Chapter 6
"Hey, Ron!" Harry called, trying to sound casual. Ron turned around, rolling his eyes more than Harry had thought possible of a human.
"Harry, do you honestly want that bodyguard following you everywhere you go—"
"Shut up!" Harry hissed. When Ron was close enough, Harry muttered, "Look in the crowd, next to that old hag…" He secretly pointed to his right.
A pair of silvery gray eyes that Harry knew all too well was staring at the two of them. The boy attached to those eyes laughed maliciously and stepped out of the group of people, towards Harry and Ron.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally come out of the robe shop."
"Beat it, Malfoy," Ron growled, stepping between Harry and Draco. Although he knew Ron was just trying to help, Harry wasn't sure if confronting Draco Malfoy was a particularly wise thing to do. True, Ron was taller and less lanky than the previous year, but Malfoy had obviously taken puberty very seriously. He was far from scrawny, and, by the size of his muscles, looked like he had practiced Quidditch all summer long.
"Hey, Weasel," Malfoy spat, "I heard your dad was fired. Too bad. My dad took over his department… I guess they only kept the best half of workers at the ministry."
Ron swelled with anger. Malfoy, noticing that he had touched a major nerve, went on. "It's not that your dad isn't a hard worker, Weasley, he's just too stupid to run a department of his own." It was Harry's turn to step in… he pulled an irate Ron back. Harry was fairly certain that Malfoy wouldn't start throwing punches in the middle of a crowded street, but he wasn't so sure about Ron.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
Malfoy smirked. "You're right, I have to go and figure out where I'm going to spend my million galleons."
"What are you talking about? I'm still alive, you idiot," Harry laughed. "And besides, you're not even 16 yet, so you won't get anything."
"I only have two and a half more weeks until I'm 16. Nobody will kill you before then…" Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "but I know you'll be dead before Christmas holidays."
"You're not going to kill him," Ron interjected angrily.
Malfoy was silent for a moment.
"I won't have to."
"Then how can you be so sure he'll die?" Ron said. "Perhaps everyone is thinking that someone else will do it and it'll never happen. There! Problem solved!" Ron clenched his jaw. "Come on Harry, I'm leaving." Ron began to walk away quickly. Harry followed him, looking back at Malfoy.
"Weasley, you live too sheltered a life to be allowed out in public," Malfoy called after him. "Once you're out in the real world, you'll see that people are not all good. You're going to find out sooner than you think!" And with that, Malfoy turned and walked the opposite direction.
Ron didn't talk for a long time. They reached muggle London through the Leaky Cauldron, but Ron was so angry, he took several wrong turns.
Harry didn't like the silence as they walked; it gave him too much time to think—something he had managed to avoid since Voldemort had appeared. Malfoy's last words echoed in Harry's head along with Voldemort's, creating something like a deep, hissing chant that wouldn't go away.
Each step Harry took seemed to make him more dizzy. He was worth more dead than alive. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn't feel so hungry anymore… in fact, he felt like throwing up. He took two deep breaths, convincing himself not to do anything sickly until he reached the hotel room. His face seemed hollow—void of color or emotion. He just followed Ron, taking deep breaths and trying to blink away the dizziness from his eyes.
He was so preoccupied with everything, Harry didn't even notice walking into the hotel. It wasn't until Ron complained about the long wait for the elevator that Harry broke out of his trance.
"… stupid lifts take so long. How muggles stand it I don't know…"
There was a 'ding' and the doors slid open. Ron stepped inside and pressed the button for floor 3. His mood changed dramatically; he suddenly seemed rather proud of himself. "My dad taught me how to work it. You should have seen him, Harry, he pushed that red button there when my mum was in with him. It stopped the whole thing! Mum was upset I think, but she came around and started talking again after an hour or so… Dad said she hyperventilated a bit."
The elevator slowed to a halt, giving Harry a terrible sensation in his stomach. It was all he could do to keep what was left of his breakfast down.
Ron must have finally noticed the strange green hue of Harry's face, because his eyes got very wide and he rushed to the room.
