Surprising Evil

Disclaimer- As much as we may all hate it, JK Rowling got to the Harry Potter characters first. Therefore, she owns the right to use them, not I.

A/N- Hope this is long enough, Malishka. It was hell to type.

Catlike Hints

The silvery orb of the moon had already sank below the trees surrounding the clearing in which The Burrow sat when the sun rose, its violent rays disrupting the darkness engulfing Ron's room. Despite his restless sleep the night before, Harry awoke.

He lied in the cot, his eyes shut, trying to capture the last wisps of his dream that remained. The sun's light invaded his thoughts and forced his eyes open. Combined with the golden rays of sunlight, Ron's orange room produced a blinding effect.

Harry snuck past Ron's sleeping figure (which was quite hard since he was half off the bed, mouth open and a puddle of his saliva forming on the orange carpet) and the sleeping Quidditch players, barely remaining on their brooms, in the posters covering the room's walls. He even managed to slip out the door without swinging its creaking hinges too loudly.

The familiar sounds and smell of coffee being made wafted up the stairs and towards Harry; signalling that others were out of bed. He hurried down the stairs, careful not to step too heavily on the ones he knew to make a clamor.

Arthur Weasley and his son Percy sat at the table, having what Harry could only assume was a father-son moment.

In the nervous tone of the evening before, Percy seemed to be trying to get up the nerve to tell his father something. Much to Percy's own horror (or possibly relief; it was hard to tell) Harry interrupted them by entering the kitchen.

Percy stood and flattened his navy work robes, identical to his father's, with the Ministry of Magic seal just below his left shoulder. "T- thanks, Father.."

He picked up the bulging suitcase beside his chair, and with an uneasy wave to Harry, disapparated before he could hear his father's protests of "But Percy, you never told me what was troubling you."

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley, who was wiping his brow in a worried fashion.

Two steaming cups of coffee floated their way over to the table, the coffee beans and hot water kettle on the cupboard fleeing back to their correct places.

Mr. Weasley motioned towards the empty chair and newly filled coffee mug. Harry took them both, too polite to oblige the bitter tasting coffee.

"Mr. Weasley, what's wrong with Percy?"

Mr. Weasley sighed and took a drink from his chipped coffee mug. "The events of last year involving Mr. Crouch shocked Percy to no end. Things are also getting a bit serious with Ms. Clearwater as well. I suppose he's been under a lot of strain lately."

When Voldemort had regained power last year, he had been performing the Imperius Curse on Barty Crouch, Percy's highly looked upon boss. The man was now deceased and Percy was the assistant to Mrs. Loitle. She was far less tightlipped and strict than Mr. Crouch had been, and this anything but pleased Percy.

Mr. Weasley took another sip from his coffee and looked up at the clock with a jump. "Good heavens, if I don't hurry I'll be late for work."

Absentmindedly flicking his wand, his coffee cup flew at the nearest wall, shattering to pieces. While the cleaning appliances cleaned up his mess, Mr. Weasley grabbed his suitcase and was about to kiss Harry on the cheek before he realized Harry wasn't his wife.

Turning a funny shade of red, he waved to Harry and disapparated, leaving Harry in the kitchen alone with tutting appliances and a mug of bitter coffee.

Harry set his untouched mug of coffee on the table and looked up at the Weasley's clock. It held seven hands, one for each of the Weasley's living at home (Charlie and Bill didn't have one, since they were in Romania and Egypt for their jobs). Five of them were pointed at 'Home' where the twelve is on a Muggle clock. Mr. Weasley's was at work (the six on a Muggle clock).. but where was Percy's? With a gasp, Harry realized it was pointing at the spot where the three would be, clearly labeled 'Danger.'

Harry turned back to his coffee, and staring into the swirling liquid tried to figure out what he should do.

"Harry, dear?"

Jolted out of his torpor by Mrs. Weasley's concerned voice, he turned to find her staring down at him from under her fiery red hair, wearing a white house dress.

"I didn't know you drank coffee."

Smiling sheepishly at her, he replied "I usually don't."

She took her wand from inside her sleeve and waved it at the mug, and Harry watched as it floated towards the sink, draining out the coffee and beginning to wash itself.

"I see Arthur and Percy made it to work," Said Mrs. Weasley, now sitting beside Harry.

Amazed, Harry looked back at the strange clock, only to find that Percy's hand was now pointing to 'Work.' Had he just been imagining that it had been on danger?

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Mrs. Weasley's insisting that he go back to bed finally succeeded, and Harry trudged up the steps to Ron's room.

