*****Author's Note---
Thanks to my dear reviewers! Remember, to everyone reading, PLEASE review. It'd be nice to know that there are more than 5 folk reading. PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE.
Thank you all for your nice comments! If you have any criticisms, feel free. Or, if you'd rather, you can email me with them.
To Sasinak— Yes, you will be seeing more of Wormtail in this story. Actually, he plays a fairly important part. In a way. (cryptic much?)
Anyway, enjoy Chapter Four. Just an FYI, I've got rough drafts of the story up to chapter eight, and extrememly rough drafts of some later chapters. And there will be a New Sorting Song later on!
Keep reading! -mary-ruth*********
Chapter Four
Arguments and OWLs
A few hours after breakfast, the doorbell rang. Harry had been reading a book quietly in the room he shared with Ron, but the sudden explosion of noise downstairs caused him to throw it down in frustration. He hated this house. He didn't want it.
He was just heading downstairs to see who had arrived when he was hit by a bushy brown blur.
"Oh, Harry! I was so worried! Everyone is saying that you're dead! All over! The Quibbler ran a retrospective on your life with three pages piecing your death together from witness accounts. It's horrible! And I was so worried, but then Hedwig came and I thought that that was a sign. And it was! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!"
"Nice to see you too, Hermione," Harry said, peeling her arms away from around his neck, but smiling.
"I was so scared, Harry. That was brilliant, though, sending Hedwig."
"My idea," said Ron, from the doorway. He looked unusually smug.
"Really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Good one, Ron."
Ron grinned a bit stupidly.
"You have to tell me everything that happened," Hermione said to Harry, "but I'd like a glass of water first, if that's okay. I came on the knight bus again… and you know what it's like."
"I'll tell you downstairs," said Harry, although he was reluctant to talk about it again. He wished that he could just ask Ron to tell her, but he thought that might be unfair to Hermione. In some ways, he missed his privacy at Privet Drive.
The three of them walked down to the kitchen, Hermione and Ron talking the whole way. They opened the door and Hermione stopped.
Ginny was sitting at the table, a glass of pumpkin juice in front of her. Across from her sat Mira, who was leaning over a glass of chocolate milk.
"Oh, hello," Mira said leaning back. "You must be Hermione."
Hermione smiled uncertainly. "Yes."
"I'm Mira McKinney. I just started as housekeeper for the Order. Sorry I didn't answer the door—Ginny was asking me about my family. Would you like a glass of pumpkin juice? Or I could make you some chocolate milk."
"Er," Hermione said. She looked at Ron who was still frowning at Mira.
Mira got down three glasses and a flagon of juice and sat it all on the table. She took her own glass, and stepped away. "I expect you all have a lot to catch up on. Just shout if you need me."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat down at the table. "You were talking to her, Ginny? What's she like?" Ron demanded.
"She seems nice enough," Ginny shrugged. "She's a little… I don't know, odd. She seems to mix up words and run things together, but she seems okay. I still don't trust her as far as I can throw her, though."
"Housekeeper for the Order?" Hermione asked. "Since when does the Order have a housekeeper?"
"It was bizarre, Hermione!" Ginny said. "She just showed up here last night, unexpected. No one knew who she was, everyone was scared. And then this morning, Dumbledore says that he invited her in the first place."
"We don't know what's really going on," Harry added darkly.
"But Dumbledore must have invited her," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Otherwise, how could she have gotten around the Fidelius charm? She should have been able to walk right up to the front door of the house and still not know she was here. So how could she—?"
"The question of the day," Ron muttered.
"I'll have to think about it later," Hermione frowned. "If only we had the library nearby! But for now, Harry, tell me what happened."
Between the three of them, they managed to recount the entire story for Hermione. It was Harry's first time to hear about the night from the Weasleys' point of view. Hermione was a good audience—she gasped when she was supposed to and was properly relieved at the end.
"Oh Harry, it must have been dreadful for you!" she said.
"So what else is new," Harry muttered darkly. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, and the entire table lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Harry put his forehead down on the table. He suddenly felt another strong desire to be alone.
"Oh, come on, Harry. Quit feeling sorry for yourself," Ginny said.
Harry jerked upright and glared at her. "You don't know what it's like," he muttered.
"Not firsthand, no," she snapped back. "But I've been around you long enough to have a pretty good idea. You're brilliant at facing down danger, but once it's over, all you do is mope around and feel sorry for yourself. Or else you spend all your time shouting at your friends. You've been halfway human, if a bit gloomy, for the last few days—please don't go back into hermit mode now." Her eyes were fixed unblinking on Harry, defiant.
Harry stared back at her. He didn't know how to respond.
Hermione's jaw had dropped. "Ginny!" she said.
"Somebody needed to say it." Her eyes still didn't leave Harry's face.
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Harry finally managed. "You sit here, with your whole family around you—you've never had to face what I've faced! And do it all alone! You don't know what it's like to lose people you—" Harry's voice suddenly faltered. He was trying to stifle his urge to shout—he didn't dare give Ginny the satisfaction. How dare she!
"I was there, too, you know! I've been possessed by Voldemort before. But that's not what you really want to say, is it? That's not what's really bothering you. You weren't the only one to lose Sirius, you know," Ginny scowled. "You could talk about it. We're all hurting Harry. But it's not doing you any good to just sit around feeling sorry for yourself."
