***Author's Note: Hello all!
Just a quick note. I think you'll find this chapter a bit more action packed, and two of our standing "mysteries" will be resolved.
This author's note will be continued in the Reviewer Responses section so that you can get to the story without having to listen to my rant.
This chapter dedicated to my newborn nephew!
Enjoy, kittens,
Neoepiphany***
Chapter Fifteen
Bill's Earring
With Hermione's help, Harry managed to get through all fifteen chapters of McGonagall's book in time for her lesson, even though he was now spending two nights a week and most of the weekend training the quidditch team. Ron complained that Harry was more fanatical than Angelina, but when Ginny compared him with Oliver Wood, Harry finally got the message.
"I'm not fanatical," Harry protested. "We want to win. I want us to win. There's no reason we shouldn't win! So I'm going to see to it that we do. We need time to get used to each other, but we've only got three weeks until the match against Slytherin, and—" he went on in a furiously determined voice that left no room for doubt, "—we are not going to lose."
"Okay, okay," said Dean, backing away from Harry. "We get the message. We're all doing our best, Harry. We want to win too."
"I know you do," Harry said, relaxing slightly. "I just think that since so much of the team is new, we need to spend all this time practicing—getting used to each other. You've already made great improvements. Eva, you're becoming a better scorer, and Kirke, as long as you don't get intimidated by the other team, you'll do just fine."
"Thanks," said Kirke, although he looked pale. Eva just nodded.
After that pep talk, the team submitted more willingly to Harry's endless drills and skirmishes. By mid-October, even Harry felt that they were getting pretty good, and he found himself really looking forward to the match against Slytherin in November.
His lesson with McGonagall had gone very well. Harry hadn't really mastered all the charms, but he at least knew what they were and had a pretty good handle on the more basic ones. McGonagall complimented Harry's diligence, and helped him with a few of the charms that she thought might come in useful, especially the adapted linking charms Hermione had found so exciting. Of course, at the end of the lesson, she assigned him another ten chapters, but pushed their next lesson back to December, owing to Harry's need to prepare for the quidditch match.
The short reprieve from studying for McGonagall's lesson was a welcome blessing; October had not been as easy as September. For one thing, news of missing or injured wizards, muggle killings, and cruel pranks appeared in the Daily Prophet almost daily now. No Deathe Eaters had been caught, and only a few had even been identified. The two most popular topics of conversation in the corridors between classes were You-Know-Who and his evil deeds and how much Fudge's popularity had dropped. On top of that, their other professors had apparently decided that the sixth years needed more homework, and they found themselves spending more and more evenings in the library, writing essays, drawing diagrams, and practicing the increasingly difficult charms and transfigurations they were studying in their lessons. So, Harry was among the most excited students when a notice went onto the noticeboard one cold and rainy afternoon.
"Next Hogsmeade trip's the day before Halloween," Ron said, his face lapsing into a dazed, happy grin. "Just think—we can spend the day sipping butterbeer, doing some shopping, eating Honeyduke's fudge…" His eyes flicked toward Harry. "I mean, unless we have quidditch practice that day, of course," he said warily.
But Harry was just as eager for a break as the rest of them. "Well…" he began, "the match is just the very next day… but I think we've worked hard enough… I mean, as long as we have an extra practice during the week we'll be okay. Let's have the day off."
Ron sunk into a cushy chair near the fire. "Thank heaven for that," he said.
"What are you going to do in Hogsmeade?" Hermione said, looking just as excited as Ron. "Not Zonko's?"
"Nah, who needs Zonko's when my brothers have the most successful joke shop in England? But I'll be first in the door to Honeyduke's. How about you Harry?"
"What? Oh, yes. Yes, me too," Harry said quickly, smiling. Hermione began to describe the new quills and maybe a diary that she was planning to buy, and Harry lapsed back into thought.
Secretly, a worrisome thought had just occurred to Harry. He remembered Moody's words last August. "You'll be free to move about Hogwarts grounds, but we're not sure how we'll handle Hogsmeade yet." No one had mentioned Hogsmeade since then—at least, not to Harry. Talking about the weekend had reminded Harry, and he'd had a sudden, terrible vision of Dumbledore telling him he wasn't allowed to go. Visions of third year, watching Ron and Hermione and the rest of the class disappear down the road while he had to gloomily wander the halls, filled his head. He didn't think he could stand being cooped up again, not even at Hogwarts.
Harry didn't share his concerns with Ron and Hermione because as long as no one else had mentioned it, he didn't intend to bring it up. There was no sense in reminding them of something that, with a little luck, everyone but him had forgotten. He didn't see that he was in any more danger from the Death Eaters than anybody else, and the probability of Voldemort striking in the middle of a crowded Hogsmeade shop was remote. Well, if they wouldn't let him go, there was only one thing for it: he would sneak out in the invisibility cloak.
"Oh, Harry, it's almost seven. Did you want to practice the Guardian Charm?" Hermione said suddenly.
"What?" Harry said, jerking out of his reverie.
"Are you all right?" Ron said.
"Sure, fine," Harry said quickly, although both Ron and Hermione gave him skeptical looks. "Really. Yeah, let's get a start on that charm, Hermione."
The Guardian Charm occupied Chapters 17 through 20 of "Spelles, Charmes, and Enchantmentes," and for good reason. It was, in theory, an adapted linking charm, but it was the hardest charm Harry had ever heard of, bar none. It was used to link two objects so that when a certain thing happened to one of them, a spell on the other one would be activated. In effect, the spell made one object a trigger for a spell on another object.
"Why are we even bothering?" Ron moaned after their fourth or fifth failed attempt. "What use is this spell, really? I mean, there are dozens of wards that do pretty much the same thing but with half the work."
"A ward can tell you if someone's in that area or used a certain spell, sure, but you can do a lot more with a Guardian Charm," Hermione said as she prodded a broken quill she was trying to enchant. "The ward can warn you, but a Guardian charm activates an actual spell. Like—well, you could cast the charm on a doorway, and then if anyone uses alohomora on it, you could make the doorknob explode, or something."
"The name's a bit silly," Harry said. "They ought to call it the Bomb charm, or the Trigger charm, or something."
"Well, it's more than just that, isn't it?" Hermione said. "You can charm the objects to do things besides just explode. You could charm one to glow, or become a portkey, or activate a ward, or just about anything really. It's dead useful—I imagine if it weren't such a difficult spell, people would use it a lot more."
And it was a difficult spell. First, you had to figure out the enchantment. The standard spell for a linking charm was "Coagmentum!" but you had to change it and add a special incantation for the Guardian charm. Then you had to set all your conditions, which took ages. After hours of work they had barely finished enchanting the broken quills. (If someone tried to write with the white quill, the black quill would burst into flame. They left it lying on the table in the hopes that someone would try it.) Ron, meanwhile, had had an epiphany.
"We ought to show this spell to Fred and George," he said as he prodded the quill with his wand. "They could really put it to good use—you know, inventing plates that squeal when you pick up the fork, that sort of thing."
"Have you heard from Fred and George yet?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron said, glumly. "You'd think that they'd at least tell me they got my owl."
"I'm sure they're just busy," Hermione said. Ron just scowled.
But the mystery of the twins' silence was solved the following morning. Harry and Ron were laughing while Seamus told them in detail about their quill detonating and terrifying a group of first years after they'd gone to bed. With the arrival of the mail, however, came a lot of shouting and surprised squeals. One truly huge owl was flying in with the rest of the pack, carrying a massive box wrapped in green and purple paper bearing the interlocking "WW" of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"Ron, look out!" Harry shouted.
"What?" Ron said. He looked up and jumped out of his chair just in time. The owl dropped the huge package into Ron's arms, knocking him backward. The Slytherin table burst into gales of laughter.
