Chapter 2
Unhappy News
"None love the messenger who brings bad news." –Sophocles
Harry and Ron walked down the path of Diagon Alley toward Gringotts, debating whether Harry should play pro Quidditch, and (in Ron's case) which team he'd be on.
"Come on, Harry. You could be the best player of all time. Even better than that fool Krum." Ron spat the name out, not bothering to mask his disdain for the man. After he'd taken Hermione to the Yule ball in their third year, Ron's hate for Viktor Krum had grown; not to mention the fact that Krum was an opponent of Harry during the Triwizard Tournament also played a large role. "You could be on the Chuddley Cannons. It is the best team there is, you know."
"I don't know if I want to be a pro Quidditch player, Ron," Harry replied. "It would be a lot of fun; I'm not denying that. But I want to do something more rewarding. Like become an Auror."
"Well fine then. Help people instead of being famous. You're just being an unreasonably selfish prat."
"Yeah, that's me. Saving people's lives instead of playing a game all day. How do I live with myself?" He rolled his eyes.
"That's what I would like to know."
They were climbing the steps to the bank when they spotted Hermione leaning against one of the doors. Shortly before they'd left, Harry had sent Hedwig to tell her to meet them in Diagon Alley instead of at his house. They waved to her, and she rushed over to them.
Before they could even say hello, she was badgering them with questions. "Did you two get your N.E.W.T results back yet? I haven't and really worried about it. What if the delivery owl got lost? Or worse; what if I did so horrible that they didn't bother sending them at all? I knew I should have written more on the thestral massacre of 1654. Now I'll never get a good job, and I'll die alone, a cat lady, and when I do, they'll eat my eyes –"
Ron cut her off. "Whoa, slow down a moment Hermione. We haven't seen you in ages, and you barrage us with test questions. I must say, I almost miss that, though."
"I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous about it." "Don't worry, we haven't our results either," Harry said, draping his arm over her shoulder. "I'm sure you did amazing; you always do. If not, well, you can always be a fulltime member of the Order." He lowered his voice on the last sentence.
Hermione's eyes widened. "I'd forgotten all about that." She grinned and giggled. "Ooh, it's all so exciting, don't you think?"
"Oh yes. It's absolutely bloody amazing," Ron said sarcastically, a glum look on his face. Hermione looked at Harry questioningly.
"He's just nervous about the induction, that's all."
"Oh, Ron, there's nothing to be worried about." Hermione walked next to him and linked arms. "It'll be over with before you even realize. Now, I think I know just the thing to cheer you up."
"Oh really; and what is that?"
"Spending the day with your friends shopping, and then heading to Hogsmead for a nice glass of butterbeer. I'll bet Madame Rosemerta will be there today."
Ron's eyes lit up. "I bet she will be. Let's go have some fun." Grinning, he pulled Hermione down the stairs. She grabbed Harry's arm, and the three of them walked down the street. Harry smiled to himself. This was turning out to be one of the best days of his life. Unfortunately, the thought didn't last too long.
-
A few hours later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeer and catching up with Hermione. She had been on vacation with her parents during the summer in Ireland, as a graduation present.
"It was amazingly beautiful; you two would have loved it." She took another sip of butterbeer. "The glades, the castles; it was all so gorgeous. Enough about what I've been doing; I want to hear what you guys have been up to."
"Mostly just working on making the house hospitable for people. Honestly, I don't know how Kreacher could stand to live in filth," said Ron, sipping his own butterbeer. "I was so happy when we gave him clothes and –"
Hermione choked on her drink, causing some of the liquid to come out her nose. She swallowed and wiped her face, then glared at Harry and Ron. "You did what?!? I can't believe you guys. He did nothing but serve you, and you throw him into the cold world!"
Harry snorted. "'Serve you.' That's rich. He did exactly the opposite: he never cleaned, he was always insulting us 'under his breath', and whenever he got the chance, he would wake the portrait of Sirius's mother up causing her to scream at the top of lungs; usually in the middle of the night. He thought he could drive us out the house. Well, it was either me or him, and was not about to lose the one thing I have as a memory of my godfather."
At that, Hermione shut her mouth abruptly, and her eyes softened the way they always did when Harry mentioned Sirius. She looked down at the table, and Ron looked away, chugging the rest of his drink down.
"Don't act like that you guys. It's been two years. I'm over it; almost all the way. You don't have to act like that whenever I say his name."
"You still didn't need to be so mean to Kreacher," Hermione said under her breath, in a matter-of-factly type tone.
"I could have cut off his head and mounted over the fireplace next to his mother's like he always wanted, if you'd have preferred. I wouldn't have had any problems with that scenario."
Ron snorted, causing a spray of butterbeer to rain over the table. He laughed and said, "That would have been rich."
