Chapter Fifteen: The Prophecies

Hermione kept turning the pages. "If she was so clever, why is this so disorganized?" she asked. Then she stopped turning and stared.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Hermione handed him the book. I read over his shoulder. It read, "Well, Hermione, you try to organize it better then! R.R." I giggled.

"Here, give it to me," I said.

The next line read, "Well, Joanne, your turn is it? Try page forty-seven."

"Are we sure this book is safe?" Percy asked. "I mean, remember Ginny and Tom Marvolo Riddle's diary? This thing thinks for itself and we can't see where it keeps its brains. AND we got it from You-Know-Who's mother!"

"Oh, shut up, Percy," said Hermione. "Actually, we didn't get it from her, we got it from McGonagall. You know how she is about rules. She wouldn't have given us anything that had Dark Magic in it."

I turned to page forty-seven. It read, "A Muggle machine shall record the saga, but it shall twist the truth for no reason other than it was lazy and couldn't be bothered to dramatically build up the part where a giant tells the boy who lived of his destiny."

"It's the movie!" said Hermione. "Harry, Ron and I went to the premiere in the Invisibility Cloak."

"Totally ruined that part, too," said Harry. "The way they had it, it was like 'Didn't you wonder where your parents learned it all?' 'Learned what?' 'You're a wizard.' Hagrid didn't even know that I didn't know about my parents! Stupid Muggle director, you ought to sue him, Jo."

"Well, it was pretty good, as movies based on books go."

"Well, Daniel Radcliffe looks like me, anyway," said Harry. "You should have heard Ron when he saw Rupert Grint. 'He's too bloody short! I'm not short! And his nose is too little...' We had to clamp our hands over his mouth, the row behind us was staring funny."

"As soon as this whole thing is over, we ought to go and spy on the making of the third film," said Hermione. "And that Emma Watson! I wasn't nearly that much of a brat in my first year, thank you very much."

"Yes you were," said Harry.

"Shut up...and they left out the Sorting Hat song! And the wizard's duel! At least the bloke who played Wood was gorgeous..."

"Wood's practically deformed-looking in real life," said Percy.

"It isn't his fault his nose got in the way of his cousin's Engorgement Charm," snapped Hermione. "Anyway, I hope they pick Ewan MacGregor for Remus." She fell back in a delirious mock faint.

"I hope so too," came Remus's voice from the bed. "God, he's gorgeous. Not skinny enough to play me, though."

"Well, they could fix that...I love Moulin Rouge!" said Hermione. "And when he sings..."

Remus swooned too.

Sirius sat up. "Do you MIND?"

"Sorry, love. You know I think you're every bit as hot as Ewan."

"I should hope so." He nuzzled Remus's neck. Percy averted his eyes.

I turned to Percy. "Will you STOP THAT?!"

"What?"

"You know perfectly well what. How would you like it if you kissed Penelope and Sirius and Remus looked away?" Disgusted I picked up the book again. Then I started to laugh.

"What?"

"Read this, Perce."

The book read, "Yeah, Percy, get over it! Godric Gryffindor was gay too, you know. And you spent seven years living in the house named after him and you survived. Good Lord, I'm ashamed of you. Someone as intelligent as you and you can't get over the fact that two men can be in love. I've foretold the creation of emoticons, and if I knew the eye-rolling one, I'd insert it here."

Harry snickered. "Here, can I see the book?" Remus asked.

Percy passed it to him. As Remus reached for it, he clamped his hands over Percy's. "There, you've touched a gay person and survived. You haven't got AIDS and you haven't turned queer yourself."

"Don't be so hard on him, Remus," said Sirius.

Percy stood up. "I'm going back to bed."

"Good riddance," Harry mouthed at me. Percy left.

"It's not his fault he's an ignorant git," Sirius said.

"Well, he's gone now, and I don't feel like talking about him any more," Remus said. He read aloud from the book.

"Good thinking, Remus. Look at page one hundred and eight-four." He thumbed through the book and read, "The answer to conquering the Dark Lord lies in thoughts."

He looked at the book exasperatedly. "Come on Rowena, can't you give us something else?"

"No," said the book. "I trust you're all bright enough to figure it out. I'm closing now for the night. Goodbye." Remus pulled out his fingers just before the book snapped shut.

"Thoughts?" said Hermione. "How are we supposed to defeat him with thoughts?"

"Hell if I know, you lot are the wizards," I said, climbing back into Ginny's bed.

"We should probably sleep on it and figure it out in the morning," said Sirius.

Harry and Hermione took the hint. They said goodnight and left.

In the morning, we told Mr. Weasley what we had figured out about the lemon drops, and he went to the store (with Hermione's Muggle money) to buy some.

"They can't have that much protection, though," said George. "Or else Dumbledore wouldn't have been captured."

"Well, they're better than nothing," said Ginny. At that moment, Mr. Weasley returned from the store with five large bags.

"Fellow behind the counter thought I was mad," he said. "Don't blame him, really."

Fred and George cautiously took a drop each and put them in their mouths. They sucked for a minute in silence. "What do they do?" Fred asked.

"They taste like lemons," I said.

"They don't taste like cockroaches or earwax or anything?" asked George.

"No."

"They can't engorge someone's tongue or turn them into a canary?"

"Sorry."

"Candy that tastes like lemons!" exclaimed Mr. Weasley. "What will these Muggles think of next?"