"Never mind them," Hermione said as she and Harry pulled Ron, clutching his package, to his feet. "They're just jealous because you got more mail than them."
"This thing weighs a ton," Ron said, but his eyes were full of delighted excitement.
"Open it," Hermione encouraged. "We've got half an hour before Herbology."
Ron ripped excitedly into the paper. A small crowd of Gryffindors had gathered around to watch, everyone egging Ron on.
"There's a letter," Ron said, handing it to Harry. "And—wow!"
Below the letter was an assortment of goodies from the Weasley's inventory, many of them already banned by Filch. There was a generous sack of Sneezing Powder, refills for their skiving Snackboxes, a selection of Florescent Fruits and Glowing Goodies, a bag of trick sweets, an Instant Door (for making people walk into walls, a good trick at Hogwarts where the doors were in the habit of moving), an exploding quaffle (which Harry quickly banned from Gryffindor practices), a selection of Wildfire Whizbangs, a jumbo box of Wailing Whiffers, Squealing Smokers, and Blaring Bouncers, and their very own Evolving Fluffblaster.
"Quick! Filch is coming! Slam the lid back on," Hermione hissed under her breath.
"We'd better get it back to the tower," Harry suggested, and he, Ron, and Hermione pushed their way out of the crowd just as Filch muscled through to where they'd been standing. He loudly sniffed the air behind him, no doubt trying to detect the presence of dungbombs. Harry and Ron held the package between them because of its substantial weight, but they managed to run back to Gryffindor tower. Ron took the letter from Harry and read it aloud.
"Dear Ron,
We were really pleased to get your letter. It's great to know that our products are being put to good use. Fred was especially tickled about the Fluffblasters—they were his idea, of course. Wish I could've seen that one on Ernie's head. We impress even ourselves sometimes.
Sorry in taking so long to reply. We decided that we couldn't have complete strangers outdoing our own brother in terms of major mischeif making, so we've gotten together this gift package for you. Consider it a very early birthday present. Mum says don't you dare use any of it, but we think you'll be all right so long as you don't get caught.
Mum and Dad send their best to you, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry, along with the usual messages warning you not to get into trouble, study hard, and so on. We're fine. Business is booming. We hired Lee Jordan to run the front counter so we have enough time to devote to creating new inventory. (We're doing a new line of trick quills that we hope to have ready before the next term starts.)
We're supposed to tell you to give Harry a message. Moody and all don't want Harry wandering around on his own in Hogsmeade, so you're going to have a guard. They'll meet you outside the front gates on the way out, and you're to stay with them no matter what. Dad says if he has any questions he should ask McGonagall or Dumbledore.
Enjoy the gifts,
George and Fred."
Harry laughed out loud, mostly with relief. So, he was going to get to go to Hogsmeade after all!
"Are you mad?" Ron said, looking at him funny. "We're going to have a—a babysitter! At Hogsmeade!"
Even Hermione looked flustered at then news. "Who will it be? We won't have any fun at all with Mundungus or Moody breathing down our necks."
"I thought you liked Moody and Mundungus," Harry said.
"I do, of course I do," Hermione said. "That's not the point. Can you imagine what'd happen if we tried to have a quiet butterbeer with Dung? He'd spend the whole time trying to convince us to go along with him to some stolen toad house or hot wand deal or something."
"Actually, that wouldn't be so bad," Ron said, looking a bit like Fred and George. "I'd love to see some stolen toads."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed, exasperatedly.
Harry's thoughts lingered on his guard, and by the end of the morning's lessons, his immediate feeling of relief had evaporated entirely—replaced by anger. Why did he need a babysitter? Hadn't he faced down Death Eaters—not to mention Voldemort himself!—as much as anyone else? More than most!
"Not one!" he said at lunch, stabbing his shepherd's pie in his irritation.
"Not one what?" said Hermione, who had just been startled out of describing the evolving fluffblaster that had bounced into her arithmancy class.
"Not one Death Eater attack has taken place anywhere near Hogsmeade," Harry muttered, further frustrated by the fact that he'd spoken aloud. "Why do I need a guard? Nothing's going to happen in a city full of wizards."
"I dunno, Harry," said Ron. "I've been thinking about it, and maybe they're right."
"What?" Harry said, scowling. "You think I need a babysitter too?"
"No—no, not that you need a babysitter, but that You-Know-Who might try something while we have the day off," Ron said quickly. "There've been a lot of attacks lately, haven't there?"
"But nowhere near here," Harry said. "And no one's died in ages."
"Harry, don't you think you're being a bit—" Hermione began.
"A bit what?" Harry snapped.
"Well," Hermione said with dignity, "a bit sensitive? I mean, you've had guards before. What about last year on the way to King's Cross? We had half the—" she lowered her voice to a whisper "—Order along then."
"Yeah," said Ron, "and what about this summer?"
"Those times were different," Harry said.
"How so?"
"They weren't Hogsmeade."
"Ah," Hermione sighed. "Well, there's no arguing with that, is there." Ron, who had opened his mouth in order to do just that, quickly closed it at Hermione's look. "I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it and hope it's someone enjoyable."
"I just had a horrible thought," Ron said, the color draining from his cheeks.
"What?" Harry and Hermione said together.
"What if it's Mum?" Ron whispered.
The time until Saturday passed in a flurry of activity for Harry. Their match against Slythering was supposed to take place on Sunday, so Harry had the Gryffindor team working extra hard in preparation. That meant that almost every night he had either practice or a private session with one of the players. He wondered if Oliver or Angelina had gone through this.
"No offense, Harry," Ron said at breakfast on Saturday morning, "but if you'd said we had to practice today, I think I would've strangled myself with my own broom."
"Yeah," Ginny added from beside him. "I think Eva would've strangled Harry with hers."
Harry laughed. "I admit, I've been pushing us hard, but we have a lot to live up to, and we've got to win tomorrow. I think we have a good chance, so long as everybody gets a good rest today."
"Ready to go? Filch is checking passes," Hermione said.
"After you," Ginny said.
"What, are you coming with us? What about Dean?" Ron asked in scathing tones.
"Dean is practicing with Seamus," Ginny said coolly. "But if you'd rather I didn't come with you, I'm sure I have other friends—"
"Don't be silly Ginny," Harry said, frowning at Ron. "Of course we want you to come."
They pulled on their cloaks and headed out of the Great Hall, Harry's pockets heavy with sickles and galleons he intended to spend on Honeydukes candies, butterbeer, and a few Zonko's tricks to supplement their arsenal.
As they passed the statues of the winged boars, all four of them peered around the crowd, searching for their mysterious "guard."
"Harry! Ron, Ginny! Over here!"
Harry peered in the direction of the voice and saw a shock of flaming red hair. For a split second, he thought it was Mrs. Weasley—but no, it had been a male voice that called them.
"Bill!" Ginny shouted delightedly, running to give her brother a hug. "How are you?"
"Fine," Bill grinned, looking very cool. Once again he looked like he'd just left a rock concert; more than one seventh year girl was eyeing him hopefully. "Mum and Dad send their love."
"And how's Fleur?" Ginny teased.
"Wonderful," Bill winked. Ron groaned.
"It's so good to see you!" Hermione said, smiling at Bill. "We were worried about who our guard would be—"
"Mundungus wanted to come," Bill said, "but I think Mum convinced him that I know Hogsmeade better. And if Mad Eye'd had his way, you'd have had seven people walking in a circle around Harry all the time."
"That's what I was afraid of," Harry said.
"Well, no worries," Bill went on. "The Death Eaters probably won't try anything today. The ministry has half the Magical Law Enforcement squad down here for the protection of the underage wizards."
