Departures
A/N: Amazing. Two chapters in one blow. And, nearly a year after really starting THG, I've finally got to the point where the plot begins.... Thanks to all the fantastic people who have reviewed and encouraged me; you're all wonderful, and I'm glad that you enjoy reading this as much as I do writing it.
***
The days following blew away swiftly. The slow turn of summer was ending, and it would soon be September. Trickling off in groups, the Order dispersed. Professor Lupin, Bill, and Mr. Herron left the afternoon of the meeting: Bill to Surrey, to fetch Harry's belongings and investigate the wards, and Lupin and Herron to London to begin their research. Bardrick Doffle ambled off on his own, and Grell, Charlie, Tuesday, and Sirius left the next morning at dawn. Mrs. Weasley found Harry asleep on the green sofa (still in the middle of the kitchen) when she went to make breakfast later that morning. He slept quietly, and she decided the family could eat cereal in the living room instead.
Mr. Weasley and Percy continued their work at the Ministry, looking more worn down every day. And the Daily Prophet continued to report blithely on Quidditch scores and pumpkin juice recipes and the latest robbery in Diagon Alley. Mrs. Figg's obituary ran in the lower left corner of the back page: "Arabella Figg, aged 127 7/9ths, d. Aug. 24. in her home in Surrey. Private service TBA. Donations may be made to the Little Whinging Animal Shelter."
True to his word, Dumbledore included Ron's letter in Hermione's usual Hogwarts letter, to which she responded promptly. Ron turned several shades of puce when the school owl arrived bearing her letter, and told Harry he "didn't feel much like Quidditch-- er, must be coming down with something," and ran off, letter in hand.
When he returned a while later, still the same curious shade, he gave Harry her letter.
August 27
Dear Ron,
It was clever of you to send your letter the way you did, although I did nearly toss it out, thinking it was a blank piece of parchment before the ink appeared. Was that a Voice Encryption charm? I must learn how to do that; it could be very useful in the future. I'll have to check in the library when we get back to school.
I'm so glad to hear that Harry's all right-- I was panicked when the last letter I sent him came back unopened. I checked the Daily Prophet to see if they had reported anything happening in Surrey, but of course they wouldn't, would they? I had just sat down to write you a letter about it when yours arrived. Still, it doesn't seem fair that this should have to happen after the end of last year. Has Harry talked to you about that, by the way? He hasn't said a word to me, and I'm worried.
It does make me feel better to know that there is something being done, though. And if there is anyone in the world who can come up with a solution, it's Dumbledore. And I'm glad that Professor Lupin and Snuffles are helping as well. What do the rest seem like? I wish I could have been at the meetings-- you're so lucky to see have seen the Scroll of the Order! I read about in the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts. It's legendary-- no one knows just how old it is. And to think, you got to sign it.
But speaking of Snuffles, Ron, I really don't think Ginny's reaction to everything was "extreme." After all, we did keep her in the dark. And for no good reason, really-- she would never have told anyone, I know. Your sister is good with secrets.
Oh! And I have to tell you, because I'm almost bursting as there's no one to tell here: I'm a prefect! Professor McGonagall included my badge with my Hogwarts letter. I was completely shocked; I never in a thousand years thought that I'd be made prefect. After all, the three of us do have a bit of a knack for breaking school rules. And you know I'm going to have to be rather strict-- I can't let you and Harry break the rules just because you're my friends. Favoritism isn't becoming in a position of leadership. Just look at Snape-- oh, that wasn't very good of me, although I suppose you'll find it funny. I can hardly wait to get back to Hogwarts-- being a prefect may really help the S.P.E.W. campaign. Perhaps Professor McGonagall will let me hold proper meetings in the common room.
How are you planning on getting your books this year? I imagine it's too much of a risk to take Harry to Diagon Alley. Will your mum fetch them, then? Mum and Dad and I went to Flourish & Blotts and Gringotts yesterday, while we were in London. It seemed less crowded than usual, and it was very strange not to go around with you and Harry and everyone. I suppose I'll see you all at King's Cross on Friday then, shall I? I plan on arriving a little after ten, just to be safe.
Missing trains is horribly tedious. This summer, for example, Mum and Dad and I missed the train we were meant to take to get to a charming castle in Bulgaria that I'd heard about from
The next page was mysteriously missing.
Harry had choked back a laugh, and slid the letter across the table to Ginny, who afterwards made a point to remark on the suitability of Bulgaria as a holiday destination at every opportunity.
***
"Fred, could you get that stupid troll off the table?" Ginny scowled. The miniature troll's club had just sent a pot of marmalade flying into the platter of sausages. "Mum's going to skin you two alive," she muttered. "Or, if she doesn't, I will."
"Well, aren't you just a right Little Miss Sunshine this morning?" Fred elbowed her.