"Bathroom's there, Harry," Ron said, pointing to the right after he unlocked the room's door. Harry ran in and shut the door behind him.
After several awkward minutes, Harry emerged looking no less green, but feeling much better.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked.
"I dunno," Ron said, shrugging. "They just come and go. Dad's probably found a new plug somewhere."
Harry got a chance to look around the room. It was fairly small, with two beds big enough for two people each. The wallpaper was bright blue, and an old ceiling fan wobbled back and forth as it spun.
"We've got two rooms," Ron explained, "Mum, Dad, and Ginny are next door. Fred and George sleep in that bed," Ron pointed to the one furthest from the door, "and I sleep in this one… with Percy." A look of utter disgust flowed over Ron's face as he sat down on the maroon comforter.
"Is Percy still working at the ministry?" Harry asked, setting himself down in one of the chairs next to the bed. Ron shook his head.
"No, Percy wasn't a senior member or anything… he was still really new, and worthless." Ron's voice began to drip with sarcasm. "I don't know [I]what[/I] the hell we're going to do without regulated cauldron thickness at a time like this." He rolled his eyes.
Harry smiled weakly, still feeling pretty nauseated. The color was still drained from his face, but he was grateful to Ron for keeping his mind off of everything.
The room fell silent as they tried to think of something to talk about. Harry stared down at his hands, examining his fingernails, which had turned an odd shade of blue. He glanced up at Ron for half a second. Harry noticed that Ron was staring right at his face in a curious sort of way, squinting a little bit with a furrowed brow, as if he was looking at something very small.
"What?" Harry asked, shifting uncomfortably. He had become quite sick of people staring at him, and didn't want his best friend to start.
"What's that under your eye?" Ron asked.
"Huh?"
"It looks like a bruise or something." Ron leaned closer to Harry to get a better look.
It was a couple of seconds before Harry suddenly realized what Ron was talking about. Harry's hand shot up to his eye, trying to hide it as he spoke.
"Oh, this…" Harry said, searching for something to say. "Uh, yeah, I got it a few days ago."
"How?"
Harry really didn't want to tell Ron what happened. He didn't want to tell anyone. He thought up a quick story.
"Um, well… you know Dudley. He was being a moron so I called him elephant man or something, I don't really remember what, and he swung at me. I don't think he really meant to hit me so hard, because he looked really surprised."
Ron shook his head. "That idiot. He's got something coming to him. I'll send him more of Fred's and George's Ton-Tongue Toffee, or something worse… that'll teach him."
'Yeah, right,' Harry thought. Ton-Tongue Toffee… that reminded him…
"Hey Ron, are the twins still making joke stuff?" Harry's mind returned to the Triwizard money he had given the twins.
"No way… we barely have enough money to buy food." Ron turned suddenly red. "Oh, and the twins told us what you gave them at the end of last year. I know you didn't put all your gold in the bank. They gave everything you gave them to the family, but you really didn't have to." It was Ron's turn to become uncomfortable.
Harry felt much better all of a sudden, knowing that he wouldn't have to lie about that gold anymore.
"It's okay Ron, really."
"But now I feel REALLY bad because you don't have any money, and we've spent all the gold." Ron looked genuinely upset, but Harry began to get suspicious.
"All of it?! You spent it all?" Harry couldn't believe that they could spend all the thousands of galleons in just a couple months.
"Well yeah, Harry. I mean, feeding seven people for two months, and there were bills to pay. Well, 400 galleons just doesn't last that long."
400 galleons? Harry couldn't believe his ears.
"How much did you say?"
"400 galleons, maybe a little bit more, I'm not sure."
Harry could tell that Ron wasn't lying—but that meant the twins were cheating gold from their own family. 'They must have put some in the bank right after they got it,' Harry thought to himself. 'There must be some reason…' He searched desperately for a logical explanation, but in the middle of his thoughts, an echo of Malfoy's taunting surfaced.
"…in the real world, people are not all good…"
"Hey, Ron!" Harry called, trying to sound casual. Ron turned around, rolling his eyes more than Harry had thought possible of a human.