"I'm freezing," Ginny said, pulling her muffler around her neck. It was a cold day with the misty sort of rain that seemed to stick to the skin like glue. "Let's get going."
Hogsmeade was packed with ministry wizards, each one wearing a badge emblazoned with "D.o.M.L.E." in bright red letters. Bill nodded his greetings to a few of them, and most smiled warmly at Harry. They even stopped to talk with a few of them, although Harry didn't really recognize any of them.
They went into a couple of shops, starting with a stationery shop where Hermione bought the diary she'd been thinking about, and Ron replenished his quill supply. Harry, Ron, and Bill went into Zonko's joke shop while Ginny and Hermione popped into a robe shop to buy socks and things. Bill teased Ron that going into Zonko's was "Fraternizing with the enemy" and threatened to tell the twins.
"I'm not 'fraternizing' with anyone!" Ron protested as he pulled a bottle of fading ink off the shelf. "I just need a few things that the twins didn't send, that's all."
By midafternoon, they had finished all their shopping and playing, and everyone was looking particularly cold and damp. Harry suggested a round of butterbeer, and they made their way toward the Three Broomsticks. It was completely full of people, both Hogwarts students and teachers, and wizards sporting the D.o.M.L.E. badges. Harry spotted a ministry wizard who seemed to have been following them around for most of the morning sitting by himself in a corner. He saw Harry looking at him and nodded politely, sipping his mulled mead.
"Hello, Bill! Haven't seen you in ages!" Madame Rosmerta called cheerily.
"Good to see you, Rosmerta! Let's have a round of butterbeer for the five of us, and one for you as well," he winked. "You lovely creature, you."
"Oh, Bill," Rosmerta laughed.
They sat down at a table near the back, as far away from the drafty windows as they could manage. The butterbeer warmed them instantly, and Harry began to feel pleasantly drowsy. He listened as Bill filled them in on most of the news at home—it sounded like everyone was busy trying to catch the Death Eaters and keep the ones they'd caught in jail.
"How's Lupin doing?" Ginny asked.
To Harry's surprise, Bill half smiled. "Well—you know that he moved back into—well, into Harry's house?"
Harry felt the little hairs on the back of his neck rise at hearing Grimmauld Place described like that. Instinctively, he rubbed Sirius's ring with his other hand. Ron looked at him strangely. Bill, who didn't seem to have notice, went on.
"Poor man is stuck there alone with Mira half the time. She's such an oddball, it's a wonder she hasn't driven him nuts. She's always breaking things and he has to magic them back together. Of course, I think she's managed to cheer him up quite a bit. He's been looking less tired lately. If you ask me, he—"
"Bill," Hermione interrupted, as though she'd been unable to contain herself any longer. "Why did you stop wearing the dragon fang earring?"
For a split second, Bill looked surprised, and maybe a little nervous, but he managed to mask it quickly. "I don't know. Mum always hated it, you know."
"That never bothered you before," Hermione said.
"Hermione, what are you on about?" Ron said.
"I've been thinking about it all day," Hermione said, looking shrewdly at Bill. "There's your earring, Bill, and Snape's, and McGonagall and Dumbledore's necklaces, and even Tonks has been wearing earrings lately. It's a charm, isn't it? It's some kind of linking charm. They're linked to let you communicate with each other."
The table was silent for a moment. Harry was surprised—he had almost forgotten about the silver jewelry. Ginny was looking at Bill, who looked like he was doing some fast thinking. Then, to Harry's further surprise, Bill laughed.
"You know, Hagrid said you'd figure it out if we didn't tell you," he said. "Dumbledore said we should just tell you if you asked, of course, but Mum doesn't want you to know—for your own protection, she said."
"Tell us what?" Ron said, looking surprised.
"It is a communication charm, isn't it?" Hermione demanded.
Ginny had a look of dawning comprehension. "That's how everyone got to—well, you know where—so quickly the night Mira showed up!"
"It's called a Network Charm," Bill said. "Dumbledore invented it. You're right, Hermione, it is a kind of linking charm. The charm is always working, so long as the object is touching your skin. You can use it to link together any number of objects so that you can hear another person speaking from far away, or to send up an alarm, that sort of thing."
"Like a telephone," Harry said.
"I guess," Bill shrugged. "I don't know much about muggle telephones. Anyway, Dumbledore found that the spell stays on silver a lot longer than on anything else, so he got hold of as much silver jewelry as he could manage, spelled it, and gave it to everyone in the Order. Except Lupin, of course. His is gold, and they have to redo the spell every few weeks. But it's amazingly useful—Dumbledore can call us in a second if we need to be somewhere, and it's got built in alarms."
"What sort of alarms?" Ginny asked.
"Well, like… there are a couple of safe places we're protecting, and if anyone goes into them who isn't supposed to, an alarm goes off, and everyone apparates there, ready to fight if need be," Bill said. "It also sends up an alarm if anyone on the network dies," he added.
A moment's silence followed this statement. Harry broke it. "If you know when someone on the network dies, and Hestia had one of the pieces of jewelry, why didn't anyone know she was dead until I told them?" Harry demanded.
"Because she wasn't wearing her necklace when they took her," Bill said. "You might have read in the paper—Hestia was home sick when You-know-who came for her. She had the flu. Moody found her necklace lying on her bedside table, where she'd probably taken it off while she slept."
"Why didn't anyone tell us about it? I bet Mum and Dad have them too?" Ginny asked.
"Of course," Bill said. "The thing is, if the Death Eaters get hold of one of the pieces of jewelry, the whole system would be useless. The fewer people who know about it, the better."
"But why don't we have them?" Ron demanded. "We wouldn't need a guard if we had them—we could just call for help if there was any trouble!"
Bill sighed. "A lot of stuff goes out over the network that you don't need to hear. No. It's a rule—only full members of the Order can have them. Personally, I'll be glad when we've captured You-Know-who, and I can go back to wearing my fang."
They all laughed a little. Harry sipped his butterbeer, and noticed that Bill's eyes followed his hand as it rose. Bill was looking at his ring. Harry felt his cheeks flush and quickly pulled his hand away, hiding it under the table. He felt like Sirius's ring was something personal; it made him a little uncomfortable to have it stared at. He was afraid Bill would say something about it, but when he spoke, he changed the subject.
"So how are your lessons?"
They all groaned, although Ginny groaned the loudest.
"O.W.L. year is horrible," Ginny moaned draining the last of her butterbeer. "They give us tons of homework, and Harry's having quidditch practive practically every night. I can't remember the last time I got a full night's sleep."
"Well, you can have a rest when you get back to the castle," Bill said encouragingly.
"No I can't," Ginny said. "I have to write an entire Potions essay."
Bill shook his head. "How about you three?"
"Brilliant, except for Potions," Harry muttered.
"What's wrong with Potions?" Bill asked.
"Snape," Harry and Ron said together.
"Is he giving you a hard time?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You could say that," Ron said.
"He's trying his hardest to fail me," Harry said.
"And he gave Hermione detention for practically no reason," Ron added.
"It wasn't no reason," Hermione protested. "I did earn it, didn't I?"
"Snape's never liked me," Harry said, "but lately, you'd think he's restraining himself from going straight for my throat. I can't figure it out."
Bill opened his mouth as though to speak, but then shut it again wordlessly. He looked around them briefly, and then motioned for them all to move in. They leaned low over their butterbeers, and Bill whispered.
"You can't tell anyone I told you this," he said.
"Of course we won't," Harry said.
"Mum would have my head—not to mention Snape—but I think you have a right to know why he's going after you."
"Just tell us, Bill," Ginny whispered impatiently.
"It goes back to this summer, when Snape came to your rescue, Harry," Bill whispered, his voice so low that they could barely hear it over the noise of the pub. "There wasn't really time to plan—we all just apparated straight there. We thought Wormtail was gone—"
"Wormtail!" Hermione squeaked, surprised.
