CHAPTER THREE: Reunion at The Leaky Cauldron

Harry had barely reached the steps of the Leaky Cauldron before the dilapidated door opened. Two familiar faces appeared framed in the doorway.

"Say, mate, would you like hand with that trunk?"

Still aching and a little shaken from his dream, Harry felt a glare form on his face as he looked up to answer Ron's sarcastic comment. Instead, the sight of his two best friends prompted an uncontrollable smile. Harry hadn't realized how much he had missed Ron and Hermione, and at that moment he really couldn't think of anyplace he'd rather be.

"Oh, Ron, really!" Hermione's tone was more good-natured than chastising. She was beaming at Harry, and Ron's freckled face also wore a large grin. Ron and Hermione each grabbed an end of Harry's trunk, lugging it into the dusky building as Harry followed with Hedwig.

Hedwig seemed to instantly realize where she was. As soon as the door closed, greatly diminishing the hustle and bustle of the London streets, Harry's owl began to flap her wings and hoot excitedly. Harry set down Hedwig's cage and unlatched it. The snow-white owl bolted from the cage like a runner that had just heard the firing of a starter's pistol. Harry watched Hedwig soar down the hall, obviously in search of an open window that would give her access to Diagon Alley. Harry could hardly blame her – after spending a summer with the Dursleys, he felt very much the same way.

Hermione grasped Harry's arm, and he turned back toward her. "Let's go up and talk." Her expression was so somber that Harry didn't protest. He watched Ron and Hermione as they quickly exchanged anxious looks. "What is it? What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's better to talk in the room, Harry," Ron answered. "Hermione's charmed the door."

Ron and Hermione continued to carry Harry's trunk as they climbed the stairs to the rooms; after lugging it for two blocks, Harry was quite willing to let them do so. The three entered the room that Harry supposed would be his and Ron's; once inside, he could see Ron's clothes strung about on one of the beds, and a familiar small owl perched on the bedpost. "Hullo again, Pig," Harry said.

Ron glanced at his owl, then went over to the window. "You'd better go out now, Pig," he said. "We've got to close the window for a while." Pigwidgeon ruffled his feathers, hooting balefully at the trio, and then took off out the window. Ron shrugged, closing the window. "He's tired – he just got in not too long ago. But it's better that no one can hear us."

Harry looked between his two friends, finally really seeing them for the first time. Although tan and taller (if that was at all possible), Ron didn't look too different. But once Harry viewed Hermione –

"Hermione! Your hair!"

Hermione blushed, raising a hand to her head. Instead of the long, sometimes bushy hair that Harry had equated with Hermione for the past five years, she now sported a short, tapered cut. It was actually quite attractive, and coupled with the rosy blush rising on Hermione's cheeks, Harry found himself thinking how pretty she looked. It wasn't the first time that he had thought this – at the Yule Ball two years ago, during the Triwizard Tournament, Harry had been startled into realizing that his bookworm friend could be very pretty. But that had been a special occasion, and everyone had been dressed up and looking not quite like themselves. Once out of the formal attire, it was easy to once again regard Hermione as her studious, no-nonsense self.

It was obvious that wasn't going to work this time. As Harry cast his eyes down, he saw that there were other "new" changes to Hermione besides the haircut. Ron began to snigger, and, realizing that he was staring, Harry felt his face begin to blush as red as Hermione's, He turned to look at Ron guiltily, but it seemed Ron hadn't noticed Harry's embarrassment. "Do you know why her hair is short? Tell, him, Hermione!" Ron said breathlessly.

Hermione's face became even a deeper red, but it seemed this time the blush was of anger. "Ron, that's really not what we need to talk to Harry about – "

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron said. "I think Harry could use a laugh." When Hermione didn't answer, instead crossing her arms defiantly, Ron explained for her. "She screwed up a spell!" Ron's expression eerily reminded Harry of the look on Uncle Vernon's face when he had told Aunt Petunia "to plan for only three" for dinner. Ron went on, almost unable to get the words out between the laughs. "Miss perfect prefect, Miss a hundred and twelve per cent!" Ron's words dissolved into laughter again. Perplexed, Harry looked at Hermione. She sighed impatiently. "No one's perfect, Ron. Do I have to remind you about the slugs?"

Ron stopped laughing abruptly. "That's not the same thing! It was a good spell, it's just that my wand was broken. If it hadn't been, Malfoy would've been sicking up the slugs! And what about the Polyjuice Potion? I'm not the one that turned myself into a cat!"

Hermione seemed ready to fire back when Harry moved forward to put himself bodily in between the two. "Stop it!" he said, and both Ron and Hermione quieted, although it was obvious the argument could've continued indefinitely. Harry looked at Ron. "Hermione's right: no one's perfect." He turned to Hermione. "And what kind of spell mix-up could cut your hair?"

Hermione sent one final glare toward Ron, then sat down on the uncluttered bed. "I tried to transform my hair color, like Tonks does," she admitted to Harry.