"I DON'T BLOODY HAVE A CHOICE!" Harry shouted, jumping out of his chair. Hermione squeaked in surprise. He caught himself and took a breath to calm down. "I'm dead, remember? Forbidden to leave the house. What am I supposed to do?"
Ginny stood up and glared right back at him. "For a start, you could try working out how those Death Eaters managed to attack you! Or who Mira really is and what she's doing here. Or you could find something to do that doesn't involve moping around and depressing the rest of us!"
Now Ron stood up, his face bright red. "Ginny! What has gotten into you? Leave Harry alone, already!"
Harry and Ginny glared at each other. Finally, she leaned back in her chair. She looked away from the other three (Hermione's jaw was still down as she stared wide-eyed at Ginny). "Fine. But I'm not sorry I said it."
Harry stepped away from the table. "I don't… I can't believe you," he said. Ginny didn't answer. She just stared away at the wall, her red hair glinting angrily in the kitchen light.
"Harry—" Hermione began, but he didn't want to listen to her try to calm him down. He knocked his chair over as he stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He didn't care what they'd told him. He wasn't staying in the house right now. He needed some time alone to cool off. He was going for a walk.
Harry stomped up the stairs and into the entryway. He blinked, trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He fumbled on the wall for the light switch.
"Going somewhere, Harry?"
Harry jumped, and turned around. Mira was silhouetted in the light from the stairs.
"I'm going for a walk. Stay out of my way," he snapped at her.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry. People are out there right now risking their lives trying to keep you safe. Why don't you let them do that?" Mira's tone was totally level, and she made no move to stop him.
"What do you know about it, Mira?" He snapped.
"Not much," she replied. "I'm new here, and no one really trusts me. But I do know that if you go for a walk in downtown London right now, you probably won't be coming back again."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take," he said. "I'm a lot stronger than anyone thinks, you know." He reached into his pocket and grabbed the handle of his wand.
"Going to curse me just to get outside, Harry?" Mira said, her tone as light as ever.
"If I have to," Harry said. But he realized he really didn't want to. He was still mad, but he wasn't mad at Mira.
"No, you won't, Harry. Because you are a good person who, no matter how angry he is, won't curse an unarmed woman with no means of self defense."
Harry just glared at her. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come away from the front door," Mira responded.
Harry stood there for a moment, hesitant. "Fine," Harry said.
He stomped away from the door and pushed past her and up the stairs. He slammed open the door to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, letting his anger seethe. But what really hurt was the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that had been there ever since Sirius died.
That was why I'm so mad at Ginny, a little voice muttered. Because she was right. Because I know I'm moping. But I don't know what else to do. I don't want to do anything else.
"Shut up," Harry told the little voice.
"I didn't say anything!" Phineas Nigellus protested.
It felt like hours passed. Finally, the door opened. "Harry?" Ron said. "It's time for lunch. Aren't you hungry?"
"No," said Harry, trying to ignore his growling stomach.
"If you stay up here, you'll just convince Ginny she's right," Ron said. Harry looked up. He wanted to stay here and be alone for a while, but at the same time, he really wanted to prove Ginny wrong.
He got up, and followed Ron down to the kitchen. A lot of people seemed to have come back for lunch, including Mrs. Weasley and Fred and George, and Ron and Harry slid into their seats as Mira dished up servings of fried chicken. Hermione grinned at Harry weakly. Ginny refused to look at him.
Harry didn't say much for the entire meal, but he did laugh when Ron ate a slice of apple that turned his skin a bright, vibrant green. With his red hair, he looked like some kind of peculiar Christmas decoration.
"Fred! George! How many times do I have to tell you? NOT WHILE WE'RE EATING!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.
"Sorry, mum, but we had to give it a try! New item! The Fluorescent Fruits Line!" George said proudly.
"A single bite will turn your entire body into a luminous shade of the color of your choice! Excellent at parties, works well under black light," Fred grinned. "A steal at ten sickles a box. Of course, the effects are only temporary. He'll fade in a moment."
"Listen," said Mrs. Weasley, brandishing her spoon like a wand, "I can understand the joke shop. I had higher ambitions for you, but heaven knows I only want my children to be happy. And since someone—" her eyes darted to Harry for only a fraction of a second "—saw fit to help you get started, I have no intention of standing in your way. But if you don't stop testing out that trick food on your brother and sister, so help me boys, I'll transfigure the both of you into wombats!"
"Fair enough, Mum," Fred nodded. "Although I wouldn't mind knowing what exactly a wombat looks like."
"Ginny, don't eat that slice of apple, there," George said, pointing to a sliver of apple almost indecipherable from the rest. "Unless you fancy being Passion Pink for a while. These little beauties are going to sell like hotcakes."
Ron, whose skin had already faded to an amusing lime color, nudged Harry's elbow. "A week ago, they tried out their Hiccupping Ham on Mum. She had hiccups for hours until they gave her the antidote. And then, the next day, they slipped Ginny some Chilly-Chili Beans. She turned into a penguin, right then and there. She was stuck that way for hours because we couldn't stop Mum shouting at Fred and George long enough to untransfigure her," he murmured under his breath. Harry grinned. He wished he could have seen it.
Ginny, however, didn't speak to Harry for the rest of the meal, or the rest of the day. Even when they were in the same room together, they avoided talking to each other. Harry could tell the whole thing was making Ron and Hermione uncomfortable; Hermione's expression reminded him of fourth year when he and Ron had been not-speaking to each other.