Ron was awake, lying on his back watching the sun's rays dance on his ceiling. His orange bedspread was tossed aside, revealing the white bed sheet underneath and Ron clothed in yesterday's garb.

"I was beginning to think Voldemort had come and snatched you up," he retorted dryly.

"Come off it, Ron," Harry laughed. "Don't be such a git."

Ron shrugged as best he could in his current position as Harry sat down on the cot across from him. Ron squeezed his eyes shut and screwed up his face in a look of disgust. "It's too early to be up."

After a moment of silent agreement, Ron continued. "We've only five days left of vacation."

Harry groaned and let himself fall onto the cot's thin mattress. "Trelawney's Divination classes will give us a chance to sleep, at least."

Sybill Trelawney was their Divination professor. She was a batty old woman who thought the little bit of sight she did hold made her superior to everyone else.

"Who can sleep with her murmuring about your death every five seconds? I'm beginning to think we should have followed Hermione out of the classroom in third year."

Hermione, their bushy haired and mostly rule abiding friend had left Divination classes forever in their third year after hearing another of Trelawney's predictions about Harry's death.

Harry nodded in agreement and then shuddered to himself. "Imagine falling asleep in Snape's class."

Ron moaned. "I'd rather not. We'd never see the light of day again."

Harry had to agree. Snape had always hated Harry; and Ron along with it since he was his best friend.

A knock on the partly opened bedroom door startled them away from their thoughts of Snape, and Mrs. Weasley's tired voice floated into the room.

"Ron, both your brothers have seemed to left their entire set of school books in Diagon Alley. Ginny and I are going along with the twins to find them.

"You and Harry can help yourself to breakfast downstairs."

Once his mother was safely down the stairs, Ron snickered. "The idiots! What did they go and do that for?"

Harry shook his head as if to say he didn't know, and joined in on the laughter. Once it died down they both decided to get dressed.

Emerging from the room in jeans and T-shirts (Ron's worn and slightly faded, while Harry's, once being Dudley's, were slipping off him), they headed down to the empty kitchen where two plates sat, piled high with fried eggs, bacon, and toast with marmalade.

"All right!" Roared Ron. "I'm starved!" Helping himself to a chair, he began to shovel forkfuls of the food into his mouth. Harry was soon sitting across from him doing the same.

"Ugh! Do you two ever stop stuffing yourselves?"

Ron looked up from his plate and began to choke on his mouthful of bacon. Harry had to leap up and give him the hemlich before the piece lodged in his throat finally flew out.

"Really, Ron. How charming!"

Breathless, Ron shook his fist at the bushy haired head in the fire.

If he hadn't talked to his godfather, Sirius, through means such as this the year before he would have been startled out of the little wits he still had by the sight.

"Hermione!" Said Harry, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too," Spoke Hermione's head huffily from the green flames in the Weasley's fireplace.

"We are happy to see you, Hermione," Started Harry.

"But we're also wondering why you decided to pop into my fireplace without any warning," Ron finished for him, quite irritably.

"Well, I thought it would be nice to visit my two best friends before we go back to Hogwarts," She said in a sickeningly happy voice.

"I was also wondering if you'd do me a favor.."

"I knew it!" Said Ron, accusingly, running over to the fire; but before he could argue, two arms were pushing a great ball of ginger fur into his. This was followed by two yelps of pain, but Hermione ignored that and turned to Harry who had just stepped forward to see what was going on.

The pair of arms, Hermione's, thrust out a large carrying bag at Harry. "Crookshanks will need feeding three times a day; brushed at least once; and shown attentive care at all times."

Harry put down the bag and pulled Crookshanks, Hermione's familiar, a large ginger cat, off Ron, who was swearing loudly. As soon as Crookshanks had reached Harry's hands however he jumped into the air and fled under the table.

Hermione cast them both a dirty look and then grinned, "See you in four days!" Her head and the green flames disappearing with a pop.

Ron let out another string of curses, and then jerked his thumb at Crookshanks, who was now on top of the table, tackling a piece of Ron's toast. "What are we supposed to do with that thing?"

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Ron had never liked Crookshanks. They had first met in a magical pet store, when he had been buying Rat Tonic for his pet rat, Scabbers. Crookshanks had jumped on top of him, nearly beheading him. Of course, he had actually been trying to kill Ron's rat, who turned out to be Peter Pettigrew; a servant of Voldemort who had framed Harry's godfather for betraying his parents and killing thirteen people with one curse... Since Wormtail (that had been his nickname when he was a student at Hogwarts) managed to escape once found out, Sirius was still known as a convicted killer.

"Oh, hello," Called Percy's unexpected voice, hauling them out of their stupor.