"It's too dark to be morning yet. Mum must've bewitched the clocks," George yawned. Fred grabbed the squirming troll by the arm before it smashed the sugar bowl, and gave its ear a few good twists. The troll froze mid-struggle, returning to a wooden figure.
"Actually, that's pretty cool," Bill said, leaning around Ginny to get a look at the toy. "Did you guys make this?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Of course they did," she answered. "It's useless, it's destructive, and they think it's bloody funny to let it loose in my room." She glared. Bill, however, was too amused with the troll figure to pay attention to his sister's outrage.
"Have you two been working on anything else this summer,
George?" Bill asked. "And am I safe to
assume that my food hasn't been tampered with?"
George snored delicately into his porridge.
"I'll take that as a yes, then."
Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room. "Ginny, dear-- did you bring your trunk downstairs like I asked you? I don't see it in the living room.... George!" She tapped her son's face sharply. "Wake up, and wipe your face. I won't have you go to the station looking like that." George blinked blearily and tried to wipe the porridge off his chin. Mrs. Weasley poured herself a cup of tea, and looked around the room. "Where are Ron and Harry?" she asked, noting the empty seats at the end of the table. Bill shrugged, and gave a quick glance up at the ceiling.
"RONALD WEASLEY!" Mrs. Weasley strode to the bottom of the stairwell. "IF YOU'RE NOT DOWN HERE IN TWO MINUTES-- oh, good morning, Harry. Breakfast is on the table-- TWO MINUTES, YOU'LL BE WALKING TO KING'S CROSS!" Harry stumbled into the kitchen, his hair even more mussed than normal. It was clear he had only just woken up. "'Morning," he mumbled, plopping down in a seat next to Bill."That's the theory, anyway," Fred said. "I say it's actually midnight."
"Why're we leaving so early, anyway?" Ginny asked grumpily. She would need a little more time to be fully civil this morning. Or something. She eyed Bill's coffee. Might be worth a shot....
"Because we don't want to risk the traffic, dear." Mrs. Weasley reentered the kitchen, sheparding a half-asleep Ron to the table. "The taxicars should be here in an hour or so." Ron groaned and folded his arms on the table and tried to doze off. Harry smirked, and smacked the back of Ron's head as he reached for the butter.
"Geroff, Harry." Ron swatted Harry's hand away. "Dunno why you're so awake."
Harry shrugged. "I'm a light sleeper." He turned back to his toast.
Ginny caught her mother giving Harry a worried glance; he hadn't been sleeping well, and they all knew it. It had been rather hard to ignore the occasional cries from Ron's room late at night over the past week. Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. "Well. If you've all finished with your breakfasts-- ," she lifted George's head back out of his porridge, "go ahead and double check that you have all everything packed. I don't want any owls tomorrow saying you've forgot your cauldrons, or Potions ingredients, or the like."
Fred made for the door. "Erm. Potions ingredients...."
George followed suit. "Cauldron. Right."
Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Thank heavens it's their last year," she said.
***
Two taxis arrived at the Burrow promptly at eight, and six Weasleys (Bill had elected to go along to see them off, as Mr. Weasley had to be in at the Ministry early that day) and Harry tried their best to look nonchalant about shoving five trunks and two caged owls-- Hedwig was none the worse for her time alone at the Dursleys'-- into the tiny boots of the cabs. Thankfully, the drivers were none too observant, or they might have noticed Bill expanding the boot to give Pig and Hedwig some breathing room.
Soon, the cars were underway, and Ginny tried to keep herself from nodding off. She'd wound up in the first taxi with her mother and Bill-- she had wanted to ride with Ron and Harry, but the twins had beaten her to the cab. God only knew what they were getting up to, four boys unsupervised in a car like that. The driver would be lucky to escape with his life.... Her head jerked suddenly as they rounded a corner, and she hit her head against the glass pane of the window. "Ow."
Next to her, Bill laughed softly. "Still sleepy, Firebrand?"
Ginny shook her head. "Noo-o-o-oh," she yawned.
"Liar." Bill put his arm around her and mussed her hair.
Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Go ahead and get some sleep, dear. It will be another hour or so before we get to London." Ginny was ready to remind her mother that she was, in fact, fourteen, and didn't need naps, when she yawned again. Might as well, she thought, and laid her head on Bill's shoulder. I'll just take a quick-- yawn-- nap. Not more than-- sigh, yawn-- a few....
Minutes later (or what felt like it), the taxis pulled away, leaving them with their trolleys of trunks and hooting owls. Ron led the way to the platform (it was ten past ten, and he seemed in quite a hurry to get to the train), pushing headlong through the crowds. Harry followed him close, talking to Bill as he went. Bill, Ginny noticed, kept scanning the crowd and had his wand drawn, holding it casually so as not to attract the attention of Muggles.