"Harry, do you honestly want that bodyguard following you everywhere you go—"
"Shut up!" Harry hissed. When Ron was close enough, Harry muttered, "Look in the crowd, next to that old hag…" He secretly pointed to his right.
A pair of silvery gray eyes that Harry knew all too well was staring at the two of them. The boy attached to those eyes laughed maliciously and stepped out of the group of people, towards Harry and Ron.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to finally come out of the robe shop."
"Beat it, Malfoy," Ron growled, stepping between Harry and Draco. Although he knew Ron was just trying to help, Harry wasn't sure if confronting Draco Malfoy was a particularly wise thing to do. True, Ron was taller and less lanky than the previous year, but Malfoy had obviously taken puberty very seriously. He was far from scrawny, and, by the size of his muscles, looked like he had practiced Quidditch all summer long.
"Hey, Weasel," Malfoy spat, "I heard your dad was fired. Too bad. My dad took over his department… I guess they only kept the best half of workers at the ministry."
Ron swelled with anger. Malfoy, noticing that he had touched a major nerve, went on. "It's not that your dad isn't a hard worker, Weasley, he's just too stupid to run a department of his own." It was Harry's turn to step in… he pulled an irate Ron back. Harry was fairly certain that Malfoy wouldn't start throwing punches in the middle of a crowded street, but he wasn't so sure about Ron.
"Don't you have somewhere to be, Malfoy?" Harry asked.
Malfoy smirked. "You're right, I have to go and figure out where I'm going to spend my million galleons."
"What are you talking about? I'm still alive, you idiot," Harry laughed. "And besides, you're not even 16 yet, so you won't get anything."
"I only have two and a half more weeks until I'm 16. Nobody will kill you before then…" Malfoy narrowed his eyes, "but I know you'll be dead before Christmas holidays."
"You're not going to kill him," Ron interjected angrily.
Malfoy was silent for a moment.
"I won't have to."
"Then how can you be so sure he'll die?" Ron said. "Perhaps everyone is thinking that someone else will do it and it'll never happen. There! Problem solved!" Ron clenched his jaw. "Come on Harry, I'm leaving." Ron began to walk away quickly. Harry followed him, looking back at Malfoy.
"Weasley, you live too sheltered a life to be allowed out in public," Malfoy called after him. "Once you're out in the real world, you'll see that people are not all good. You're going to find out sooner than you think!" And with that, Malfoy turned and walked the opposite direction.
Ron didn't talk for a long time. They reached muggle London through the Leaky Cauldron, but Ron was so angry, he took several wrong turns.
Harry didn't like the silence as they walked; it gave him too much time to think—something he had managed to avoid since Voldemort had appeared. Malfoy's last words echoed in Harry's head along with Voldemort's, creating something like a deep, hissing chant that wouldn't go away.
Each step Harry took seemed to make him more dizzy. He was worth more dead than alive. The thought made him sick to his stomach. He didn't feel so hungry anymore… in fact, he felt like throwing up. He took two deep breaths, convincing himself not to do anything sickly until he reached the hotel room. His face seemed hollow—void of color or emotion. He just followed Ron, taking deep breaths and trying to blink away the dizziness from his eyes.
He was so preoccupied with everything, Harry didn't even notice walking into the hotel. It wasn't until Ron complained about the long wait for the elevator that Harry broke out of his trance.
"… stupid lifts take so long. How muggles stand it I don't know…"
There was a 'ding' and the doors slid open. Ron stepped inside and pressed the button for floor 3. His mood changed dramatically; he suddenly seemed rather proud of himself. "My dad taught me how to work it. You should have seen him, Harry, he pushed that red button there when my mum was in with him. It stopped the whole thing! Mum was upset I think, but she came around and started talking again after an hour or so… Dad said she hyperventilated a bit."
The elevator slowed to a halt, giving Harry a terrible sensation in his stomach. It was all he could do to keep what was left of his breakfast down.
