Hermione glared at Draco, who was glaring back. Hatred seemed to boil inside of them both. A resounding, profound hatred.

"I see you still have your ratty hair, Granger," Draco hissed vehemently. "And you still associate with those Weasels?"

The entire Weasley clan sneered at him, ready to pounce on him and tear him to shreds. Luckily for Malfoy, they had the grace to withhold themselves from doing so.

He continued, "Even after what happened with Ronny Boy..." His gaze shifted to Ron, whose face was stark red with a mixture of anger and humiliation. "That someone like him could stoop so low is almost inconceivable, isn't it? And yet I see you haven't shunned him from your family get-togethers. Simply amazing how forgiving you all are. Of course, if it were me he'd betrayed, I would have sent him packed up in a box to Canada."

Harry saw Hermione's hand fishing around inside her robes for her wand. Harry put his own hand on her arm, trying to hint to her not to do anything stupid.

"I'm surprised your father didn't do the same to you," Harry retorted. "I mean, you not becoming a Death Eater just about killed him, didn't it? Didn't feel up to joining Voldemort's crowd?"

Several of the elder Weasleys and Hermione flinched upon hearing the name Voldemort spoken. It didn't affect the younger ones, for Voldemort was before their time. Draco's face contorted into a dismayed, upset one from it's original sneering state.

"How dare you..." Malfoy began to say, but his voice trailed off.

"And how is your dear old dad?" Harry continued. "Last time I heard, he was inches from having his soul sucked away. Did the big mean Dementors give him a kissy-wissy yet, like they did to Bellatrix LeStrange?"

Harry could see this really struck a cord with Malfoy.

Malfoy just grunted and said, "You have no idea, Potter, no idea..."

With that, he turned and swiftly walked away.

Jaidon, who had been standing next to his father the whole time, spoke first. "Dad, who was that?"

Harry turned and faced him, answering quietly, "No one important. Just an old school enemy. His name is Malfoy. He was a Slytherin, of course."

"Oh."

Ginny touched Harry's arm, saying, "Let's not discuss that now. We still have things to do."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Right. Anyway, we should head off to Flourish and Blotts, and then we can stop in at The Leaky Cauldron. Shall we?"

All concurred. The run-in with Malfoy was forgotten.

After purchasing all the necessary books at Flourish and Blotts (and after Hermione had dropped off the ones she was donating), everyone went to The Leaky Cauldron for a warm meal and some much-loved butterbeer. Spirits were heightened.

At one table were Harry, Ginny, Fred, George, and Hermione. Ron, Katie, and Angelina were at the table next to them. Jaidon had taken a seat between Leila and Oz, who were in the middle of a Quidditch discussion. Little Maeve managed to squeeze herself in between Jaidon and Horatio, whom he'd met up with in Flourish and Blotts.

Horatio Hagrid was a giant. Literally. He was only eleven years old, and he was taller than most doors in England. He was also a bit round in the middle, as is typical for a giant or giantess. Horatio was the offspring of two half-giants, and his size was always marveled at. Horatio lived on the grounds of Hogwarts, in an extension of the old castle, with his father and mother. (The house was a bit crowded with even the three of them in it all at once.)

Jaidon saw his older cousins - Kieran, Soleil (a recent graduate of Hogwarts), Josie, Emily, Ethan, Seth, Priscilla, Preston, Françoise, Jean- Luc, and Bianca occupying two tables (that they had pushed together to form one big table) in the middle of the room. They were joined by a tall, good- looking teenager by the name of Marius Shacklebolt, and his younger sister Danica.

Jaidon listened as Leila and Oz were conversing vigorously about how Gryffindor needed to start coming up with some better strategies for winning their games.

"Marius will be wanting us to practice a lot more," Leila sighed. "I know you'll make the team, Oz. We're in need of a new beater, and we also need a chaser and a seeker. I cannot wait for try-outs. I hope that we have more able people try out this year."

"I'm definitely trying out," Oz said. "Too bad Soleil is gone. She was an excellent beater."

"We're going to need to learn more moves if we ever want to beat Slytherin."

"And McGonnagal's counting on Gryffindor taking the Quidditch Cup. It's been fifteen years since we won it last..."

Horatio leaned over the table and said to Jaidon, "You think we'll make it into Gryffindor?"

Jaidon nodded his head yes, even though he wasn't certain himself. "Families usually get sorted into the same house. My mum and dad were in Gryffindor. Leila's in Gryffindor. All my aunts and uncles, and most of my cousins were in it. My grandparents as well. And I'm sure you'll be put in Gryffindor too. You're as brave as they come. You have to deal with all your dad's...massive...creatures..."

Horatio laughed. "That's true, it does require loads of bravery, just waking up every morning, not knowing if a gargantuan bumble bee is about to attack you..."

