
it would be for him if I was just by myself. It would be fast; it wouldn't need much planning."
"But if that was the case, how would he know that at one certain time you weren't going
to be protected? And why wouldn't he have tried it before?" asked Hermione.
"Well, he would only attack me now instead of before if he was really desperate to kill
me without royalties included, right? And he might be spying," Harry said guessing the answers.
"Has your scar hurt any other time during the summer, Harry?" she questioned.
"A few times it started burning . . . but it never actually hurt, so I didn't think it was
important enough to worry anyone about."
"Oh, Harry, why didn't you write anyone? Like Snuffles said, it's more important than you
think! This could lead to all kinds of things and those little times your scar hurt could be
signs of him watching you! Dumbledore would want – "
"Wouldn't your scar have burned in a dream about the Muggles that were killed just now
like it did last year when you had that one about Wormtail and You-Know-Who?" asked Ron,
interrupting yet again with a subject out of the blue, although saving Harry from listening
to Hermione's list of consequences.
"Not unless it was Voldemort" – Ron flinched – "who had done the murdering," Harry
answered.
There was a short silence in which the three of them were left thinking. "I just don't
understand how or why You-Know-Who would come here and risk being discovered," said Hermione,
breaking the quiet spell. "He couldn't have Apparated with the ministry keeping tabs and all,
and he would be uncovered in an instant if he was wearing an invisibility cloak, with all the
shadows and people that would be liable to hit him."
"I remember once when I was in my first year, Dumbledore told me that he didn't need a
cloak to be invisible . . . . " said Harry, his recollection accompanied by a bout of curiosity.
"Imperceptuous Charm," Hermione clarified, snapping her fingers in her forgetfulness. "It
takes an extraordinarily strong wizard to complete the spell, mainly because its effect has all
of the qualities of an Invisibility Cloak but also muffles sound, obliterates shadow, and makes
any passerby able to walk right through the wizard without noticing any difference in climate
or air quality. The catch is that it only lasts for an hour, and you must have a licence,
although the ministry doesn't keep track anymore. Too few people could perform it, so they
figured it was pointless."
"Then that is a possibility, except we've been here much more than an hour," said Ron.
"He couldn't really have found a totally hidden spot to renew himself, could he? I mean
You-Know-Who wouldn't be able to just come from out of nowhere, say hello and then disappear."
"The only other way that I can think of for him to get here would be to ride in on a
Thestral," said Hermione, now starting to rub her temples with concentration. "But that
wouldn't help him to follow Harry through crowds and into shops unless he was very slick with
an Invisibility Cloak, which is unlikely."
But Ron was stuck. "A Thes – what?"
"Goodness, Ron, don't you ever read? A Thestral. It's a type of Winged Horse that
possesses the power of invisibility," said Hermione impatiently.
"So," said Harry, concluding the matter in his mind. "Basically we have no idea how
Voldemort (Would you quit?!) got to me or stayed out of the way of everyone else, but we do
know it was him."
With this statement Hermione squared her shoulders resolutely. "But you are going to
write to Professor Dumbledore and Sirius, and now we are going to go get Mrs. Weasley."
"Our time's almost up anyway," Ron pointed out, looking down at his watch. "It's a pity
though . . . I did want to pick up a few dungbombs before the start of term . . . . "
Hermione glared icily at him and started walking, leaving the other two to follow.
Harry really hoped no one was going to make a big deal of this, and he didn't want to worry
either Dumbledore or Sirius, although it was unavoidable.
When they got to the spot that they had arrived on, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were already
waiting, situated comfortably in a set of chairs close to the fire, but Fred and George were
still missing. Harry took it upon himself to beckon Mrs. Weasley out of hearing's range from the
rest of the group and then he told her his story. Her face took on a stricken look of surprise,
fear, and guilt.
"But please don't tell anybody but Mr. Weasley and Dumbledore," Harry finished. "I really
don't want a big scene made out of this . . . . "
"Yes, yes of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley, the realization that Voldemort was material
more than spirit seeming to hit her hard. "Harry, forgive me for not going with you! How could
I have ever thought to leave you alone – "
"I understand, Mrs. Weasley. It is only my scar burning, after all."
"No, H-Harry, it's much more than that. I know you know that it is dangerous, but this
time he was actually close by. And think of w-what could have happened to you since I wasn't
paying attention!" she said, her face contracting as she was about to cry.
Harry patted her comfortingly on the arm. "Really, Mrs. Weasley . . . "
At that she burst into tears and hurried to the other room, pulling out her handkerchief
and trying to stifle her sobs, leaving Harry standing alone. He went back to the others with a
slight grimace. "Didn't go too well," he said in a low whisper to hide it from Ginny.
Suddenly Fred and George burst in, a set of strange sort of grins covering their faces.
Their pockets were bulging and Harry overheard George say as he walked through the door,
" . . . . the best year old Hogwarts has ever known!"
"Harry," said Fred, walking over toward him, "in honor of you giving us those Galleons
last term, we've decided to crack off our last year at Hogwarts with the biggest season of
pranks yet."
"We'll pull one on Peeves," added George.
"And Filch," said Fred.
"And everyone in the entire school. You'll all receive complimentary toilet seats, too,"
said George with an evil smile.
Mrs. Weasley appeared at the entrance to the room, cutting Fred and George's proclamation
off. Her eyes were a bit red, but nobody but Harry seemed to notice. "We'd better be going,"
she told them, pulling out a bag of Floo Powder and offering it to George.
"I should, too," said Hermione. She waved to everyone but before she started toward the
door she whispered to Ron and Harry in an unobtrusive way. "You two take care of yourselves,
and Harry, don't forget to write to Dumbledore and Sirius." The two boys nodded and then
Hermione left.
They all took a pinch of the powder and in a whisk they arrived back at the Burrow. Harry
went directly upstairs to send the letters with poor, tired Hedwig who had only had a couple
hours of rest and realized that he really should be scared that Voldemort had gotten that close
to him without ado. But for some reason he wasn't; he was more curious at how the Dark Lord had
done it.
He sent Hedwig off into the graying sky and hoped against hope that his news wouldn't
give either of the receivers unwanted worry, then sat down with Ron to play a heartless
game of Exploding Snap.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: IN ALL PAST AND FUTURE CHAPTERS, I APOLOGIZE FOR BAD GRAMMAR AND
SPELLING. ITALICS WERE PULLED BECAUSE OF THE FORMAT TOO, SO SOME OF THE
THINGS THATSHOULD HAVE BEEN ITALICIZED WERE NOT. PLEASE TELL ME HOW IT
TURNED OUT; I DIDN'T REALLY GET A GOOD FEEL FOR THIS CHAPTER ON MY OWN,
PARTLY OWING TO THE CONVERSATION THAT HARRY, RON, AND HERMIONE HAD.
(I'M THE WORST AT CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN CHARACTERS.) THANKS, AND
PLEASE, AS USUAL, REVIEW!!!!