One afternoon, they were sitting around in the drawing room, playing a game of gobstones while Mira danced around in the hallway, scraping mold off the wallpaper. She had her headphones on—she seemed to almost always listen to music while she was working—so they weren't too worried about discussing her.
"I don't buy that cover story for a minute, do you Hermione?" Ron said, flicking his gobstone.
Hermione, who wasn't playing, was sitting on the floor nearby with a book perched on her lap. "No," she said, biting her lip. "But what I can't figure out—besides how she got past the Fidelius charm, of course—is why they'd just let her into headquarters like this! It seems irresponsible."
"Lupin doesn't trust her, you can tell that," Harry said, dodging as a gobstone let out a stream of foul smelling liquid, which missed his face by centimeters. "He won't talk in front of her." As the full moon had been the night before, Lupin had barely been out of his room. But, the few times he had emerged, he had been unusually short with Mira, which was pretty unusual for Lupin. Harry would have thought he could get along with his own worst enemy. Mira didn't appear to have noticed. She was just as nice and polite to him as to anyone else.
"Nor does Mum, although I think Mira won Dad over when she gave him those batteries," Ron said. "What do you suppose she wants? She's too cheerful all the time. It's unnatural."
"And she's always the last one to bed and the first one up—but she never looks tired," Harry observed.
"Maybe she's a vampire. They don't need much sleep," Ron suggested.
"Her? A vampire?" Harry raised an eyebrow incredulously. "If she's a vampire, I'll eat my Firebolt."
"She could be a spy for Voldemort," Hermione frowned. "But she seems so… innocuous. Air headed even. And anyway, she's helping way too much."
"Yeah, like Snape isn't?" Ron muttered. "You can just imagine him out there, running around with the Death Eaters… threatening wizards, chasing muggles… Probably threatening to drip nose grease on them if he catches them."
Ginny chuckled, but stopped suddenly as though she just remembered herself, and went back to reading her own book.
Harry leaned back. "We have got to get out of this place. If I'm trapped in here for one more day… If only we could get out and play a little quidditch or something!"
"Fat chance of that," Ron said, lining up a gobstone to shoot. "Unless you become an animagus—"
Hermione jabbed Ron suddenly, so that his gobstone missed the others entirely and shot across the room. It let a stream of juice at the wall, leaving a nasty stain there that Mira would probably be tackling later. Harry sighed. "It's okay, Hermione," he said quietly. "I don't think he'd want us to pretend he didn't exist." He twisted the ring on his finger. Its cool, smooth weight was somehow comforting. It felt very real, very solid.
"Oh!" said Hermione. "Well, Harry, that's very… er, very…"
"Impressive," Ginny suggested quietly.
"Thank you," Harry said in a falsely cheery voice. Ginny didn't look up.
"Now if we could only get the two of you to make up," Hermione sighed.
"Happily, once she apologizes," Harry said.
"Me?" Ginny frowned. "I didn't say anything I didn't mean Harry. You always do this! You always get upset, and then mope around and avoid everyone. Remember last Christmas?"
"That was different!" Harry shouted. He remembered last Christmas all too well—the way he had thought that Voldemort was possessing him. But in that case, he was staying away from everybody in case Voldemort was using him as a weapon and he turned out to be dangerous.
"It's exactly the same," Ginny shouted back.
"Honestly, Ginny, what's your problem?" Ron shouted at her. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately! Did you and Dean have a fight or something?"
"Leave Dean out of this," Ginny said. She slammed her book shut and stalked out of the room.
"If Dean can handle her, then he's got more patience than I thought," Harry muttered. "She's like a walking mood-swing."
"Hey, what's going on?" Mira said, coming through the door, her headphones askew. "One minute, everything's nice and peaceful, the next, Ginny nearly knocks me over! Are you lot still fighting?"
Nearly an entire dismal week went by that way, until one morning at breakfast, Harry and Ginny were furiously trying to pretend the other person didn't exist, despite the fact that they were the only two at the table. Everyone else was away on missions for the Order, except for Ron and Hermione, who were still asleep. Harry had managed to be intensely interested in his sausages, and Ginny was busily drawing smiley faces on her pancakes with the maple syrup.
Mira slammed down a milk jug. The sudden clunk made them both jump. "Okay, that's it. I know teenagers can be unbearable, but if I have to persist one more day in these conditions—"
"Sorry, if you have to what?" Ginny said in sugary tones.
"Persist. Last? Endure?" Mira said.
"Endure one more day—" Ginny prompted.
"Of you two giving each other the cold shoulder, I'm going to go nuts. Harry," she said, pointing a greasy spatula at him, "Ginny had a point. I know you are still hurting, and everyone deals with grief in their own way, but retreating into solitude and letting your wounds fester is not going to help. However, Ginny could have made the point better. Ginny," she said, wheeling around, "Harry had a point too. No matter how sympathetic you may be, you don't understand what he's going through, and even if you did, it really wasn't your place to say. There. Now that's all cleared up. Shake hands and be friends again."
Harry glared at Ginny for a moment; she glared right back. Finally, he reached tentatively across the table. She took his hand; they shook.
"Excellent!" Mira beamed. "Well, now that that's done, I'm going to go wake up Mr. Moody. He goes on duty in an hour," she said, walking out of the room.
Harry and Ginny sat in silence for a minute. Then, suddenly, Ginny spoke.
"Can you believe that? She was talking to us like we're children!"
"Yeah," Harry said. "If only Fred and George were here. We could slip her some fluorescent fruit."