"Yeah," Bill went on. "But apparently, he was watching from somewhere. He told You-Know-Who that Snape was among the wizards who went to your aid. You-Know-Who wasn't happy—not happy at all. Snape managed to convince him that he had to, to maintain his position as their spy at Hogwarts, but it didn't matter."
"What happened to him?" Ginny whispered.
"Let's just say that he had a very, very bad summer," Bill said, shaking his head. "Mum says it's a wonder he made it back to school at all."
"Oh!" Hermione whispered, shocked. "I had no idea!"
"Me either," whispered Harry, his eyes wide. "I wouldn't have thought—I mean, I didn't think—" He swallowed. "No wonder he's mad at me. He blames me."
"It's not your fault, though," Bill whispered forcefully. "Not your fault at all. Snape knew there were risks when he began doing what he's doing. And that's no excuse for his behavior—he ought to treat you like any other student no matter what—but at least now you know."
Bill leaned back in his chair, so the rest of them followed suit. Harry hadn't known that Snape had been punished for coming to save him. Now that he knew, he could understand why Snape had been so venemous to the three of them all term, but that hardly made things better. He felt even less prepared to face Snape now than he had been before.
Bill stretched and looked at his watch. "It's getting late. We ought to be heading back," he said. "Unless you've got anything else you want to do in town?"
"I have a composition to write," Ginny scowled. Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, and Ginny made a face at them.
They wrapped themselves back up in their cloaks and mufflers, paid Rosmerta for the mead, and stepped back out into the rain. It had gotten heavier while they'd been in the pub, and everyone had gone inside for shelter, leaving the streets almost entirely empty.
"I hope this lets up before tomorrow," Ginny said, peering at the clouds.
"We've practiced in rain before," Harry said encouragingly.
The road back to the school was eerily quiet except for the sound of the falling rain and the mud squelching below their shoes. The road ahead was nothing more than a mist of silver haze; Harry couldn't see the buildings on either side of them through his fogging, wet glasses. He felt lost. He plodded along behind Bill, not entirely sure of where they were, even though he felt like he knew Hogsmeade very well.
Suddenly, Bill stopped in his tracks. Harry bumped into him from behind. "What—?" he said, but Hermione hissed "Quiet!"
Bill's hand had gone to his earring. "Who's there?" he shouted into the falling rain. Harry peered over his shoulder—he could just make out a grayish shape in the path ahead. It quickly turned into the outline of a man; then, when he had come very close indeed, Harry could make out his face. It was the Ministry wizard who had nodded to Harry in the Three Broomsticks.
"Oh, it's you, Higgins," Bill said, relaxing. "You gave me a fright."
"You shouldn't have let me come so close," Higgins said reproachfully. "If I wanted to do you harm, I could have done it five times between there and here. You ought to have stunned me." Something in his gravelly tone reminded him of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes they'd had with the imposter Mad-Eye Moody. Almost instinctively, Harry pulled out his wand.
"I couldn't see you," Bill said. "I wouldn't want to stun an innocent bystander."
"Better safe than sorry, they say," Higgins said. "And I'm afraid you're going to be very sorry indeed now."
"What?" Bill said, his hand flying back to his earring. "Was that a threat, Higgins?"
"The Dark Lord has business with the boy," Higgins said, smiling. "I will bring him back. Alive or dead—this time, there will be no mistakes." Harry was suddenly aware of Higgins's wand—pointing right at the scar on his forehead.
************
Author's Note (cont'd)
You may have been wondering why it took me so long to post this chapter. There's a very simple reason for that. After every chapter I post, I get a slew of emails with suggestions, questions, guesses, etc. I don't mind this—actually, I want to encourage it! I love feedback, criticism, and hearing your ideas. But after the last chapter I got several emails accusing me of everything from being another author writing under a second account to outright plagiarism.
Before I go on, let me clear up a few things officially.
*This is my only account on Fanfiction.net. I use the account name "neoepiphany" for most everything I do online. I am not another author in disguise, nor do I have multiple accounts for any other purpose.
*No, I have not told anyone the answers to what happens, nor will I tell you. Besides me, the only person in the world who knows what happens at the end is my roommate Michelle. Even she doesn't know everything, and it took a lot of pleading for me to tell her in the first place. (If I drop dead in the midst of writing, you'll have to beg her for the conclusion.)
*None, I repeat, none of this story is plagiarized. It comes entirely from an original idea I had, and 100% of it is original text. If you've read any of it in another fanfic, it's much more likely that that author plagiarized me. If you try to prove it by telling me the "ending" and getting it hopelessly wrong, I reserve the right to publicly make fun of you.
Anyway, the end result of all this is that I was in a foul mood for a couple of days, and put off writing this particular story for over a week. I only write this story for fun—when it stops being fun, I stop writing. It's a simple as that.
Of course, that's not to say I'm not up for constructive criticism! I really do welcome criticism, suggestions, and questions. Just not accusations or attacks.
Ok, rant over, and back to NeoEpiphany's usual cheery demeanor!
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Will you be anxiously awaiting the next installment? (mwahaha! Suspense—my darling friend!)
*************
Reviewer Responses:
Wiccan Pussykat: Yes, I know, I spent quite a while on my moody little hiatus.
But now I'm back, and hopefully, it'll stay that way! ^_^
What are those Slytherins plotting? They're taking their sweet time—it can't be anything good! Hermione's detention isn't anything HUGELY critical to the plot, although it does serve to advance her character development (i.e. this is the first time we've ever seen Hermione do something detention-worthy on her own steam). Along the detention lines, don't worry, I'm not the kind of teacher who can give detentions, nor would I if I could. I more of a show-up-look-cool-speak-English sort of teacher. Will the spirit creatures be important? Would I have devoted so much time and energy to them if they were just a throw-away?
Kento: Yes, I know it was a little slow at the beginning. I'm the first to admit the story has pacing problems, which I would normally fix in the second draft. :) I had to cover a lot of daily routine because the first part of the story has all of the hints to the answers. But, as I said in the Author's note at the beginning of last chapter, now we're in more of an action section. Faster pace, more fighting, more characters popping in and out, etc.
She: Yep, the ring has been kind of background for a while. It will be for some time. But it is a critical piece of the puzzle, so have patience. McGonagall is slightly annoyed wit Tonks because she is a bit of a klutz, and I imagine McGonagall was Tonks's HoH, and is now wondering how such a troublemaker got to be a teacher. No, Hermione was just annoyed at Luna spouting more nonsense. They really do get along most of the time. I don't think they could have meant Snape because they didn't know that Snape was in the Order, right? (Unless of course, the real spy told them!) He was just their "lapdog" at Hogwarts. Good questions, keep 'em coming!
Jbfritz: So that's where Katie went! Good thinking.
Scorpion Lord: I'm glad you like the story! Ahh, cut me some slack about SPEW! Hermione did mention it earlier, when they were at Grimmauld Place. I'd like to think she's backing off a little while she regroups and comes up with better ways to help the elves. As to Dobby and Winky, well, in my defense, Dobby didn't appear in OotP until after the first trip to Hogsmeade, and Winky didn't appear at all! Yes, they are coming into the story (Dobby is in chapter 16). And as for Krum, nope, he won't be appearing in this story. But remember Ron and Hermione did fight over him and Hermione was writing him a letter at one point. I agree that hints of romance are important. I always said there is one important romance in this story... and a minor one, too.
Wynjara: I think they'll calm down. Hermione was just annoyed because Luna was spouting more "nonsense." I actually really like both their characters—Luna is one of my favorite people.
And that's it for this round. Tune in next week—same time, same place! :)
Just a quick note. I think you'll find this chapter a bit more action packed, and two of our standing "mysteries" will be resolved.