"You two. Honestly, you'd think the only way you two get off is by causing that creature pain." She crossed her arms and sat back, glaring at the both of them.
"And luckily, his suffering was to my gain," came a silky yet oily voice from behind them.
The three of them turned around to face the source of such a voice, which came from none other than Draco Malfoy. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, looking as large as ever. Malfoy smirked and shook his silvery hair from his eyes. His slate blue eyes flashed.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione spat.
"The last time I checked, it was a legal for a person to come in here for a drink, not an offence to be tried by the Wizengamot. I just wanted to find Potter and thank him." He smiled wickedly.
"What for?" Harry asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Why, for the lovely house elf you sent me, of course. Or did you forget that Black and my mother are related? Tut tut, Potter; you appear to be slacking. I'm sure he'll have loads of interesting things to tell me. It should be quite entertaining, to say the least. And I'm sure I can find others who will enjoy it as much as I." Malfoy's eyes flashed with amusement.
Ron met Harry's eyes, and they both felt a wave of despair wash through their bodies.
"So," Draco said, "can some one get a decent drink a place like this, or do they have only butterbeer for the ickle teenagers." He laughed and ran his hand through his hair. In doing so, the sleeve of his robe slipped down, and Harry caught sight of something on his forearm.
"If you don't like it," Hermione said, "you can always go to the Hog's Head. They haven't cleaned it for a while, so you'll be more at home, with the filth you keep company with."
Draco bared his teeth in rage. "Say something like that again, and you'll have six feet of dirt on top of you to keep company with, you filthy mudblood."
At that Harry and Ron had swiftly gotten to their feet and instinctively were reaching for their wands. At the same time, Crabbe and Goyle, who had been silent and not moved since they'd arrived, pushed in front Malfoy, ready to protect him. Before anything could happen, Hermione climbed over the table and stood in front of Ron and Harry. "Don't bother; he isn't worth."
"Listen to Granger, Potter; you don't want all these witnesses to talk do you?"
Harry chanced a look around the room, and found that every one was staring at the commotion. Begrudgingly, he lowered his wand; Ron did the same. Draco chuckled softly.
"That's what was always wrong with you three; you never had any gall. It'll come back and bite you in the ass, mark my words."
At that, he motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them walked out of the pub. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron with desperate eyes.
"Well, we sure are in it deep now."
Unhappy News
"None love the messenger who brings bad news." –Sophocles
Harry and Ron walked down the path of Diagon Alley toward Gringotts, debating whether Harry should play pro Quidditch, and (in Ron's case) which team he'd be on.
"Come on, Harry. You could be the best player of all time. Even better than that fool Krum." Ron spat the name out, not bothering to mask his disdain for the man. After he'd taken Hermione to the Yule ball in their third year, Ron's hate for Viktor Krum had grown; not to mention the fact that Krum was an opponent of Harry during the Triwizard Tournament also played a large role. "You could be on the Chuddley Cannons. It is the best team there is, you know."
"I don't know if I want to be a pro Quidditch player, Ron," Harry replied. "It would be a lot of fun; I'm not denying that. But I want to do something more rewarding. Like become an Auror."
"Well fine then. Help people instead of being famous. You're just being an unreasonably selfish prat."
"Yeah, that's me. Saving people's lives instead of playing a game all day. How do I live with myself?" He rolled his eyes.
"That's what I would like to know."
They were climbing the steps to the bank when they spotted Hermione leaning against one of the doors. Shortly before they'd left, Harry had sent Hedwig to tell her to meet them in Diagon Alley instead of at his house. They waved to her, and she rushed over to them.
Before they could even say hello, she was badgering them with questions. "Did you two get your N.E.W.T results back yet? I haven't and really worried about it. What if the delivery owl got lost? Or worse; what if I did so horrible that they didn't bother sending them at all? I knew I should have written more on the thestral massacre of 1654. Now I'll never get a good job, and I'll die alone, a cat lady, and when I do, they'll eat my eyes –"
Ron cut her off. "Whoa, slow down a moment Hermione. We haven't seen you in ages, and you barrage us with test questions. I must say, I almost miss that, though."
"I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous about it." "Don't worry, we haven't our results either," Harry said, draping his arm over her shoulder. "I'm sure you did amazing; you always do. If not, well, you can always be a fulltime member of the Order." He lowered his voice on the last sentence.
Hermione's eyes widened. "I'd forgotten all about that." She grinned and giggled. "Ooh, it's all so exciting, don't you think?"
"Oh yes. It's absolutely bloody amazing," Ron said sarcastically, a glum look on his face. Hermione looked at Harry questioningly.
"He's just nervous about the induction, that's all."