"That'd show her," Ginny said, grinning back. "I think I still have a bit of that Passion Pink apple slice upstairs." Her grin faded. "I am sorry I upset you, Harry." she said, her voice quiet.
"I'm sorry I blew up at you," he said finally.
Ron came down to breakfast, his hair rumpled. He stopped and took in the sight of Harry and Ginny both in the same room grinning. "So the two of you have stopped fighting, then?" he said.
"I think so," Harry said. Ginny grinned.
That afternoon, an owl arrived, carrying a thick package from the Ministry of Magic.
"Our OWLs!" Hermione shrieked, nearly dancing in delight. "I'm so nervous—I wonder how I did?"
Harry groaned. He didn't want to think how he'd done on his OWLs. He had been a bit preoccupied during a few of the tests. In fact, at the mere sight of the envelope, his scar began to hurt. He rubbed it with the back of his hand.
"Eurgh, I have to take those this year," Ginny frowned. "I hope they go a bit better than last year."
"Definitely couldn't go any worse," Ron said.
"They could," Mira joined in as she handed out the envelopes. "You never know when the ministry might pass an educational decree that all exams shall be henceforth taken while wearing regulation pink frilly dresses to prevent cheating."
They all exchanged a look. Harry raised an eyebrow at Mira, who blushed. "Well, it would bother me," she said quietly, pulling her headphones back on and wandering back over to her chair where she was mending a torn curtain.
"If she were any more of an airhead," Ron muttered, "she'd float away."
"It's almost like she just doesn't understand things. Even easy things like jokes," Hermione said. Of course her eyes never left her envelope.
They all clutched their envelopes anxiously. Harry looked at Ron, who was looking as green as if he'd eaten another Fluorescent Fruit. He was staring at Hermione, who was licking her lips nervously.
"So," said Hermione finally. She looked at the other two. "Who goes first?"
"Maybe you should wait until Mum's home," Ginny suggested.
"No way," Ron said. "If I've got any Ds in there, I'll need some time to prepare."
"Let's go all at the same time," Harry said. "On the count of three."
"Wait, does that mean we count to three and then rip, or we rip on three?" Ron said meekly.
"Three and then rip," Hermione said exasperatedly. "And Ron, do calm down! Okay, sure, maybe these test results will determine your entire future, but however bad it is, there's nothing you can do about it now."
"Thanks Hermione, that makes me feel so much better," Ron muttered, his greenish tint intensifying so much that Harry wondered whether the fluorescent fruit had some sort of permanent effect on Ron's skin tone.
They each gripped the edge of the envelope, and counted together.
"One. Two. Three!" Riiiip!
Harry pulled the thick parchment out of the envelope. His scar prickled painfully, maybe just because he was nervous. He looked at the first sheet, which bore the crest of the Wizarding Examinations Authority at the top.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
Please find the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLs) below. If you have any further inquiries, please direct them to the Wizarding Examinations Authority, care of Mr. Horace Trogblotter, Undersecretary.
Thank you,
Griselda Marchbanks."
Affixed to the parchment was a smaller sheet which listed his exam scores.
"Astronomy: A
Care of Magical Creatures: O
Charms: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Divinations: P
Herbology: E
History of Magic: A
Potions: E
Transfiguration: E"
Harry gaped at the paper. An E in potions? He had thought he had maybe mustered an A for acceptable, but an E? He was speechless. That was… well, exceeding his expectations. Still he remembered McGonagall's words at his career advising meeting. "To be an auror, you'll need to take potions, Potter, and Professor Snape doesn't take students into his NEWT level class with less than an Outstanding score."
Hermione sighed audibly with relief. "Thank goodness. I was really worried about astronomy, after what happened," Hermione said. Harry guessed she had gotten all Os. "How did you two do?" Her cheeks were flushed again, this time with apparent glee.
"Better than I expected," Ron said, smiling weakly. "I got a couple of Es, and an O in Dark Arts! Only one P and no Ds."
"Me too," Harry said, smiling with relief. "Got the P in divinations. No more crystal balls and death predictions for me." Harry had had enough prophecies to last him the rest of his life.
"Mum should be pleased," Ginny said cheerfully. "Well, not about the P of course, but the rest of it. I expect we'll have another party tonight!"
"We should celebrate now!" Mira chirped. They all turned to look at her—Harry had forgotten she was there. "I just baked some chocolate chip cookies… would you like some?"
They all trooped down to the kitchen. They spread their letters around them on the table, and ate the gooey, still-hot biscuits, talking excitedly to one another. Ron was halfway through an elaborate reenactment of his quidditch tryout, which he was describing for Ginny, when a sudden commotion upstairs froze them all.
Mira stood bolt upright. "Stay here," she said, ripping off her headphones and dropping them on the table. "I'll call you if it's safe." She ran up the stairs.
"This is getting ridiculous," Ron groaned. "Can we go a single day without being shoved into a room and told to stay there until it's safe?"
"Whatever it is, we're safer than she is, anyway. She can't even do magic!" Hermione said.
"If they leave us down here for hours, I'm going to be furious," Ginny said, twirling her wand over her fingers dangerously.
But they didn't have long to wait. Within a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs, followed by Mira and Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Mum!" Ginny and Ron said. Her face was pale and drawn. She was twisting her hands together in a worried sort of way.
"What's happened, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.
She sighed, and sat down at the table beside them. "There's been another attack."
Thanks to my dear reviewers! Remember, to everyone reading, PLEASE review. It'd be nice to know that there are more than 5 folk reading. PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE.