"Decided to come home for lunch," He explained, his face hard evidence of long hours at work. "The office is so very hectic these days."

What he had meant to say was Mrs. Loitle was an incompetent fool, but he couldn't insult his boss like that.

"You two wouldn't mind fixing me up a spot of lunch?" He questioned Harry and Ron. "Crazy tired, I am."

Crookshanks spotted Percy standing by the table and immediately began rubbing up against his leg.

Ron stared at his older brother in utter disgust, muttering "Always knew it was a stupid cat."

Harry, shrugging apologetically at a confused Percy, followed his friend into the living room.

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"The both of you will be the death of me yet!" Roared Mrs. Weasley, upsetting Harry and Ron's Muggle card house in the living room. ("It was stupid anyway.")

Percy could be heard jumping from his chair in the kitchen, where Crookshanks and him had been comfortably situated.

Fred and George came teetering into the living room with large piles of books in their hands. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny followed behind, but held considerably smaller piles.

Surprisingly enough, both female Weasley's were covered from head to toe in what looked like paint. Ginny had a spot of green on her nose, purple on her forearm, and pink on her legs. Mrs. Weasley's face was entirely blue, and her white dress now resembled a tie-dye T-shirt.

"Exploding chalk," Fred explained excitingly.

"Of course we let Mum and Ginny pass us our books so it wouldn't explode on us." George continued.

Mrs. Weasley's face reddened. "It's bad enough that you vandalize your school things!" Harry noticed several crude drawings on the worn volumes. "But to have it explode in your mother and sister's face?

"Upstairs! And take your books with you!"

The twins grimaced at their mothers yell, but upon walking past Harry they whispered, "It worked, though!" "Brilliantly!"

Ron had been doubled over in laughter for quite some time now, and noticing this Ginny puffed out her chest and stalked up the stairs. Mrs. Weasley threw a threatening glare at her youngest son and turned on her heel back into the kitchen.

"Percy!" She said delightfully. "How wonderful that you came home for lunch. Wish your father would be so considerate.."

Her voice faded away as the sounds of her preparing Percy's lunch filled the kitchen.

Ron looked over at Harry and grinned. "Today's proving to be interesting, at the very least!"

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Crookshanks spent the next three days aggravating Ron, guarding Percy as if its life depended on it (Harry was reminded of Crookshanks relationship with Sirius), enjoying the lavish attention Ginny reigned down upon it, and for some reason, avoiding Harry at all costs. This didn't bother him too greatly. Although his dislike for the cat certainly didn't rival that of Ron's, it was there nonetheless.

When finally Hermione arrived to take Crookshanks back into her care, Harry and Ron hadn't lifted a finger. In fact, they'd played Quidditch (using Muggle Ping-Pong balls), and watched Fred and George's imitations of their professors the entire time. Ginny and Percy had cared for it, quite willingly. Although Percy did object at cleaning up after it when it had an accident on their living room carpet.

When Hermione did arrive, she came in full form, bushy haired as always, deeply tanned, and looking like more of a girl than ever in a sun dress. At the sight of her suitcase and trunk full of Hogwarts things, Ron groaned.

Mrs. Weasley hit him on the back of the head with her dishtowel ("Ow, Mum! I just want Crookshanks gone!") and beamed down at Hermione. "I'm so glad you could take up my invitation, dear. I'm only sorry it can't be for longer. The Hogwart's Express leaves the day after tomorrow."

"Excellent," Said Percy, strolling into the kitchen and spotting Hermione and her bags. "Does this mean Crookshanks will be staying again? He really is a quite intelligent cat, you know. Why, just the other day.."

Percy didn't notice Ron pretending to gag behind him or Harry and the twins cracking up.

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Much to Ron's despair, their last day of vacation came and went. Harry, Hermione and Ron were sitting side-by-side on the porch steps discussing this during the late evening before they would be heading back to Hogwarts.

"I wonder who'll be our next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Harry thought aloud.

"Reckon he'll be another prat," Ron said, leaning up against the porch railing. "Although Lupin certainly wasn't one, and if Mad-Eye Moody had been real.."

Mad-Eye Moody had been under the Imperius Curse by Barty Crouch's son (servant to Voldemort, and presumed to be dead at the time), who had been posing as him with aid of a polyjuice potion during his time as a professor at Hogwarts. He would always be remembered for turning Malfoy into a bouncing white ferret, though.

Hermione squealed excitingly and threw them both a look they knew too well. A look that said "I know something you don't know."

"Great. What is it now, Hermione?" Asked Ron, looking at her suspiciously.

Harry sighed. What did Hermione know that they didn't?