This author's note will be continued in the Reviewer Responses section so that you can get to the story without having to listen to my rant.
This chapter dedicated to my newborn nephew!
Enjoy, kittens,
Neoepiphany***
Chapter Fifteen
Bill's Earring
With Hermione's help, Harry managed to get through all fifteen chapters of McGonagall's book in time for her lesson, even though he was now spending two nights a week and most of the weekend training the quidditch team. Ron complained that Harry was more fanatical than Angelina, but when Ginny compared him with Oliver Wood, Harry finally got the message.
"I'm not fanatical," Harry protested. "We want to win. I want us to win. There's no reason we shouldn't win! So I'm going to see to it that we do. We need time to get used to each other, but we've only got three weeks until the match against Slytherin, and—" he went on in a furiously determined voice that left no room for doubt, "—we are not going to lose."
"Okay, okay," said Dean, backing away from Harry. "We get the message. We're all doing our best, Harry. We want to win too."
"I know you do," Harry said, relaxing slightly. "I just think that since so much of the team is new, we need to spend all this time practicing—getting used to each other. You've already made great improvements. Eva, you're becoming a better scorer, and Kirke, as long as you don't get intimidated by the other team, you'll do just fine."
"Thanks," said Kirke, although he looked pale. Eva just nodded.
After that pep talk, the team submitted more willingly to Harry's endless drills and skirmishes. By mid-October, even Harry felt that they were getting pretty good, and he found himself really looking forward to the match against Slytherin in November.
His lesson with McGonagall had gone very well. Harry hadn't really mastered all the charms, but he at least knew what they were and had a pretty good handle on the more basic ones. McGonagall complimented Harry's diligence, and helped him with a few of the charms that she thought might come in useful, especially the adapted linking charms Hermione had found so exciting. Of course, at the end of the lesson, she assigned him another ten chapters, but pushed their next lesson back to December, owing to Harry's need to prepare for the quidditch match.
The short reprieve from studying for McGonagall's lesson was a welcome blessing; October had not been as easy as September. For one thing, news of missing or injured wizards, muggle killings, and cruel pranks appeared in the Daily Prophet almost daily now. No Deathe Eaters had been caught, and only a few had even been identified. The two most popular topics of conversation in the corridors between classes were You-Know-Who and his evil deeds and how much Fudge's popularity had dropped. On top of that, their other professors had apparently decided that the sixth years needed more homework, and they found themselves spending more and more evenings in the library, writing essays, drawing diagrams, and practicing the increasingly difficult charms and transfigurations they were studying in their lessons. So, Harry was among the most excited students when a notice went onto the noticeboard one cold and rainy afternoon.
"Next Hogsmeade trip's the day before Halloween," Ron said, his face lapsing into a dazed, happy grin. "Just think—we can spend the day sipping butterbeer, doing some shopping, eating Honeyduke's fudge…" His eyes flicked toward Harry. "I mean, unless we have quidditch practice that day, of course," he said warily.
But Harry was just as eager for a break as the rest of them. "Well…" he began, "the match is just the very next day… but I think we've worked hard enough… I mean, as long as we have an extra practice during the week we'll be okay. Let's have the day off."
Ron sunk into a cushy chair near the fire. "Thank heaven for that," he said.
"What are you going to do in Hogsmeade?" Hermione said, looking just as excited as Ron. "Not Zonko's?"
"Nah, who needs Zonko's when my brothers have the most successful joke shop in England? But I'll be first in the door to Honeyduke's. How about you Harry?"
"What? Oh, yes. Yes, me too," Harry said quickly, smiling. Hermione began to describe the new quills and maybe a diary that she was planning to buy, and Harry lapsed back into thought.
Secretly, a worrisome thought had just occurred to Harry. He remembered Moody's words last August. "You'll be free to move about Hogwarts grounds, but we're not sure how we'll handle Hogsmeade yet." No one had mentioned Hogsmeade since then—at least, not to Harry. Talking about the weekend had reminded Harry, and he'd had a sudden, terrible vision of Dumbledore telling him he wasn't allowed to go. Visions of third year, watching Ron and Hermione and the rest of the class disappear down the road while he had to gloomily wander the halls, filled his head. He didn't think he could stand being cooped up again, not even at Hogwarts.
Harry didn't share his concerns with Ron and Hermione because as long as no one else had mentioned it, he didn't intend to bring it up. There was no sense in reminding them of something that, with a little luck, everyone but him had forgotten. He didn't see that he was in any more danger from the Death Eaters than anybody else, and the probability of Voldemort striking in the middle of a crowded Hogsmeade shop was remote. Well, if they wouldn't let him go, there was only one thing for it: he would sneak out in the invisibility cloak.
"Oh, Harry, it's almost seven. Did you want to practice the Guardian Charm?" Hermione said suddenly.
"What?" Harry said, jerking out of his reverie.
"Are you all right?" Ron said.
"Sure, fine," Harry said quickly, although both Ron and Hermione gave him skeptical looks. "Really. Yeah, let's get a start on that charm, Hermione."
The Guardian Charm occupied Chapters 17 through 20 of "Spelles, Charmes, and Enchantmentes," and for good reason. It was, in theory, an adapted linking charm, but it was the hardest charm Harry had ever heard of, bar none. It was used to link two objects so that when a certain thing happened to one of them, a spell on the other one would be activated. In effect, the spell made one object a trigger for a spell on another object.
"Why are we even bothering?" Ron moaned after their fourth or fifth failed attempt. "What use is this spell, really? I mean, there are dozens of wards that do pretty much the same thing but with half the work."
"A ward can tell you if someone's in that area or used a certain spell, sure, but you can do a lot more with a Guardian Charm," Hermione said as she prodded a broken quill she was trying to enchant. "The ward can warn you, but a Guardian charm activates an actual spell. Like—well, you could cast the charm on a doorway, and then if anyone uses alohomora on it, you could make the doorknob explode, or something."
"The name's a bit silly," Harry said. "They ought to call it the Bomb charm, or the Trigger charm, or something."
"Well, it's more than just that, isn't it?" Hermione said. "You can charm the objects to do things besides just explode. You could charm one to glow, or become a portkey, or activate a ward, or just about anything really. It's dead useful—I imagine if it weren't such a difficult spell, people would use it a lot more."
And it was a difficult spell. First, you had to figure out the enchantment. The standard spell for a linking charm was "Coagmentum!" but you had to change it and add a special incantation for the Guardian charm. Then you had to set all your conditions, which took ages. After hours of work they had barely finished enchanting the broken quills. (If someone tried to write with the white quill, the black quill would burst into flame. They left it lying on the table in the hopes that someone would try it.) Ron, meanwhile, had had an epiphany.
"We ought to show this spell to Fred and George," he said as he prodded the quill with his wand. "They could really put it to good use—you know, inventing plates that squeal when you pick up the fork, that sort of thing."
"Have you heard from Fred and George yet?" Harry asked.
"No," Ron said, glumly. "You'd think that they'd at least tell me they got my owl."
"I'm sure they're just busy," Hermione said. Ron just scowled.
But the mystery of the twins' silence was solved the following morning. Harry and Ron were laughing while Seamus told them in detail about their quill detonating and terrifying a group of first years after they'd gone to bed. With the arrival of the mail, however, came a lot of shouting and surprised squeals. One truly huge owl was flying in with the rest of the pack, carrying a massive box wrapped in green and purple paper bearing the interlocking "WW" of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
"Ron, look out!" Harry shouted.
"What?" Ron said. He looked up and jumped out of his chair just in time. The owl dropped the huge package into Ron's arms, knocking him backward. The Slytherin table burst into gales of laughter.
