Harry and Hermione made their way down to the Tom's table, asking him for
some sandwiches. He brought them out wordlessly and Harry paid for them
with the money in his pocket. Hermione unwrapped hers and took a bite on
the way back to the steps.
"Hang on," Harry said, touching her arm and stepping away from a crowd of people. She followed him, her curious brown eyes searching him as she swallowed her food.
"What?"
"You know I didn't mean to do that. right?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Making you unsafe, I-I mean. . ." He didn't understand why this was so difficult to say. He felt like he'd eaten a Ton Tongue Toffee, the way he was stammering. Either Hermione didn't notice or she ignored it as she let a miniscule smile touch her lips.
"It's okay, really. I'd feel a lot safer somewhere hidden anyway." She sighed. "I was afraid that group of people might come after me for information about you. Anyway, Sirius' original plan didn't sound that great."
Harry felt better, knowing that Hermione wasn't upset with him, but wished he could say the same about Sirius (Harry imagined he was still pacing bitterly in the room upstairs). He hoped that the easing of their hunger would soften nerves somewhat, at least until they were safe. The last thing he needed was for someone to be mad at him.
Harry tried to linger in the main part of The Leaky Cauldron as long as possible to delay being with Sirius again, but Hermione urged him to follow her back up to his room.
"Even after being in the gang for a day," Hermione said quietly in the stairwell, "I don't know who might be watching us now. People join almost hourly."
Possessing the knowledge that the group of people plotting your murder is growing hourly doesn't do much for your confidence; Harry decided this as he made awkward eye contact with a man coming down the stairs. Opening the door for Hermione when they reached his room, Harry found himself looking over his shoulder as he closed it.
Sirius ate his sandwich quickly and silently as Harry packed his things into the trunk. He shut Hedwig into her cage and handed it to Hermione, feeling Sirius' pressing gaze the entire time.
"I'm ready," Harry announced, turning to Sirius. His godfather's stare faltered momentarily. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Sirius said shortly, helping Harry load his trunk onto a wheeled cart. "Just follow me and you'll know what to do." Sirius sighed, and morphed into his dog form. Hermione shifted Hedwig's cage to her other hip and opened the door for Sirius and Harry.
After making sure that Tom wasn't paying attention to the front doors, Sirius trotted down the stairs and to the door, waiting as Harry maneuvered his cart down the staircase. Wheeling the half-broken cart down the steps proved to be more difficult then Harry thought. He tried to hold the railing to keep his own balance, but needed both hands on the cart to keep it from flipping forward and down the stairs. He felt the right wheel snag on something so he grasped the cart tightly, trying to keep it upright as the left wheel progressed in front of the other.
The cart and Harry almost took a fearful plunge down the steep stairs; Hermione gracelessly helped him keep balance with her free hand while the other wrapped around Hedwig's cage. Hedwig began to screech fearfully, attracting the attention of everyone in the pub. The crowd stopped talking and eating, a few witches whispered nervously to each other.
Surrounded by odd, staring silence, Harry continued down the stairs. If it wasn't enough that everyone was watching his clumsy struggle, his trunk popped open somehow as he reached the bottom, spilling a few of his belongings. Everyone watched awkwardly, as if they were each waiting for another person to help Harry clean up the small mess.
'Never mind,' Harry thought to himself sarcastically, gathering up his quills and parchment, tossing them carelessly into his open trunk. 'I don't need help anyway.'
"All right there, Mr. Potter?" a haughty voice inquired. Harry looked up at the unsympathetic face of Cornelius Fudge.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled. For a moment, he remained kneeled and didn't move, thinking that Fudge was going to reach down and pick up the broom clippers for him. Fudge just stood there and stared down at Harry, waiting for him to finish. Harry rolled his eyes, retrieving the clippers which were inches from Fudge's shiny new shoes.
They were very nice shoes, Harry thought as he put the clippers back. He looked down to have another look. Very nice. 'What are they made out of?' he wondered to himself. The material was somehow the darkest of black and the oddest of yellows at the same time.
"Do you like them?" Fudge asked, noting Harry's stare. "Brand new. Express owl from France got them here in two hours."
Harry's heart began to beat quickly. He straightened up and swallowed dryly, knowing the importance of the question forming in his head. "How.." Harry said slowly and carefully. "How much did they cost?"