Thank you all for your nice comments! If you have any criticisms, feel free. Or, if you'd rather, you can email me with them.
To Sasinak— Yes, you will be seeing more of Wormtail in this story. Actually, he plays a fairly important part. In a way. (cryptic much?)
Anyway, enjoy Chapter Four. Just an FYI, I've got rough drafts of the story up to chapter eight, and extrememly rough drafts of some later chapters. And there will be a New Sorting Song later on!
Keep reading! -mary-ruth*********
Chapter Four
Arguments and OWLs
A few hours after breakfast, the doorbell rang. Harry had been reading a book quietly in the room he shared with Ron, but the sudden explosion of noise downstairs caused him to throw it down in frustration. He hated this house. He didn't want it.
He was just heading downstairs to see who had arrived when he was hit by a bushy brown blur.
"Oh, Harry! I was so worried! Everyone is saying that you're dead! All over! The Quibbler ran a retrospective on your life with three pages piecing your death together from witness accounts. It's horrible! And I was so worried, but then Hedwig came and I thought that that was a sign. And it was! Oh, I'm so happy to see you!"
"Nice to see you too, Hermione," Harry said, peeling her arms away from around his neck, but smiling.
"I was so scared, Harry. That was brilliant, though, sending Hedwig."
"My idea," said Ron, from the doorway. He looked unusually smug.
"Really?" Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Wow. Good one, Ron."
Ron grinned a bit stupidly.
"You have to tell me everything that happened," Hermione said to Harry, "but I'd like a glass of water first, if that's okay. I came on the knight bus again… and you know what it's like."
"I'll tell you downstairs," said Harry, although he was reluctant to talk about it again. He wished that he could just ask Ron to tell her, but he thought that might be unfair to Hermione. In some ways, he missed his privacy at Privet Drive.
The three of them walked down to the kitchen, Hermione and Ron talking the whole way. They opened the door and Hermione stopped.
Ginny was sitting at the table, a glass of pumpkin juice in front of her. Across from her sat Mira, who was leaning over a glass of chocolate milk.
"Oh, hello," Mira said leaning back. "You must be Hermione."
Hermione smiled uncertainly. "Yes."
"I'm Mira McKinney. I just started as housekeeper for the Order. Sorry I didn't answer the door—Ginny was asking me about my family. Would you like a glass of pumpkin juice? Or I could make you some chocolate milk."
"Er," Hermione said. She looked at Ron who was still frowning at Mira.
Mira got down three glasses and a flagon of juice and sat it all on the table. She took her own glass, and stepped away. "I expect you all have a lot to catch up on. Just shout if you need me."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat down at the table. "You were talking to her, Ginny? What's she like?" Ron demanded.
"She seems nice enough," Ginny shrugged. "She's a little… I don't know, odd. She seems to mix up words and run things together, but she seems okay. I still don't trust her as far as I can throw her, though."
"Housekeeper for the Order?" Hermione asked. "Since when does the Order have a housekeeper?"
"It was bizarre, Hermione!" Ginny said. "She just showed up here last night, unexpected. No one knew who she was, everyone was scared. And then this morning, Dumbledore says that he invited her in the first place."
"We don't know what's really going on," Harry added darkly.
"But Dumbledore must have invited her," Hermione said thoughtfully. "Otherwise, how could she have gotten around the Fidelius charm? She should have been able to walk right up to the front door of the house and still not know she was here. So how could she—?"
"The question of the day," Ron muttered.
"I'll have to think about it later," Hermione frowned. "If only we had the library nearby! But for now, Harry, tell me what happened."
Between the three of them, they managed to recount the entire story for Hermione. It was Harry's first time to hear about the night from the Weasleys' point of view. Hermione was a good audience—she gasped when she was supposed to and was properly relieved at the end.
"Oh Harry, it must have been dreadful for you!" she said.
"So what else is new," Harry muttered darkly. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance, and the entire table lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Harry put his forehead down on the table. He suddenly felt another strong desire to be alone.
"Oh, come on, Harry. Quit feeling sorry for yourself," Ginny said.
Harry jerked upright and glared at her. "You don't know what it's like," he muttered.
"Not firsthand, no," she snapped back. "But I've been around you long enough to have a pretty good idea. You're brilliant at facing down danger, but once it's over, all you do is mope around and feel sorry for yourself. Or else you spend all your time shouting at your friends. You've been halfway human, if a bit gloomy, for the last few days—please don't go back into hermit mode now." Her eyes were fixed unblinking on Harry, defiant.
Harry stared back at her. He didn't know how to respond.
Hermione's jaw had dropped. "Ginny!" she said.
"Somebody needed to say it." Her eyes still didn't leave Harry's face.
"You have no idea what you're talking about!" Harry finally managed. "You sit here, with your whole family around you—you've never had to face what I've faced! And do it all alone! You don't know what it's like to lose people you—" Harry's voice suddenly faltered. He was trying to stifle his urge to shout—he didn't dare give Ginny the satisfaction. How dare she!
"I was there, too, you know! I've been possessed by Voldemort before. But that's not what you really want to say, is it? That's not what's really bothering you. You weren't the only one to lose Sirius, you know," Ginny scowled. "You could talk about it. We're all hurting Harry. But it's not doing you any good to just sit around feeling sorry for yourself."
"I DON'T BLOODY HAVE A CHOICE!" Harry shouted, jumping out of his chair. Hermione squeaked in surprise. He caught himself and took a breath to calm down. "I'm dead, remember? Forbidden to leave the house. What am I supposed to do?"