"Never mind them," Hermione said as she and Harry pulled Ron, clutching his package, to his feet. "They're just jealous because you got more mail than them."
"This thing weighs a ton," Ron said, but his eyes were full of delighted excitement.
"Open it," Hermione encouraged. "We've got half an hour before Herbology."
Ron ripped excitedly into the paper. A small crowd of Gryffindors had gathered around to watch, everyone egging Ron on.
"There's a letter," Ron said, handing it to Harry. "And—wow!"
Below the letter was an assortment of goodies from the Weasley's inventory, many of them already banned by Filch. There was a generous sack of Sneezing Powder, refills for their skiving Snackboxes, a selection of Florescent Fruits and Glowing Goodies, a bag of trick sweets, an Instant Door (for making people walk into walls, a good trick at Hogwarts where the doors were in the habit of moving), an exploding quaffle (which Harry quickly banned from Gryffindor practices), a selection of Wildfire Whizbangs, a jumbo box of Wailing Whiffers, Squealing Smokers, and Blaring Bouncers, and their very own Evolving Fluffblaster.
"Quick! Filch is coming! Slam the lid back on," Hermione hissed under her breath.
"We'd better get it back to the tower," Harry suggested, and he, Ron, and Hermione pushed their way out of the crowd just as Filch muscled through to where they'd been standing. He loudly sniffed the air behind him, no doubt trying to detect the presence of dungbombs. Harry and Ron held the package between them because of its substantial weight, but they managed to run back to Gryffindor tower. Ron took the letter from Harry and read it aloud.
"Dear Ron,
We were really pleased to get your letter. It's great to know that our products are being put to good use. Fred was especially tickled about the Fluffblasters—they were his idea, of course. Wish I could've seen that one on Ernie's head. We impress even ourselves sometimes.
Sorry in taking so long to reply. We decided that we couldn't have complete strangers outdoing our own brother in terms of major mischeif making, so we've gotten together this gift package for you. Consider it a very early birthday present. Mum says don't you dare use any of it, but we think you'll be all right so long as you don't get caught.
Mum and Dad send their best to you, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry, along with the usual messages warning you not to get into trouble, study hard, and so on. We're fine. Business is booming. We hired Lee Jordan to run the front counter so we have enough time to devote to creating new inventory. (We're doing a new line of trick quills that we hope to have ready before the next term starts.)
We're supposed to tell you to give Harry a message. Moody and all don't want Harry wandering around on his own in Hogsmeade, so you're going to have a guard. They'll meet you outside the front gates on the way out, and you're to stay with them no matter what. Dad says if he has any questions he should ask McGonagall or Dumbledore.
Enjoy the gifts,
George and Fred."
Harry laughed out loud, mostly with relief. So, he was going to get to go to Hogsmeade after all!
"Are you mad?" Ron said, looking at him funny. "We're going to have a—a babysitter! At Hogsmeade!"
Even Hermione looked flustered at then news. "Who will it be? We won't have any fun at all with Mundungus or Moody breathing down our necks."
"I thought you liked Moody and Mundungus," Harry said.
"I do, of course I do," Hermione said. "That's not the point. Can you imagine what'd happen if we tried to have a quiet butterbeer with Dung? He'd spend the whole time trying to convince us to go along with him to some stolen toad house or hot wand deal or something."
"Actually, that wouldn't be so bad," Ron said, looking a bit like Fred and George. "I'd love to see some stolen toads."
"Oh, Ron," Hermione sighed, exasperatedly.
Harry's thoughts lingered on his guard, and by the end of the morning's lessons, his immediate feeling of relief had evaporated entirely—replaced by anger. Why did he need a babysitter? Hadn't he faced down Death Eaters—not to mention Voldemort himself!—as much as anyone else? More than most!
"Not one!" he said at lunch, stabbing his shepherd's pie in his irritation.
"Not one what?" said Hermione, who had just been startled out of describing the evolving fluffblaster that had bounced into her arithmancy class.
"Not one Death Eater attack has taken place anywhere near Hogsmeade," Harry muttered, further frustrated by the fact that he'd spoken aloud. "Why do I need a guard? Nothing's going to happen in a city full of wizards."
"I dunno, Harry," said Ron. "I've been thinking about it, and maybe they're right."
"What?" Harry said, scowling. "You think I need a babysitter too?"
"No—no, not that you need a babysitter, but that You-Know-Who might try something while we have the day off," Ron said quickly. "There've been a lot of attacks lately, haven't there?"
"But nowhere near here," Harry said. "And no one's died in ages."
"Harry, don't you think you're being a bit—" Hermione began.
"A bit what?" Harry snapped.
"Well," Hermione said with dignity, "a bit sensitive? I mean, you've had guards before. What about last year on the way to King's Cross? We had half the—" she lowered her voice to a whisper "—Order along then."
"Yeah," said Ron, "and what about this summer?"
"Those times were different," Harry said.
"How so?"
"They weren't Hogsmeade."
"Ah," Hermione sighed. "Well, there's no arguing with that, is there." Ron, who had opened his mouth in order to do just that, quickly closed it at Hermione's look. "I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it and hope it's someone enjoyable."
"I just had a horrible thought," Ron said, the color draining from his cheeks.
"What?" Harry and Hermione said together.
"What if it's Mum?" Ron whispered.
The time until Saturday passed in a flurry of activity for Harry. Their match against Slythering was supposed to take place on Sunday, so Harry had the Gryffindor team working extra hard in preparation. That meant that almost every night he had either practice or a private session with one of the players. He wondered if Oliver or Angelina had gone through this.
"No offense, Harry," Ron said at breakfast on Saturday morning, "but if you'd said we had to practice today, I think I would've strangled myself with my own broom."
"Yeah," Ginny added from beside him. "I think Eva would've strangled Harry with hers."
Harry laughed. "I admit, I've been pushing us hard, but we have a lot to live up to, and we've got to win tomorrow. I think we have a good chance, so long as everybody gets a good rest today."
"Ready to go? Filch is checking passes," Hermione said.
"After you," Ginny said.
"What, are you coming with us? What about Dean?" Ron asked in scathing tones.
"Dean is practicing with Seamus," Ginny said coolly. "But if you'd rather I didn't come with you, I'm sure I have other friends—"
"Don't be silly Ginny," Harry said, frowning at Ron. "Of course we want you to come."
They pulled on their cloaks and headed out of the Great Hall, Harry's pockets heavy with sickles and galleons he intended to spend on Honeydukes candies, butterbeer, and a few Zonko's tricks to supplement their arsenal.
As they passed the statues of the winged boars, all four of them peered around the crowd, searching for their mysterious "guard."
"Harry! Ron, Ginny! Over here!"
Harry peered in the direction of the voice and saw a shock of flaming red hair. For a split second, he thought it was Mrs. Weasley—but no, it had been a male voice that called them.
"Bill!" Ginny shouted delightedly, running to give her brother a hug. "How are you?"
"Fine," Bill grinned, looking very cool. Once again he looked like he'd just left a rock concert; more than one seventh year girl was eyeing him hopefully. "Mum and Dad send their love."
"And how's Fleur?" Ginny teased.
"Wonderful," Bill winked. Ron groaned.
"It's so good to see you!" Hermione said, smiling at Bill. "We were worried about who our guard would be—"
"Mundungus wanted to come," Bill said, "but I think Mum convinced him that I know Hogsmeade better. And if Mad Eye'd had his way, you'd have had seven people walking in a circle around Harry all the time."
"That's what I was afraid of," Harry said.
"Well, no worries," Bill went on. "The Death Eaters probably won't try anything today. The ministry has half the Magical Law Enforcement squad down here for the protection of the underage wizards."