Ron must have finally noticed the strange green hue of Harry's face, because his eyes got very wide and he rushed to the room.
"Bathroom's there, Harry," Ron said, pointing to the right after he unlocked the room's door. Harry ran in and shut the door behind him.
After several awkward minutes, Harry emerged looking no less green, but feeling much better.
"Where is everyone?" Harry asked.
"I dunno," Ron said, shrugging. "They just come and go. Dad's probably found a new plug somewhere."
Harry got a chance to look around the room. It was fairly small, with two beds big enough for two people each. The wallpaper was bright blue, and an old ceiling fan wobbled back and forth as it spun.
"We've got two rooms," Ron explained, "Mum, Dad, and Ginny are next door. Fred and George sleep in that bed," Ron pointed to the one furthest from the door, "and I sleep in this one… with Percy." A look of utter disgust flowed over Ron's face as he sat down on the maroon comforter.
"Is Percy still working at the ministry?" Harry asked, setting himself down in one of the chairs next to the bed. Ron shook his head.
"No, Percy wasn't a senior member or anything… he was still really new, and worthless." Ron's voice began to drip with sarcasm. "I don't know [I]what[/I] the hell we're going to do without regulated cauldron thickness at a time like this." He rolled his eyes.
Harry smiled weakly, still feeling pretty nauseated. The color was still drained from his face, but he was grateful to Ron for keeping his mind off of everything.
The room fell silent as they tried to think of something to talk about. Harry stared down at his hands, examining his fingernails, which had turned an odd shade of blue. He glanced up at Ron for half a second. Harry noticed that Ron was staring right at his face in a curious sort of way, squinting a little bit with a furrowed brow, as if he was looking at something very small.
"What?" Harry asked, shifting uncomfortably. He had become quite sick of people staring at him, and didn't want his best friend to start.
"What's that under your eye?" Ron asked.
"Huh?"
"It looks like a bruise or something." Ron leaned closer to Harry to get a better look.
It was a couple of seconds before Harry suddenly realized what Ron was talking about. Harry's hand shot up to his eye, trying to hide it as he spoke.
"Oh, this…" Harry said, searching for something to say. "Uh, yeah, I got it a few days ago."
"How?"
Harry really didn't want to tell Ron what happened. He didn't want to tell anyone. He thought up a quick story.
"Um, well… you know Dudley. He was being a moron so I called him elephant man or something, I don't really remember what, and he swung at me. I don't think he really meant to hit me so hard, because he looked really surprised."
Ron shook his head. "That idiot. He's got something coming to him. I'll send him more of Fred's and George's Ton-Tongue Toffee, or something worse… that'll teach him."
'Yeah, right,' Harry thought. Ton-Tongue Toffee… that reminded him…
"Hey Ron, are the twins still making joke stuff?" Harry's mind returned to the Triwizard money he had given the twins.
"No way… we barely have enough money to buy food." Ron turned suddenly red. "Oh, and the twins told us what you gave them at the end of last year. I know you didn't put all your gold in the bank. They gave everything you gave them to the family, but you really didn't have to." It was Ron's turn to become uncomfortable.
Harry felt much better all of a sudden, knowing that he wouldn't have to lie about that gold anymore.
"It's okay Ron, really."
"But now I feel REALLY bad because you don't have any money, and we've spent all the gold." Ron looked genuinely upset, but Harry began to get suspicious.
"All of it?! You spent it all?" Harry couldn't believe that they could spend all the thousands of galleons in just a couple months.
"Well yeah, Harry. I mean, feeding seven people for two months, and there were bills to pay. Well, 400 galleons just doesn't last that long."
400 galleons? Harry couldn't believe his ears.
"How much did you say?"
"400 galleons, maybe a little bit more, I'm not sure."
Harry could tell that Ron wasn't lying—but that meant the twins were cheating gold from their own family. 'They must have put some in the bank right after they got it,' Harry thought to himself. 'There must be some reason…' He searched desperately for a logical explanation, but in the middle of his thoughts, an echo of Malfoy's taunting surfaced.
"…in the real world, people are not all good…"