Ginny stood up and glared right back at him. "For a start, you could try working out how those Death Eaters managed to attack you! Or who Mira really is and what she's doing here. Or you could find something to do that doesn't involve moping around and depressing the rest of us!"
Now Ron stood up, his face bright red. "Ginny! What has gotten into you? Leave Harry alone, already!"
Harry and Ginny glared at each other. Finally, she leaned back in her chair. She looked away from the other three (Hermione's jaw was still down as she stared wide-eyed at Ginny). "Fine. But I'm not sorry I said it."
Harry stepped away from the table. "I don't… I can't believe you," he said. Ginny didn't answer. She just stared away at the wall, her red hair glinting angrily in the kitchen light.
"Harry—" Hermione began, but he didn't want to listen to her try to calm him down. He knocked his chair over as he stalked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. He didn't care what they'd told him. He wasn't staying in the house right now. He needed some time alone to cool off. He was going for a walk.
Harry stomped up the stairs and into the entryway. He blinked, trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the gloom. He fumbled on the wall for the light switch.
"Going somewhere, Harry?"
Harry jumped, and turned around. Mira was silhouetted in the light from the stairs.
"I'm going for a walk. Stay out of my way," he snapped at her.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry. People are out there right now risking their lives trying to keep you safe. Why don't you let them do that?" Mira's tone was totally level, and she made no move to stop him.
"What do you know about it, Mira?" He snapped.
"Not much," she replied. "I'm new here, and no one really trusts me. But I do know that if you go for a walk in downtown London right now, you probably won't be coming back again."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take," he said. "I'm a lot stronger than anyone thinks, you know." He reached into his pocket and grabbed the handle of his wand.
"Going to curse me just to get outside, Harry?" Mira said, her tone as light as ever.
"If I have to," Harry said. But he realized he really didn't want to. He was still mad, but he wasn't mad at Mira.
"No, you won't, Harry. Because you are a good person who, no matter how angry he is, won't curse an unarmed woman with no means of self defense."
Harry just glared at her. "What do you want?"
"I want you to come away from the front door," Mira responded.
Harry stood there for a moment, hesitant. "Fine," Harry said.
He stomped away from the door and pushed past her and up the stairs. He slammed open the door to his bedroom and flopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, letting his anger seethe. But what really hurt was the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that had been there ever since Sirius died.
That was why I'm so mad at Ginny, a little voice muttered. Because she was right. Because I know I'm moping. But I don't know what else to do. I don't want to do anything else.
"Shut up," Harry told the little voice.
"I didn't say anything!" Phineas Nigellus protested.
It felt like hours passed. Finally, the door opened. "Harry?" Ron said. "It's time for lunch. Aren't you hungry?"
"No," said Harry, trying to ignore his growling stomach.
"If you stay up here, you'll just convince Ginny she's right," Ron said. Harry looked up. He wanted to stay here and be alone for a while, but at the same time, he really wanted to prove Ginny wrong.
He got up, and followed Ron down to the kitchen. A lot of people seemed to have come back for lunch, including Mrs. Weasley and Fred and George, and Ron and Harry slid into their seats as Mira dished up servings of fried chicken. Hermione grinned at Harry weakly. Ginny refused to look at him.
Harry didn't say much for the entire meal, but he did laugh when Ron ate a slice of apple that turned his skin a bright, vibrant green. With his red hair, he looked like some kind of peculiar Christmas decoration.
"Fred! George! How many times do I have to tell you? NOT WHILE WE'RE EATING!" Mrs. Weasley shouted.
"Sorry, mum, but we had to give it a try! New item! The Fluorescent Fruits Line!" George said proudly.
"A single bite will turn your entire body into a luminous shade of the color of your choice! Excellent at parties, works well under black light," Fred grinned. "A steal at ten sickles a box. Of course, the effects are only temporary. He'll fade in a moment."
"Listen," said Mrs. Weasley, brandishing her spoon like a wand, "I can understand the joke shop. I had higher ambitions for you, but heaven knows I only want my children to be happy. And since someone—" her eyes darted to Harry for only a fraction of a second "—saw fit to help you get started, I have no intention of standing in your way. But if you don't stop testing out that trick food on your brother and sister, so help me boys, I'll transfigure the both of you into wombats!"
"Fair enough, Mum," Fred nodded. "Although I wouldn't mind knowing what exactly a wombat looks like."
"Ginny, don't eat that slice of apple, there," George said, pointing to a sliver of apple almost indecipherable from the rest. "Unless you fancy being Passion Pink for a while. These little beauties are going to sell like hotcakes."
Ron, whose skin had already faded to an amusing lime color, nudged Harry's elbow. "A week ago, they tried out their Hiccupping Ham on Mum. She had hiccups for hours until they gave her the antidote. And then, the next day, they slipped Ginny some Chilly-Chili Beans. She turned into a penguin, right then and there. She was stuck that way for hours because we couldn't stop Mum shouting at Fred and George long enough to untransfigure her," he murmured under his breath. Harry grinned. He wished he could have seen it.
Ginny, however, didn't speak to Harry for the rest of the meal, or the rest of the day. Even when they were in the same room together, they avoided talking to each other. Harry could tell the whole thing was making Ron and Hermione uncomfortable; Hermione's expression reminded him of fourth year when he and Ron had been not-speaking to each other.