"Fred, George," Mrs. Weasley instructed when they reached the barrier, "you two are first...." The twins barreled through. "Now, Harry, dear, you go ahead on through with Bill-- wait a moment, Ron, you'll trip right over them. Let them get out of the way before you go-- never mind." She looked at her daughter. "Our turn now." She offered her hand, and Ginny (feeling very much like her seven-year-old self who had been terrified of the brick barrier) grasped it firmly before rushing towards the pillar. I hate this. She closed her eyes, still convinced after countless trips to King's Cross that it would hurt.
There was a deep whistle, and they were through.
The platform bustled with life; it was reassuringly normal to see the frightened faces of first years, teary mothers admonishing their babies to write home, dear, so Mummy knows that you've reached school, all right? She pushed her trunk past the eddies of students collecting in groups to discuss their summers, and plot exploits for the new year, and waved to some other fourth year girls she saw. It was so nice that some things didn't change.
"HERMIONE!"
Ginny smirked. Ron had evidently spotted her, talking animatedly to a prefect from Hufflepuff. Hermione turned, and her face lit up.
"Harry!" She ran across the platform and hugged Harry tightly. Ginny thought for a moment how lucky Hermione was to be able to touch him like that whenever she wanted. Then she shook her head; it was just Hermione. Harry apparently wasn't quite sure what to do: he raised his hands helplessly and let them fall back at his sides. "Oh, I'm so glad you're okay," she said, smiling.
"Hermione...." Harry warned her off saying any more, and she nodded slightly and backed away. Hermione glanced behind Harry, and caught sight of Ginny. "It's good to see you, too, Ginny," she said warmly.
"Good to see you, too." Ginny smiled back.
"Good to see you, too, Ginny," Ron mimicked. "Not even going to say hello to me, are you?" He sounded put out.
Hermione set her mouth, giving what looked like a forced smile. "Hello, Ron."
"'Lo, yourself."
There was an awkward pause.
"Well," said Hermione brightly, "let's go ahead and get on board, then." She turned around and led the way to the train, Ron struggling with his trunk behind her. Ginny couldn't help but snicker quietly. No one other than Harry heard her, though; he met her eyes briefly, and it seemed to her that he was fighting a smile.
They loaded their trunks onto the train, and came out to say goodbye to Mrs. Weasley and Bill. Bill told them he'd be in touch, and gave Ginny's hair a final yank. Mrs. Weasley made the usual threats to the twins ("And you have your N.E.W.Ts this year, you might remember, so study some, please!"), and hugged Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry tightly. Harry she held a little longer than the rest.
She released him reluctantly, and gave the four of them a slow look. "Please be careful," she said. "No heroics." Her eyes seemed a little bright, and Ginny was again struck by just how old her mother looked sometimes. Mrs. Weasley gave a watery smile. "Well, what are you waiting for, dears? Get going, the train won't wait!" She shooed them on board, and waved merrily to them through the windows.
"C'mon," Ron was saying to Harry and Hermione. "I've got us a compartment up here."
Hermione shook her head. "I have to go sit with the prefects," she told them. Ron looked befuddled.
"But you always sit with us," he said.
"Yes, well, I have to sit with the prefects now. We have meetings," she answered primly. "I'll see you all when we get to school, but I have to go now." She turned and walked up towards the front of the train.
Ron gaped. "Well, how do you like that? 'We have meetings,' my arse." He scowled. "Ruddy McGonagall. We'd just got her to loosen up about rules a little, too." Ron shook his head. "C'mon, mate," he motioned towards the compartment. "Guess it's just you and me, then."
"What about Ginny?"
Ginny, who had resigned herself to hunting for a group of non-offensive fourth years, started. She certainly hadn't expected Harry to ask about her.
"Well, what about her?" Ron asked impatiently. Ginny scowled.
"I'm right here, Ron," she said. "You don't have to talk like I'm not, you know." Ron opened his mouth to argue, and Harry jumped in to avoid a sibling dispute.
"Do you need a place to sit?" he asked quickly. "Because we have plenty of room in our compartment, and I think most of the others are already full."
Ginny blinked. Well, that was certainly... nice. "Erm, thanks," she said, feeling the blush rise in her face. "That's nice of you." Way to sound intelligent, Ginny.
But for some reason, her mouth didn't stop there. It just kept barreling right along. "But I think I'm going to go and sit with my friends, actually--" I am? "-- since I haven't seen them all summer and all, you know." No, I don't know. Harry Potter just invited you to sit with him (and your brother, of course), and you said no. Explain this to me.
Harry shrugged. "All right," he said. "See you at Hogwarts, then." Ron pulled him into the compartment, and the door slid shut, leaving her on the other side.
Ginny sighed, and headed down the corridor to search for a seat.