"Oh, Ron, there's nothing to be worried about." Hermione walked next to him and linked arms. "It'll be over with before you even realize. Now, I think I know just the thing to cheer you up."
"Oh really; and what is that?"
"Spending the day with your friends shopping, and then heading to Hogsmead for a nice glass of butterbeer. I'll bet Madame Rosemerta will be there today."
Ron's eyes lit up. "I bet she will be. Let's go have some fun." Grinning, he pulled Hermione down the stairs. She grabbed Harry's arm, and the three of them walked down the street. Harry smiled to himself. This was turning out to be one of the best days of his life. Unfortunately, the thought didn't last too long.
-
A few hours later, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeer and catching up with Hermione. She had been on vacation with her parents during the summer in Ireland, as a graduation present.
"It was amazingly beautiful; you two would have loved it." She took another sip of butterbeer. "The glades, the castles; it was all so gorgeous. Enough about what I've been doing; I want to hear what you guys have been up to."
"Mostly just working on making the house hospitable for people. Honestly, I don't know how Kreacher could stand to live in filth," said Ron, sipping his own butterbeer. "I was so happy when we gave him clothes and –"
Hermione choked on her drink, causing some of the liquid to come out her nose. She swallowed and wiped her face, then glared at Harry and Ron. "You did what?!? I can't believe you guys. He did nothing but serve you, and you throw him into the cold world!"
Harry snorted. "'Serve you.' That's rich. He did exactly the opposite: he never cleaned, he was always insulting us 'under his breath', and whenever he got the chance, he would wake the portrait of Sirius's mother up causing her to scream at the top of lungs; usually in the middle of the night. He thought he could drive us out the house. Well, it was either me or him, and was not about to lose the one thing I have as a memory of my godfather."
At that, Hermione shut her mouth abruptly, and her eyes softened the way they always did when Harry mentioned Sirius. She looked down at the table, and Ron looked away, chugging the rest of his drink down.
"Don't act like that you guys. It's been two years. I'm over it; almost all the way. You don't have to act like that whenever I say his name."
"You still didn't need to be so mean to Kreacher," Hermione said under her breath, in a matter-of-factly type tone.
"I could have cut off his head and mounted over the fireplace next to his mother's like he always wanted, if you'd have preferred. I wouldn't have had any problems with that scenario."
Ron snorted, causing a spray of butterbeer to rain over the table. He laughed and said, "That would have been rich."
"You two. Honestly, you'd think the only way you two get off is by causing that creature pain." She crossed her arms and sat back, glaring at the both of them.
"And luckily, his suffering was to my gain," came a silky yet oily voice from behind them.
The three of them turned around to face the source of such a voice, which came from none other than Draco Malfoy. Behind him stood Crabbe and Goyle, looking as large as ever. Malfoy smirked and shook his silvery hair from his eyes. His slate blue eyes flashed.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione spat.
"The last time I checked, it was a legal for a person to come in here for a drink, not an offence to be tried by the Wizengamot. I just wanted to find Potter and thank him." He smiled wickedly.
"What for?" Harry asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Why, for the lovely house elf you sent me, of course. Or did you forget that Black and my mother are related? Tut tut, Potter; you appear to be slacking. I'm sure he'll have loads of interesting things to tell me. It should be quite entertaining, to say the least. And I'm sure I can find others who will enjoy it as much as I." Malfoy's eyes flashed with amusement.
Ron met Harry's eyes, and they both felt a wave of despair wash through their bodies.
"So," Draco said, "can some one get a decent drink a place like this, or do they have only butterbeer for the ickle teenagers." He laughed and ran his hand through his hair. In doing so, the sleeve of his robe slipped down, and Harry caught sight of something on his forearm.
"If you don't like it," Hermione said, "you can always go to the Hog's Head. They haven't cleaned it for a while, so you'll be more at home, with the filth you keep company with."
Draco bared his teeth in rage. "Say something like that again, and you'll have six feet of dirt on top of you to keep company with, you filthy mudblood."
At that Harry and Ron had swiftly gotten to their feet and instinctively were reaching for their wands. At the same time, Crabbe and Goyle, who had been silent and not moved since they'd arrived, pushed in front Malfoy, ready to protect him. Before anything could happen, Hermione climbed over the table and stood in front of Ron and Harry. "Don't bother; he isn't worth."
"Listen to Granger, Potter; you don't want all these witnesses to talk do you?"
Harry chanced a look around the room, and found that every one was staring at the commotion. Begrudgingly, he lowered his wand; Ron did the same. Draco chuckled softly.
"That's what was always wrong with you three; you never had any gall. It'll come back and bite you in the ass, mark my words."
At that, he motioned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them walked out of the pub. Harry looked at Hermione and Ron with desperate eyes.
"Well, we sure are in it deep now."