One afternoon, they were sitting around in the drawing room, playing a game of gobstones while Mira danced around in the hallway, scraping mold off the wallpaper. She had her headphones on—she seemed to almost always listen to music while she was working—so they weren't too worried about discussing her.
"I don't buy that cover story for a minute, do you Hermione?" Ron said, flicking his gobstone.
Hermione, who wasn't playing, was sitting on the floor nearby with a book perched on her lap. "No," she said, biting her lip. "But what I can't figure out—besides how she got past the Fidelius charm, of course—is why they'd just let her into headquarters like this! It seems irresponsible."
"Lupin doesn't trust her, you can tell that," Harry said, dodging as a gobstone let out a stream of foul smelling liquid, which missed his face by centimeters. "He won't talk in front of her." As the full moon had been the night before, Lupin had barely been out of his room. But, the few times he had emerged, he had been unusually short with Mira, which was pretty unusual for Lupin. Harry would have thought he could get along with his own worst enemy. Mira didn't appear to have noticed. She was just as nice and polite to him as to anyone else.
"Nor does Mum, although I think Mira won Dad over when she gave him those batteries," Ron said. "What do you suppose she wants? She's too cheerful all the time. It's unnatural."
"And she's always the last one to bed and the first one up—but she never looks tired," Harry observed.
"Maybe she's a vampire. They don't need much sleep," Ron suggested.
"Her? A vampire?" Harry raised an eyebrow incredulously. "If she's a vampire, I'll eat my Firebolt."
"She could be a spy for Voldemort," Hermione frowned. "But she seems so… innocuous. Air headed even. And anyway, she's helping way too much."
"Yeah, like Snape isn't?" Ron muttered. "You can just imagine him out there, running around with the Death Eaters… threatening wizards, chasing muggles… Probably threatening to drip nose grease on them if he catches them."
Ginny chuckled, but stopped suddenly as though she just remembered herself, and went back to reading her own book.
Harry leaned back. "We have got to get out of this place. If I'm trapped in here for one more day… If only we could get out and play a little quidditch or something!"
"Fat chance of that," Ron said, lining up a gobstone to shoot. "Unless you become an animagus—"
Hermione jabbed Ron suddenly, so that his gobstone missed the others entirely and shot across the room. It let a stream of juice at the wall, leaving a nasty stain there that Mira would probably be tackling later. Harry sighed. "It's okay, Hermione," he said quietly. "I don't think he'd want us to pretend he didn't exist." He twisted the ring on his finger. Its cool, smooth weight was somehow comforting. It felt very real, very solid.
"Oh!" said Hermione. "Well, Harry, that's very… er, very…"
"Impressive," Ginny suggested quietly.
"Thank you," Harry said in a falsely cheery voice. Ginny didn't look up.
"Now if we could only get the two of you to make up," Hermione sighed.
"Happily, once she apologizes," Harry said.
"Me?" Ginny frowned. "I didn't say anything I didn't mean Harry. You always do this! You always get upset, and then mope around and avoid everyone. Remember last Christmas?"
"That was different!" Harry shouted. He remembered last Christmas all too well—the way he had thought that Voldemort was possessing him. But in that case, he was staying away from everybody in case Voldemort was using him as a weapon and he turned out to be dangerous.
"It's exactly the same," Ginny shouted back.
"Honestly, Ginny, what's your problem?" Ron shouted at her. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately! Did you and Dean have a fight or something?"
"Leave Dean out of this," Ginny said. She slammed her book shut and stalked out of the room.
"If Dean can handle her, then he's got more patience than I thought," Harry muttered. "She's like a walking mood-swing."
"Hey, what's going on?" Mira said, coming through the door, her headphones askew. "One minute, everything's nice and peaceful, the next, Ginny nearly knocks me over! Are you lot still fighting?"
Nearly an entire dismal week went by that way, until one morning at breakfast, Harry and Ginny were furiously trying to pretend the other person didn't exist, despite the fact that they were the only two at the table. Everyone else was away on missions for the Order, except for Ron and Hermione, who were still asleep. Harry had managed to be intensely interested in his sausages, and Ginny was busily drawing smiley faces on her pancakes with the maple syrup.
Mira slammed down a milk jug. The sudden clunk made them both jump. "Okay, that's it. I know teenagers can be unbearable, but if I have to persist one more day in these conditions—"
"Sorry, if you have to what?" Ginny said in sugary tones.
"Persist. Last? Endure?" Mira said.
"Endure one more day—" Ginny prompted.
"Of you two giving each other the cold shoulder, I'm going to go nuts. Harry," she said, pointing a greasy spatula at him, "Ginny had a point. I know you are still hurting, and everyone deals with grief in their own way, but retreating into solitude and letting your wounds fester is not going to help. However, Ginny could have made the point better. Ginny," she said, wheeling around, "Harry had a point too. No matter how sympathetic you may be, you don't understand what he's going through, and even if you did, it really wasn't your place to say. There. Now that's all cleared up. Shake hands and be friends again."
Harry glared at Ginny for a moment; she glared right back. Finally, he reached tentatively across the table. She took his hand; they shook.
"Excellent!" Mira beamed. "Well, now that that's done, I'm going to go wake up Mr. Moody. He goes on duty in an hour," she said, walking out of the room.
Harry and Ginny sat in silence for a minute. Then, suddenly, Ginny spoke.
"Can you believe that? She was talking to us like we're children!"
"Yeah," Harry said. "If only Fred and George were here. We could slip her some fluorescent fruit."