"Well, let's not worry about being sorted right now," Jaidon replied. "Besides, the Sorting Hat never makes a mistake. My dad says so."

At the table where Harry was seated, there was a deafening silence from both Harry and Hermione. Hermione was reading a pocket-sized version of the book Infamous Aurors of Europe by Zelda Zurbini. Harry sat with his arms folded across his chest, staring into the foam of his butterbeer. Fred and George were explaining to Ginny how to work a Swizzling Skivvies.

"The person who wears them won't know the difference," Fred said. "They look no different than real skivvies. Even Muggles can't tell the difference. Anyway, after about an hour or so of wear, they start making this swishing noise. It will get increasingly louder. Eventually, they will start to form a wedgie..."

"That's got to hurt," said Ginny.

"Well that's the point of it!" exclaimed George.

"And to think people actually buy those things," Ginny sighed.

"Hey! You're the one who bought seven Portable Swamps!" Fred replied. "I mean, they really were popular there for awhile -"

"-after we ditched Hogwarts," added George. "They were in great demand after that."

After they had finished at the Leaky Cauldron, Fred and George said good- bye, having to go back and close up the shop. Ginny was taking Maeve home early, so she left too. Bill and Fleur Weasley had taken their children home as well, since they both had to attend a Gringotts Employee Meeting early the following morning. Horatio Hagrid would be staying with the Potters until school started back up the following Monday.

Harry and Hermione were sitting outside of Ollivander's (the kids were inside looking at wands - Jaidon and Horatio were looking for their own). The silence between them was impenetrable it seemed. Harry hated it. Hermione was his best friend and the only person to really talk to subsequent what happened with Ron. And now, with this unendurable silence between them, they sat there, staring at the ground. Finally, Harry could not stand it anymore. He had to speak, say something - anything!

"So, er..." he started, blundering over his words as he went. "How is that book you're, um, reading?"

"Which one?" Hermione asked quietly, not even taking her eyes off the ground beneath her feet.

"The Infamous Aurors one. Is it any good?"

"It's alright. It has three whole chapters on Mad-Eye Moody."

"Really? He's still alive, isn't he?"

"Oh yeah, he sure is."

"But he's got to be a hundred or so by now."

"You know Moody. He always wants to be around in hopes that someone will attempt to mug him or something."

Harry let out a little laugh. "You're right. I haven't seen him in a long time though. Seems like ages."

"Well, we haven't seen him since before Ron...umm..." Hermione's voice trailed off. She did not want to finish the sentence.

"Betrayed us?"

Hermione nodded her head "yes".

"You know, deep down, I still cannot come to terms with what he did," Harry said, anger rising, his tone of voice getting irate. "I still don't want to believe that one of my best friends in the whole world could just turn like that."

Hermione felt tears swelling in her eyes. She looked over at Ron, who was standing in the window of Ollivander's, with his back turned to them.

"Harry, please, let's not talk about it. Not now," she pleaded.

Harry found he had been clinching his fists, and they were starting to turn white.

"Yeah. I don't think I can talk about it right now," Harry sighed.

At that moment, everyone emerged from the shop. Jaidon was holding out his brand new, 9 ½ cedar wand with a scale of a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon inside it. He was beaming with pride.

"Look, Dad! Isn't it great?!?!" Jaidon cried, hurrying to show his father his new wand.

Harry stood up and straightened himself out.

"There's just one more thing," Harry said. "You need a new broom." He smiled and winked at Jaidon, as if they were buying it in secret.

They walked down to the shop and picket out Jaidon's broom. It was one of the latest models, a Phantom X Firebolt. Harry had not bothered to tell Jaidon exactly how expensive the broom was. He'd made Jaidon wait outside with the others. When Harry emerged from the shop with the broom in his hand, Jaidon could not believe what he was seeing. The Phantom X Firebolt was the best broom. It had a great grip and could get up to unfathomable speeds. It also was covered in a special water-repellant potion guaranteed to last up to 25 years.

"Dad, this is great," Jaidon said happily. "I wish I could try out for Quidditch."

"Imagine," Leila sighed, "the look on the Slytherin team's faces when they see a Phantom X Firebolt. Jaidon, you HAVE to try out. I don't care what McGonagall says about age requirements. I know you're a good keeper and seeker. We could use some talent...and a really awesome broom...we're all stuck on Comet 5000s or worse."

Harry handed the broom to his son. "Seekers run in the family, Jaidon," he whispered into Jaidon's ear. He patted his son on the shoulder and said, "You'll do fine. And don't listen to the whole age requirement thing. I was a first year when I started, and it was all McGonagall's idea."

"Thanks, Dad."

And they walked off into the sunset, catching the last bus for home.