It took two days for them to persuade Mrs Weasley to let them leave the house.
Well:- 'persuade' was possibly not the right word.
It was more a campaign against the nerves: a household of bored, scowling teenagers versus Mrs Weasley. How long before she would crack? Ginny conscripted Fred and George into the cause, and orchestrated the whole affair.
"It's an art form," she instructed them all airily. "You have to push just hard enough to get her shouting, but not so much that she can't stop. If you get her going so badly she can't stop, you've blown it."
Fred and George nodded proudly in agreement, pleased their little sister was growing into such a worthy successor. Ron, on the other hand, looked at her with vague horror. "Are all girls this devious?" he muttered into Harry's ear.
Broadly speaking, the lines of attack were as follows:
"I'm bored, Mum." Ginny, whining.
"I don't see why we can't go to Diagon Alley. I mean, it's nearly Christmas. We won't even get any presents this year, they blew up…Can't we at least go window shopping?" Ron, bitterly.
"Oh, let them come, Mum. We'll look after them. We're over age, after all. They can hang out at the shop." Fred and George, heartily.
"Please, Mrs Weasley. I'd really like to be able to get some books so I can keep up with my studies before next term." Hermione, timidly.
Ginny watched carefully for the precise moment her mother began to turn red around the ears, and nodded the ceasefire. They waited, tensely.
"FINE! JUST FINE! YOU GO OUT THERE AND GET YOURSELVES ALL KILLED! GIVE ME SOME PEACE AT LAST!"
Mrs Weasley slammed pots around. BANG, the heavy cauldron in which she was preparing stew for dinner. CRASH, the rolling pin. She turned and glared at the five of them.
"All right," she said, slightly more calmly.
Ginny, out of her line of sight, beamed and made a thumbs-up sign. Mrs Weasley continued. "I suppose you can't come to much harm once you're there. But you need someone to escort you. Yes, Fred and George, I know you are over-age. But you didn't get your NEWTS, did you? You left school, as I recall. You aren't qualified wizards, if I remember rightly…"
"Head her off, head her off," Ginny hissed urgently into Harry's ear.
"That's great, Mrs Weasley," Harry said loudly. "Who can we ask to go with us? I've never been to Diagon Alley at Christmas before, I'm really looking forward to it…"
Mrs Weasley's face softened. "Dear Harry. Of course you must see Diagon Alley at Christmas. But you do all need to be very careful. I'll ask Bill if he can spare an hour to take you. You'll be safe once you're there as long as you stick to the main street. Is that clear, all of you? Then you can meet Bill at Gringotts to bring you home.."
They dispersed rapidly, before she could change her mind. Ginny, in particular, faded off with some speed. Her leg was nearly healed, but she still looked a little peaky from the after-effects of poison in her system.
"What do we do about clothes?" Harry asked doubtfully, looking at the thick wizarding robes in which they were all dressed. "If we have to cross Muggle London to get there, we're not exactly going to blend in."
"We have a charm for that," Fred informed him. "We've been using it ever since they stopped letting us use the Floo network except when specially monitored. Here, see – MUGGLIFY!"
Harry blinked. In front of him stood a short, stocky redhead apparently wearing a baseball cap and a bomber jacket.
"It's really cool," George told him. "It's just an illusion. Once we get to the Leaky Cauldron, we DeMuggle, and we're done!"
Bill Apparated to the house in response to his mother's summons. He didn't look too pleased.
"Come on, you lot," he said brusquely. "I'm supposed to be at work now, you know. The head goblin won't be impressed if he finds I've gone running off to babysit."
They followed meekly. Outside, the air was cold but not damp. The crisp chill burned red spots onto their noses and ears. Muggle London was still exciting to Harry. The Dursleys hadn't exactly taken him on numerous expeditions beyond Little Whinging. The trip to the zoo just before his first year at Hogwarts had been the absolute high point of his travels in their company.
It didn't take long to get to Charing Cross. The Leaky Cauldron was busier than Harry remembered ever seeing it. He supposed people were doing last-minute Christmas shopping. The bustle, buzz and convivial atmosphere lifted his spirits no end.
"Hey," Fred said. "Harry smiled!"
"Not any more," George observed, watching Harry's expressive features. "That's some scowl, been taking lessons from old Snapey?"
Harry grinned again despite himself. Bill tapped the wall in the alley at the back of the pub. It drew itself back to reveal a vibrant scene. Harry blinked. He had always thought Diagon Alley a sight to behold. At Christmas, it was an absolute riot of colour and noise. It was packed with witches and wizards in every variety and shade of robes, laden with odd-shaped parcels.
"Right," Bill said firmly, and quite loudly to be heard over the cacophony of street-sellers. "You heard Mum. Main street only, OK? You can meet me back at Gringotts in, um, two hours. Right?"
He was about to turn on his heel when Harry called to him. "Bill! Could I come to Gringotts with you? I need some money!"
"Hmm." Bill looked assessingly at Ron and Ginny. "I'd better give you two some as well, hadn't I? I don't suppose you had any coins on you when we got out of the Burrow…"
"Or even before that," Ron muttered, kicking a stone.