"That'd show her," Ginny said, grinning back. "I think I still have a bit of that Passion Pink apple slice upstairs." Her grin faded. "I am sorry I upset you, Harry." she said, her voice quiet.
"I'm sorry I blew up at you," he said finally.
Ron came down to breakfast, his hair rumpled. He stopped and took in the sight of Harry and Ginny both in the same room grinning. "So the two of you have stopped fighting, then?" he said.
"I think so," Harry said. Ginny grinned.
That afternoon, an owl arrived, carrying a thick package from the Ministry of Magic.
"Our OWLs!" Hermione shrieked, nearly dancing in delight. "I'm so nervous—I wonder how I did?"
Harry groaned. He didn't want to think how he'd done on his OWLs. He had been a bit preoccupied during a few of the tests. In fact, at the mere sight of the envelope, his scar began to hurt. He rubbed it with the back of his hand.
"Eurgh, I have to take those this year," Ginny frowned. "I hope they go a bit better than last year."
"Definitely couldn't go any worse," Ron said.
"They could," Mira joined in as she handed out the envelopes. "You never know when the ministry might pass an educational decree that all exams shall be henceforth taken while wearing regulation pink frilly dresses to prevent cheating."
They all exchanged a look. Harry raised an eyebrow at Mira, who blushed. "Well, it would bother me," she said quietly, pulling her headphones back on and wandering back over to her chair where she was mending a torn curtain.
"If she were any more of an airhead," Ron muttered, "she'd float away."
"It's almost like she just doesn't understand things. Even easy things like jokes," Hermione said. Of course her eyes never left her envelope.
They all clutched their envelopes anxiously. Harry looked at Ron, who was looking as green as if he'd eaten another Fluorescent Fruit. He was staring at Hermione, who was licking her lips nervously.
"So," said Hermione finally. She looked at the other two. "Who goes first?"
"Maybe you should wait until Mum's home," Ginny suggested.
"No way," Ron said. "If I've got any Ds in there, I'll need some time to prepare."
"Let's go all at the same time," Harry said. "On the count of three."
"Wait, does that mean we count to three and then rip, or we rip on three?" Ron said meekly.
"Three and then rip," Hermione said exasperatedly. "And Ron, do calm down! Okay, sure, maybe these test results will determine your entire future, but however bad it is, there's nothing you can do about it now."
"Thanks Hermione, that makes me feel so much better," Ron muttered, his greenish tint intensifying so much that Harry wondered whether the fluorescent fruit had some sort of permanent effect on Ron's skin tone.
They each gripped the edge of the envelope, and counted together.
"One. Two. Three!" Riiiip!
Harry pulled the thick parchment out of the envelope. His scar prickled painfully, maybe just because he was nervous. He looked at the first sheet, which bore the crest of the Wizarding Examinations Authority at the top.
"Dear Mr. Potter,
Please find the results of your Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLs) below. If you have any further inquiries, please direct them to the Wizarding Examinations Authority, care of Mr. Horace Trogblotter, Undersecretary.
Thank you,
Griselda Marchbanks."
Affixed to the parchment was a smaller sheet which listed his exam scores.
"Astronomy: A
Care of Magical Creatures: O
Charms: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Divinations: P
Herbology: E
History of Magic: A
Potions: E
Transfiguration: E"
Harry gaped at the paper. An E in potions? He had thought he had maybe mustered an A for acceptable, but an E? He was speechless. That was… well, exceeding his expectations. Still he remembered McGonagall's words at his career advising meeting. "To be an auror, you'll need to take potions, Potter, and Professor Snape doesn't take students into his NEWT level class with less than an Outstanding score."
Hermione sighed audibly with relief. "Thank goodness. I was really worried about astronomy, after what happened," Hermione said. Harry guessed she had gotten all Os. "How did you two do?" Her cheeks were flushed again, this time with apparent glee.
"Better than I expected," Ron said, smiling weakly. "I got a couple of Es, and an O in Dark Arts! Only one P and no Ds."
"Me too," Harry said, smiling with relief. "Got the P in divinations. No more crystal balls and death predictions for me." Harry had had enough prophecies to last him the rest of his life.
"Mum should be pleased," Ginny said cheerfully. "Well, not about the P of course, but the rest of it. I expect we'll have another party tonight!"
"We should celebrate now!" Mira chirped. They all turned to look at her—Harry had forgotten she was there. "I just baked some chocolate chip cookies… would you like some?"
They all trooped down to the kitchen. They spread their letters around them on the table, and ate the gooey, still-hot biscuits, talking excitedly to one another. Ron was halfway through an elaborate reenactment of his quidditch tryout, which he was describing for Ginny, when a sudden commotion upstairs froze them all.
Mira stood bolt upright. "Stay here," she said, ripping off her headphones and dropping them on the table. "I'll call you if it's safe." She ran up the stairs.
"This is getting ridiculous," Ron groaned. "Can we go a single day without being shoved into a room and told to stay there until it's safe?"
"Whatever it is, we're safer than she is, anyway. She can't even do magic!" Hermione said.
"If they leave us down here for hours, I'm going to be furious," Ginny said, twirling her wand over her fingers dangerously.
But they didn't have long to wait. Within a few minutes, Mrs. Weasley came down the stairs, followed by Mira and Kingsley Shacklebolt.
"Mum!" Ginny and Ron said. Her face was pale and drawn. She was twisting her hands together in a worried sort of way.
"What's happened, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked.
She sighed, and sat down at the table beside them. "There's been another attack."