"I'm freezing," Ginny said, pulling her muffler around her neck. It was a cold day with the misty sort of rain that seemed to stick to the skin like glue. "Let's get going."
Hogsmeade was packed with ministry wizards, each one wearing a badge emblazoned with "D.o.M.L.E." in bright red letters. Bill nodded his greetings to a few of them, and most smiled warmly at Harry. They even stopped to talk with a few of them, although Harry didn't really recognize any of them.
They went into a couple of shops, starting with a stationery shop where Hermione bought the diary she'd been thinking about, and Ron replenished his quill supply. Harry, Ron, and Bill went into Zonko's joke shop while Ginny and Hermione popped into a robe shop to buy socks and things. Bill teased Ron that going into Zonko's was "Fraternizing with the enemy" and threatened to tell the twins.
"I'm not 'fraternizing' with anyone!" Ron protested as he pulled a bottle of fading ink off the shelf. "I just need a few things that the twins didn't send, that's all."
By midafternoon, they had finished all their shopping and playing, and everyone was looking particularly cold and damp. Harry suggested a round of butterbeer, and they made their way toward the Three Broomsticks. It was completely full of people, both Hogwarts students and teachers, and wizards sporting the D.o.M.L.E. badges. Harry spotted a ministry wizard who seemed to have been following them around for most of the morning sitting by himself in a corner. He saw Harry looking at him and nodded politely, sipping his mulled mead.
"Hello, Bill! Haven't seen you in ages!" Madame Rosmerta called cheerily.
"Good to see you, Rosmerta! Let's have a round of butterbeer for the five of us, and one for you as well," he winked. "You lovely creature, you."
"Oh, Bill," Rosmerta laughed.
They sat down at a table near the back, as far away from the drafty windows as they could manage. The butterbeer warmed them instantly, and Harry began to feel pleasantly drowsy. He listened as Bill filled them in on most of the news at home—it sounded like everyone was busy trying to catch the Death Eaters and keep the ones they'd caught in jail.
"How's Lupin doing?" Ginny asked.
To Harry's surprise, Bill half smiled. "Well—you know that he moved back into—well, into Harry's house?"
Harry felt the little hairs on the back of his neck rise at hearing Grimmauld Place described like that. Instinctively, he rubbed Sirius's ring with his other hand. Ron looked at him strangely. Bill, who didn't seem to have notice, went on.
"Poor man is stuck there alone with Mira half the time. She's such an oddball, it's a wonder she hasn't driven him nuts. She's always breaking things and he has to magic them back together. Of course, I think she's managed to cheer him up quite a bit. He's been looking less tired lately. If you ask me, he—"
"Bill," Hermione interrupted, as though she'd been unable to contain herself any longer. "Why did you stop wearing the dragon fang earring?"
For a split second, Bill looked surprised, and maybe a little nervous, but he managed to mask it quickly. "I don't know. Mum always hated it, you know."
"That never bothered you before," Hermione said.
"Hermione, what are you on about?" Ron said.
"I've been thinking about it all day," Hermione said, looking shrewdly at Bill. "There's your earring, Bill, and Snape's, and McGonagall and Dumbledore's necklaces, and even Tonks has been wearing earrings lately. It's a charm, isn't it? It's some kind of linking charm. They're linked to let you communicate with each other."
The table was silent for a moment. Harry was surprised—he had almost forgotten about the silver jewelry. Ginny was looking at Bill, who looked like he was doing some fast thinking. Then, to Harry's further surprise, Bill laughed.
"You know, Hagrid said you'd figure it out if we didn't tell you," he said. "Dumbledore said we should just tell you if you asked, of course, but Mum doesn't want you to know—for your own protection, she said."
"Tell us what?" Ron said, looking surprised.
"It is a communication charm, isn't it?" Hermione demanded.
Ginny had a look of dawning comprehension. "That's how everyone got to—well, you know where—so quickly the night Mira showed up!"
"It's called a Network Charm," Bill said. "Dumbledore invented it. You're right, Hermione, it is a kind of linking charm. The charm is always working, so long as the object is touching your skin. You can use it to link together any number of objects so that you can hear another person speaking from far away, or to send up an alarm, that sort of thing."
"Like a telephone," Harry said.
"I guess," Bill shrugged. "I don't know much about muggle telephones. Anyway, Dumbledore found that the spell stays on silver a lot longer than on anything else, so he got hold of as much silver jewelry as he could manage, spelled it, and gave it to everyone in the Order. Except Lupin, of course. His is gold, and they have to redo the spell every few weeks. But it's amazingly useful—Dumbledore can call us in a second if we need to be somewhere, and it's got built in alarms."
"What sort of alarms?" Ginny asked.
"Well, like… there are a couple of safe places we're protecting, and if anyone goes into them who isn't supposed to, an alarm goes off, and everyone apparates there, ready to fight if need be," Bill said. "It also sends up an alarm if anyone on the network dies," he added.
A moment's silence followed this statement. Harry broke it. "If you know when someone on the network dies, and Hestia had one of the pieces of jewelry, why didn't anyone know she was dead until I told them?" Harry demanded.
"Because she wasn't wearing her necklace when they took her," Bill said. "You might have read in the paper—Hestia was home sick when You-know-who came for her. She had the flu. Moody found her necklace lying on her bedside table, where she'd probably taken it off while she slept."
"Why didn't anyone tell us about it? I bet Mum and Dad have them too?" Ginny asked.
"Of course," Bill said. "The thing is, if the Death Eaters get hold of one of the pieces of jewelry, the whole system would be useless. The fewer people who know about it, the better."
"But why don't we have them?" Ron demanded. "We wouldn't need a guard if we had them—we could just call for help if there was any trouble!"
Bill sighed. "A lot of stuff goes out over the network that you don't need to hear. No. It's a rule—only full members of the Order can have them. Personally, I'll be glad when we've captured You-Know-who, and I can go back to wearing my fang."
They all laughed a little. Harry sipped his butterbeer, and noticed that Bill's eyes followed his hand as it rose. Bill was looking at his ring. Harry felt his cheeks flush and quickly pulled his hand away, hiding it under the table. He felt like Sirius's ring was something personal; it made him a little uncomfortable to have it stared at. He was afraid Bill would say something about it, but when he spoke, he changed the subject.
"So how are your lessons?"
They all groaned, although Ginny groaned the loudest.
"O.W.L. year is horrible," Ginny moaned draining the last of her butterbeer. "They give us tons of homework, and Harry's having quidditch practive practically every night. I can't remember the last time I got a full night's sleep."
"Well, you can have a rest when you get back to the castle," Bill said encouragingly.
"No I can't," Ginny said. "I have to write an entire Potions essay."
Bill shook his head. "How about you three?"
"Brilliant, except for Potions," Harry muttered.
"What's wrong with Potions?" Bill asked.
"Snape," Harry and Ron said together.
"Is he giving you a hard time?" Bill asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You could say that," Ron said.
"He's trying his hardest to fail me," Harry said.
"And he gave Hermione detention for practically no reason," Ron added.
"It wasn't no reason," Hermione protested. "I did earn it, didn't I?"
"Snape's never liked me," Harry said, "but lately, you'd think he's restraining himself from going straight for my throat. I can't figure it out."
Bill opened his mouth as though to speak, but then shut it again wordlessly. He looked around them briefly, and then motioned for them all to move in. They leaned low over their butterbeers, and Bill whispered.
"You can't tell anyone I told you this," he said.
"Of course we won't," Harry said.
"Mum would have my head—not to mention Snape—but I think you have a right to know why he's going after you."
"Just tell us, Bill," Ginny whispered impatiently.
"It goes back to this summer, when Snape came to your rescue, Harry," Bill whispered, his voice so low that they could barely hear it over the noise of the pub. "There wasn't really time to plan—we all just apparated straight there. We thought Wormtail was gone—"
"Wormtail!" Hermione squeaked, surprised.