Ron snorted. "It's not so simple -unlessit's something you're born with, like how you can talk to snakes, Harry."

"I know that," Harry said. "Tonks told me. She's a Metamorphagus. I thought you knew that," he said to Hermione.

"Oh, she knew," Ron answered. He had a smug look. "But Hermione just wouldn't accept that there was a spell she couldn'tmaster once she's looked it up in a book."

Hermione was obviously tired of Ron's interpretation of events. "I did learn the spell…somewhat," she interrupted. "I did change my hair color. The only problem was changing it back."

Ron began laughing again, and was holding his side as if a cramp had set in. "Only half of her hair changed back. She was too embarrassed to ask anyone for help, so she finally had to give up and cut it. It's too bad you didn't get to see it, Harry. Green just isn't her color."

Harry was torn between laughing along with Ron and feeling sympathetic toward Hermione. He was actually impressed that Hermione had found the determination and the skill to attempt a metamorphis. At the same time, it was reassuring to know that Hermione wasn't quite as infallible as she sometimes seemed.

Hermione stared at Ron expectantly. Ron finally sat himself down on the clothes-covered bed, obviously having to force himself to stop laughing. It wasn't long before Harry's two friends regarded him seriously again, and as Harry stood in the middle of the room he felt a growing foreboding. The dream he had experienced during the ride to the Leaky Cauldron suddenly exploded freshly in his memory, drowning any temporary pleasure he had received during the reunion.

"I think I need to talk to – " Harry started, and at the same time, Hermione said, "Well, I know you've been waiting all summer to hear – " They both stopped talking at the same time, sharing an awkward laugh. "You go ahead, Harry," Hermione said.

"No, that's okay." Harry wasn't really that anxious to share his dream, and the strange feelings it had produced. He felt he probably would need to let Hermione and Ron know what had happened, but, anticipating their worried reactions, it was something he didn't mind putting off. "I do want to know what's been happening here," he said next, sitting on the bed near Ron. "Your letters – well, I know something's happened at Hogwarts. And I don't really want to start the term in the dark."

"You wouldn't be the only one," Ron said. "I mean, the only reason Hermione and I know anything is because of the Order."

"That's why we couldn't tell you, Harry," Hermione explained plaintively. "If anyone intercepted our letters, well, they would know that we had inside information. They could find out that Ron parent's and brother were in the order. Especially now that everything is so hush-hush at the Ministry of Magic…"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

Ron's face clouded slightly. "Everything is incredibly confidential now. The Ministry is worried about attacks. You-know-who hasn't really been as…active as everyone thought he might be – at least, not that anyone knows of – but the Ministry isn't taking any chances. There's security charms at every entrance, you have to file a form in triplicate to use a Portkey, and only certain witches and wizards are allowed to Apparate. My dad has to come by floo powder now. After what happened to him last year…"

Harry knew that Ron was talking about how Arthur Weasley had been attacked by a serpent while guarding a prophecy at the Ministry. "But – that's not – it wasn't your dad's fault! He stayed at his post – he could've gotten killed, protecting the Ministry! And that's how they repay him!"

"You don't have to convince, me, Harry," Ron answered darkly. "We've all been pretty angry about it. Except for Mum. She keeps telling us we should be glad Dad still has a job. And Dad says he doesn't mind using the fireplace to travel."

"Ron and his brothers are taking it personally," Hermione interrupted. "But his parents understand."

"Understand what?" Harry asked. Ron had a sour look on his face, and he didn't respond.

Hermione continued. "When Voldemort came to power before, Harry, everything was like how it is now at the Ministry. There were security charms and extra protection everywhere. There were curfews at Hogsmeade, and Hogwarts was almost like a prison. People were suspicious of everyone, and sometimes it was easier to fire people that you didn't trust than to worry about what would happen if they had divided loyalties. I know because I've been reading up on that time period, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went through it. They remember how it used to be."

"But that doesn't mean that Dad should be singled out, and after all the years he's been loyal to the Ministry!" Ron said heatedly.

"Well, it doesn't help that Percy is an assistant to the Minister of Magic," Hermione said automatically, and Harry got the impression that Ron and Hermione had had this discussion many times before.

Ron drew in a breath, ready to fire back, but Harry was getting impatient with the two of them. "All right! I understand!" he said. "You couldn't tell me anything in the letters because you aren't supposed to know anything, right? Because the Ministry is being so secretive. Right?" he asked again when neither Hermione or Ron answered him.

Ron sentone moreangry look in Hermione's direction, then sighed. "Yes," he said finally, his shoulders slumping slightly as he relaxed. "The only reason we know about the staff changes at Hogwarts is because Snape's in the Order."

At the mention of Snape's name, Harry once again recalled the uncomfortable episode he'd had in Uncle Vernon's car. He felt his body absorbing the tenseness that had just left Ron's. "Snape? What does Snape have to do with the staff changes?"

Hermione rose, coming to kneel before Harry and Ron. "Snape is the staff change, Harry," she said quietly. "He finally got what he's been wanting for years – he's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."