Chapter 2 – Creeves Takes Charge
Creeves shimmered in, carrying a tray before him.
"Good morning, sir. I have taken the liberty of preparing one of my restorative potions."
"Dashed good thing that. I'm in need of some restoration after what I've just read."
"Sir?"
"Hedwig just flew in with the morning post, and what do you suppose was in it?"
"Ill tidings, I presume?"
"These tidings are past ill, Creeves. Tidings like these are at death's door. They are having their lawyer draw up papers that begin, 'I, Tidings, being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath…'!"
"I'm sorry to hear that, sir. Perhaps if you were to tell me the nature of the missive, I would be able to render some assistance?"
That's Creeves for you – filled to the brim with the feudal spirit – always ready to cluster round when the young master is in the soup. I gave him the Wizard's Digest abridged version of the letter, as I couldn't bear to read it again. "It's from Ron. Apparently his wedding to Hermione Granger has been called off."
"How unfortunate for Mister Weasley."
"How unfortunate for Mister Potter is what you should be saying. Or have you forgot that I was once affianced to the blighted Granger? Or that it was by sheer dumb luck that I was able to wriggle free before any rice became airborne? Or that until she became safely engaged to Ron, I was living under the dangling sword of what's-its?"
"Damocles, sir?"
"Yes, that's the chap. Have you so soon forgot that I was, for a time, Damocles to Hermione's sword dangler? Or was Damocles the one doing the dangling?"
"It was Dionysius, sir, and no, the memories of those events are still fresh in my mind."
"As they are in mine, Creeves. And now, if Ron is not going to take a Bludger for the team, the rest of us, yours truly in particular, are in mortal danger once again. No, we've got to act, and act swiftly to mend the rift that exists between these two before it grows to … to … some sort of larger rift."
"If I knew the cause of the estrangement between Mister Weasley and Miss Granger, I might be better able to formulate a stratagem."
"I would like nothing better than to start your wheels to motion, Creeves, but the letter doesn't say why the engagement has been scratched. It just says to expect him for lunch today and he will lay it all out for you. He mentions you specifically; that must mean he wants your help in getting back on the broom. You know, your opinions are highly prized among my pals down at the Gnomes. They all see you as an Order of Merlin First Class advice dispenser."
"I endeavor to give satisfaction, sir."
The more I thought about the situation, the more at ease I became. At least, the more unlikely to hyperventilate into a bag I became. If gloomy old Ron was still hopeful of a reconciliation, then the situation must not be that dire, and with Creeves on the case the outlook was good for Mr. and Mrs. Granger to start requesting the honor of everyone's presence.
The trouble was, I had to keep well away from Hermione until Creeves had time to do his stuff. If I were forced to confront a stricken, weeping, woe-is-me version of my boyhood friend, I know just what would happen. My chivalrous nature would kick in and I would say something complimentary. Hermione would begin to brighten but then doubt my sincerity and return to the depths of despair. Then I would redouble my efforts and say things that a man should say only to those females toward whom he has honorable intentions. I would find myself finishing the thing on one knee, and before you can say "Caput Draconis," I'm drying the tears of the future Mrs. Harry Potter.
I'm not drawing on any heretofore-unmentioned powers of divination in saying this, only experience. I did the same thing the day after she was jilted by Viktor Krum. Luckily, Hermione broke our engagement when she fell in love with Ron. Otherwise the Code of the Potters would have demanded I go through with it. That same code caused me to pretend that I was saddened by her rejection, when, in reality, I was on velvet. The upshot is that to this day the Granger believes I still pine for her and that I cling feverishly to the hope that she will return to me.