"Yeah," Bill went on. "But apparently, he was watching from somewhere. He told You-Know-Who that Snape was among the wizards who went to your aid. You-Know-Who wasn't happy—not happy at all. Snape managed to convince him that he had to, to maintain his position as their spy at Hogwarts, but it didn't matter."
"What happened to him?" Ginny whispered.
"Let's just say that he had a very, very bad summer," Bill said, shaking his head. "Mum says it's a wonder he made it back to school at all."
"Oh!" Hermione whispered, shocked. "I had no idea!"
"Me either," whispered Harry, his eyes wide. "I wouldn't have thought—I mean, I didn't think—" He swallowed. "No wonder he's mad at me. He blames me."
"It's not your fault, though," Bill whispered forcefully. "Not your fault at all. Snape knew there were risks when he began doing what he's doing. And that's no excuse for his behavior—he ought to treat you like any other student no matter what—but at least now you know."
Bill leaned back in his chair, so the rest of them followed suit. Harry hadn't known that Snape had been punished for coming to save him. Now that he knew, he could understand why Snape had been so venemous to the three of them all term, but that hardly made things better. He felt even less prepared to face Snape now than he had been before.
Bill stretched and looked at his watch. "It's getting late. We ought to be heading back," he said. "Unless you've got anything else you want to do in town?"
"I have a composition to write," Ginny scowled. Harry, Ron, and Hermione laughed, and Ginny made a face at them.
They wrapped themselves back up in their cloaks and mufflers, paid Rosmerta for the mead, and stepped back out into the rain. It had gotten heavier while they'd been in the pub, and everyone had gone inside for shelter, leaving the streets almost entirely empty.
"I hope this lets up before tomorrow," Ginny said, peering at the clouds.
"We've practiced in rain before," Harry said encouragingly.
The road back to the school was eerily quiet except for the sound of the falling rain and the mud squelching below their shoes. The road ahead was nothing more than a mist of silver haze; Harry couldn't see the buildings on either side of them through his fogging, wet glasses. He felt lost. He plodded along behind Bill, not entirely sure of where they were, even though he felt like he knew Hogsmeade very well.
Suddenly, Bill stopped in his tracks. Harry bumped into him from behind. "What—?" he said, but Hermione hissed "Quiet!"
Bill's hand had gone to his earring. "Who's there?" he shouted into the falling rain. Harry peered over his shoulder—he could just make out a grayish shape in the path ahead. It quickly turned into the outline of a man; then, when he had come very close indeed, Harry could make out his face. It was the Ministry wizard who had nodded to Harry in the Three Broomsticks.
"Oh, it's you, Higgins," Bill said, relaxing. "You gave me a fright."
"You shouldn't have let me come so close," Higgins said reproachfully. "If I wanted to do you harm, I could have done it five times between there and here. You ought to have stunned me." Something in his gravelly tone reminded him of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classes they'd had with the imposter Mad-Eye Moody. Almost instinctively, Harry pulled out his wand.
"I couldn't see you," Bill said. "I wouldn't want to stun an innocent bystander."
"Better safe than sorry, they say," Higgins said. "And I'm afraid you're going to be very sorry indeed now."
"What?" Bill said, his hand flying back to his earring. "Was that a threat, Higgins?"
"The Dark Lord has business with the boy," Higgins said, smiling. "I will bring him back. Alive or dead—this time, there will be no mistakes." Harry was suddenly aware of Higgins's wand—pointing right at the scar on his forehead.
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Author's Note (cont'd)
You may have been wondering why it took me so long to post this chapter. There's a very simple reason for that. After every chapter I post, I get a slew of emails with suggestions, questions, guesses, etc. I don't mind this—actually, I want to encourage it! I love feedback, criticism, and hearing your ideas. But after the last chapter I got several emails accusing me of everything from being another author writing under a second account to outright plagiarism.
Before I go on, let me clear up a few things officially.
*This is my only account on Fanfiction.net. I use the account name "neoepiphany" for most everything I do online. I am not another author in disguise, nor do I have multiple accounts for any other purpose.
*No, I have not told anyone the answers to what happens, nor will I tell you. Besides me, the only person in the world who knows what happens at the end is my roommate Michelle. Even she doesn't know everything, and it took a lot of pleading for me to tell her in the first place. (If I drop dead in the midst of writing, you'll have to beg her for the conclusion.)
*None, I repeat, none of this story is plagiarized. It comes entirely from an original idea I had, and 100% of it is original text. If you've read any of it in another fanfic, it's much more likely that that author plagiarized me. If you try to prove it by telling me the "ending" and getting it hopelessly wrong, I reserve the right to publicly make fun of you.
Anyway, the end result of all this is that I was in a foul mood for a couple of days, and put off writing this particular story for over a week. I only write this story for fun—when it stops being fun, I stop writing. It's a simple as that.
Of course, that's not to say I'm not up for constructive criticism! I really do welcome criticism, suggestions, and questions. Just not accusations or attacks.
Ok, rant over, and back to NeoEpiphany's usual cheery demeanor!
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Will you be anxiously awaiting the next installment? (mwahaha! Suspense—my darling friend!)
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Reviewer Responses:
Wiccan Pussykat: Yes, I know, I spent quite a while on my moody little hiatus.
But now I'm back, and hopefully, it'll stay that way! ^_^
What are those Slytherins plotting? They're taking their sweet time—it can't be anything good! Hermione's detention isn't anything HUGELY critical to the plot, although it does serve to advance her character development (i.e. this is the first time we've ever seen Hermione do something detention-worthy on her own steam). Along the detention lines, don't worry, I'm not the kind of teacher who can give detentions, nor would I if I could. I more of a show-up-look-cool-speak-English sort of teacher. Will the spirit creatures be important? Would I have devoted so much time and energy to them if they were just a throw-away?
Kento: Yes, I know it was a little slow at the beginning. I'm the first to admit the story has pacing problems, which I would normally fix in the second draft. :) I had to cover a lot of daily routine because the first part of the story has all of the hints to the answers. But, as I said in the Author's note at the beginning of last chapter, now we're in more of an action section. Faster pace, more fighting, more characters popping in and out, etc.
She: Yep, the ring has been kind of background for a while. It will be for some time. But it is a critical piece of the puzzle, so have patience. McGonagall is slightly annoyed wit Tonks because she is a bit of a klutz, and I imagine McGonagall was Tonks's HoH, and is now wondering how such a troublemaker got to be a teacher. No, Hermione was just annoyed at Luna spouting more nonsense. They really do get along most of the time. I don't think they could have meant Snape because they didn't know that Snape was in the Order, right? (Unless of course, the real spy told them!) He was just their "lapdog" at Hogwarts. Good questions, keep 'em coming!
Jbfritz: So that's where Katie went! Good thinking.
Scorpion Lord: I'm glad you like the story! Ahh, cut me some slack about SPEW! Hermione did mention it earlier, when they were at Grimmauld Place. I'd like to think she's backing off a little while she regroups and comes up with better ways to help the elves. As to Dobby and Winky, well, in my defense, Dobby didn't appear in OotP until after the first trip to Hogsmeade, and Winky didn't appear at all! Yes, they are coming into the story (Dobby is in chapter 16). And as for Krum, nope, he won't be appearing in this story. But remember Ron and Hermione did fight over him and Hermione was writing him a letter at one point. I agree that hints of romance are important. I always said there is one important romance in this story... and a minor one, too.
Wynjara: I think they'll calm down. Hermione was just annoyed because Luna was spouting more "nonsense." I actually really like both their characters—Luna is one of my favorite people.
And that's it for this round. Tune in next week—same time, same place! :)