Fred and George left for their joke shop, currently under the stewardship of Lee Jordan, making hasty arrangements to meet up at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour later. Harry wasn't sure it was quite the weather for ice cream, but Ron assured him that hot toffee sundaes at Floreans were an experience worth having.
The goblins wouldn't let Hermione, Ron and Ginny accompany Harry to his vault. He was grateful. He didn't want them to see its contents. It made him ashamed, to be so rich when the Weasleys were so poor.
"Great," Hermione said briskly, as he rejoined them, "Flourish and Botts, then!"
"The bookshop!" Ron moaned. "I thought that was just a ruse to get Mum to let us come!"
Hermione threw her bushy hair back. "I thought you wanted to find out about this amulet thing…"
"Oh, yeah, right. But can't we do some proper shopping first? I mean, look!" Ron held out his hand in excitement. Bill had given three Galleons to both him and Ginny.
They browsed happily for some time. There was such a press of people, it took Harry some time be sure of it. But as they moved from shop to shop, he became quite certain that somebody was following them.
He whispered as much to Hermione, who glanced nervously behind her. "Stop that!" Harry said. "If they are following us, we don't want them to know we know…"
"And why would that be?" Hermione asked sarcastically. "Just in case we scared them off?"
"Well, we need to know who it is, don't we?" Harry pointed out. "So we can out work out what they want with us."
They ducked into a doorway in the pretence of rearranging their parcels.
"There," Harry hissed. "Look."
Ron cast a would-be casual glance in the direction Harry had indicated.
"Harry, you prat!" he exclaimed. "OY! PERCY!"
The skinny, cloaked figure whom Harry was convinced had been tailing them now came up to them. He threw back his hood and Harry saw it was indeed Percy. His horn-rimmed spectacles pinched the top of his nose as he looked down at them.
"Really, Ron," he admonished. "Must you bellow after me in the street like that? I do have a certain standing to maintain, you know. I was just about to catch you up anyway."
Harry was silent. He hadn't seen Percy since the Triwizard Tournament. The year after, Percy had done his best to persuade Ron that Harry was a lunatic, and had even broken links with his own family. Harry was glad Percy was back on speaking terms with the Weasleys. But it didn't mean he had to like him.
The feeling was apparently mutual. Percy's thin lips pursed as he saw Harry, although he unbent sufficiently to smile benignly at Hermione. She nodded politely at him, but her eyes were dark.
Ginny, it seemed, had not forgiven Percy at all. She was glowering at him like an offended cat.
"Ginevra," Percy said to her kindly. "How nice to see you looking so well."
Ginny snorted. "I just got nearly eaten by Hell Hounds," she whispered in Harry's ear. "I'm positively blooming. Prat."
Percy frowned at her.
"Hello, Percy," Harry said loudly. "How are you, then?"
"Harry." Percy's thin nose twitched as if someone had shoved a Dungbomb underneath it. Inconsequentially, Harry was reminded that the Weasleys were related to Narcissa Black. "Hmm."
"Well," Ron said awkwardly. "We're just doing some shopping. So, we'll be on our way then, OK?"
"A word with you, Ron."
Percy grabbed Ron's shoulder and detained him as the others began to move on down the street. They watched curiously as Percy spoke earnestly to Ron. Ron drew back as if angry, then whirled around and marched towards them. Percy watched him for a moment, then walked off himself in the opposite direction.
"I'm going to kill him one day, so help me," Ron said through gritted teeth. "I don't care if he is my own brother!"
"What did he say?" Hermione asked quietly.
"He said," Ron spat out, "that he saw I was still being careless about the company I keep. He said I should watch my step."
Harry was puzzled. "What's he on about now then? I thought most of the Ministry were coming round to the idea that Dumbledore was right about Voldemort all along.." By extension, this meant Harry had ceased to be an arrogant, attention-seeking, disturbed teenager, and had once more become the Boy Who Lived.
Ron shook his head grimly. "Percy's still not convinced, you know. He reckons it's all exaggeration. He even thinks people like Malfoy have a point!"
Ginny stamped her foot, scandalized that any close relation of hers would share the time of day let alone an actual opinion with Lucius Malfoy.
"But Malfoy's in Azkaban!" Harry exclaimed in amazement. "He's a proven Death Eater!"
"Percy thinks that's all a mistake. That Malfoy was just on the wrong side of a political struggle for power. He thinks Malfoy was framed…"
"Framed?" Harry spat out. "Like, how? 'Oh there you are, Lucius, be a dear and put this nice mask on, and while you're about it just point your wand at that child over there and say "crucio", would you?'"
"Malfoy," Ron added darkly and meaningfully, "is a very rich man…His support still means a great deal in terms of career advancement. Even from Azkaban, Dad says. Although it's his wife who is pulling the strings now."
Harry was shocked by the implications.
"And why does Percy still have it in for me so much?" he demanded. "I don't like him, either, but…"
Ron looked shifty. "Well. Just at the moment, mate, he kind of blames you for The Burrow being burned down.."
Harry looked down. His insides wormed.
"Time for Florean's," Hermione interrupted hastily. "And then off to Flourish and Bott's!"
