Chapter Eighteen: Rita Skeeter

That night, we were all sitting together in the living room, sucking on lemon drops. Fred and George were working on a catalogue that they were making for all their tricks. Ron and Hermione were playing wizard chess. Harry was reading Quidditch Through The Ages, and Ginny was knitting. (Already, I noticed, her stitches were more even than her mother's.) Sirius and Remus were sitting at the desk in the corner, each consulting the book of prophecies and taking notes. Mr. Weasley was reading The Daily Prophet, and Mrs. Weasley was reading Witch Weekly.

I yawned. "Well, I think I'm going to bed," I said. "Can I use the shower first?"

"Certainly, dear," said Mrs. Weasley.

I started to leave the room, but a loud cough stopped me. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Sirius said.

I groaned. "Don't tell me you two have to be in the shower with me!"

"Probably not in it," said Remus, "but I think we'll have to stand outside."

"Outside the bathroom or outside the shower?"

"Outside the shower."

Rolling my eyes, I left the room. They followed me upstairs, to where I got some of the clothes Mrs. Weasley had loaned me. She had given me the most recent of her maternity robes, last used when Ginny was in utero. Although they were a tad shabby, they were a nice aqua color.

"Just don't look," I said to Remus and Sirius as we walked into the bathroom.

"Like we'd want to," said Sirius.

"Good point."

The water was warm and soothing. I let it run down my skin, washing away all the stress and anxiety. Finally, though, I had to turn the water off.

"Hand me a towel," I said. Sirius's hand reached through the shower curtain with a white towel. "Thanks." I dried off.

"Now, could one of you hand me my clothes?"

"They're going to get quite damp in there," said Remus. "Just come out, we'll face the other way."

Hesitantly, I stepped out of the shower. True to Remus's word, he and Sirius had their backs to me.

Just as I finished dressing, I heard a sharp knock at the front door. Remus turned to me, a scared look on his face. "I just hope that's Moody," he said.

Cautiously, we went into the living room. Mr. Weasley was looking through the peephole. "It's Rita Skeeter," he said.

"God, don't let her in," said Harry.

"Annoying meddling idiot," said Ron.

"Ask her what she wants," said Hermione.

Before Mr. Weasley could ask, Rita Skeeter answered the question on her own. "You've got to let me in!" she cried. "I've got a letter from Moody...it's terribly urgent...if you value your lives, let me in!"

I couldn't tell if she was being serious or dramatic, but apparently Mr. Weasley didn't want to risk it. He opened the door and let her in.

Rita was holding a letter in her lime-color-nailed hands. She was terribly out of breath. "This...it's from Moody...says that he knows I'm not a Death Eater...(gasp)...you've got to leave...leave now...Voldemort knows you're here..."

Mrs. Weasley jumped out. "Knows we're here? How could he have known that?" But the door opened for a second time, and her question was answered.

"P-P-P-Percy!" Hermione gasped.

Standing in the doorway was Percy, with Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair by his side.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Ginny screamed.

"Ginny...it's for the best...the Dark Lord doesn't want to hurt you or anyone else here...all he wants is to tell the truth..."

"The TRUTH!" yelled Ron. "The truth is that he's a murdering, evil -"

"The Dark Lord has only murdered those who were too blind to see the truth," said Percy.

"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY ANOTHER WORD!"

Percy nodded to Macnair. The Death Eater raised his wand, and suddenly all of us were handcuffed, Rita Skeeter included.

"Everyone listen to me," said Percy, over Mrs. Weasley's sobs. "No one will get hurt. No one will die. All Voldemort wants is to defend himself from the Ravenclaw heir..."

"What has Ravenclaw got to do with anything!" I demanded.

"Everything," said Malfoy. "A new heir to the line of Ravenclaw is being formed as we speak. A new heir that prophecy has foretold to be greater than even Rowena Ravenclaw herself." He looked hard at me.

"No," I said, a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Yes," said Macnair.

"But I'm a Muggle," I said. "My daughter Jessica is a Muggle. My whole family's Muggles. How could this baby be a wizard or witch, much less the heir of Ravenclaw?"

"All will be explained," said Percy.

And suddenly, the words of the book of prophecies came back to me. "Four shall come together, in a fraternity of the night. One is brilliant of mind; one is noble of heart; one is kind of nature, and one shall seek to end their happiness. The weakling shall turn traitor and the fraternity shall be dispersed. One shall leave this world for the next; one shall spend a dozen years of misery; one shall live a life of grief; and the traitor shall pay for his deeds."

"It's not the Marauders," I said.

"What isn't?" said Hermione, bewildered.

"The prophecy. The one about four coming together in a fraternity of the night. It's about us, about the night we were up at night and looking over the book. Hermione, you're the one who's brilliant of mind; noble of heart, that's you, Harry; I guess kind of nature is me. And Percy is the one who seeks to end our happiness. He's turned traitor, just like the book said."

As Macnair magicked us out the door, I couldn't help but remember the last words of the prophecy. So Percy would pay for his deeds...but was one of us destined to die?