Fudge's political, fake smile remained constant, but for a fleeting moment, something changed in his eyes that reminded Harry of Petunia when she used to tell him to not ask questions.
"Oh, I don't remember," Fudge answered.
"Really?" Harry said steadily. "Well, where did you get the money? Because unless you've captured Voldemort, there's nothing left to spend."
A handful of people who were close enough to hear Harry fearfully whispered to each other.
Fudge's smile grew wholly artificial as he said, "You-Know-Who, Harry, is on the verge of being captured. Surely you know that swarms of volunteers have joined the Ministry today to ensure your safety and the well-being of our continent." Harry eyed Fudge's shoes again.
"It is proof of my faith in these volunteers," Fudge continued, "that I go on with my routine normally. I am showing my trust in them by using the money I know they will return to me."
There was a long silence.
Harry felt someone tugging at his arm. Hermione was motioning to the door where Sirius stood. Harry turned and stared Fudge with abhorrence, and then closed his trunk and locked it.
"Goodbye, Harry," Cornelius called after them. "And don't worry, everything is going to be fine."
"Hang on," Harry said, touching her arm and stepping away from a crowd of people. She followed him, her curious brown eyes searching him as she swallowed her food.
"What?"
"You know I didn't mean to do that. right?" Harry asked hesitantly. "Making you unsafe, I-I mean. . ." He didn't understand why this was so difficult to say. He felt like he'd eaten a Ton Tongue Toffee, the way he was stammering. Either Hermione didn't notice or she ignored it as she let a miniscule smile touch her lips.
"It's okay, really. I'd feel a lot safer somewhere hidden anyway." She sighed. "I was afraid that group of people might come after me for information about you. Anyway, Sirius' original plan didn't sound that great."
Harry felt better, knowing that Hermione wasn't upset with him, but wished he could say the same about Sirius (Harry imagined he was still pacing bitterly in the room upstairs). He hoped that the easing of their hunger would soften nerves somewhat, at least until they were safe. The last thing he needed was for someone to be mad at him.
Harry tried to linger in the main part of The Leaky Cauldron as long as possible to delay being with Sirius again, but Hermione urged him to follow her back up to his room.
"Even after being in the gang for a day," Hermione said quietly in the stairwell, "I don't know who might be watching us now. People join almost hourly."
Possessing the knowledge that the group of people plotting your murder is growing hourly doesn't do much for your confidence; Harry decided this as he made awkward eye contact with a man coming down the stairs. Opening the door for Hermione when they reached his room, Harry found himself looking over his shoulder as he closed it.
Sirius ate his sandwich quickly and silently as Harry packed his things into the trunk. He shut Hedwig into her cage and handed it to Hermione, feeling Sirius' pressing gaze the entire time.
"I'm ready," Harry announced, turning to Sirius. His godfather's stare faltered momentarily. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see," Sirius said shortly, helping Harry load his trunk onto a wheeled cart. "Just follow me and you'll know what to do." Sirius sighed, and morphed into his dog form. Hermione shifted Hedwig's cage to her other hip and opened the door for Sirius and Harry.
After making sure that Tom wasn't paying attention to the front doors, Sirius trotted down the stairs and to the door, waiting as Harry maneuvered his cart down the staircase. Wheeling the half-broken cart down the steps proved to be more difficult then Harry thought. He tried to hold the railing to keep his own balance, but needed both hands on the cart to keep it from flipping forward and down the stairs. He felt the right wheel snag on something so he grasped the cart tightly, trying to keep it upright as the left wheel progressed in front of the other.
The cart and Harry almost took a fearful plunge down the steep stairs; Hermione gracelessly helped him keep balance with her free hand while the other wrapped around Hedwig's cage. Hedwig began to screech fearfully, attracting the attention of everyone in the pub. The crowd stopped talking and eating, a few witches whispered nervously to each other.
Surrounded by odd, staring silence, Harry continued down the stairs. If it wasn't enough that everyone was watching his clumsy struggle, his trunk popped open somehow as he reached the bottom, spilling a few of his belongings. Everyone watched awkwardly, as if they were each waiting for another person to help Harry clean up the small mess.
'Never mind,' Harry thought to himself sarcastically, gathering up his quills and parchment, tossing them carelessly into his open trunk. 'I don't need help anyway.'
"All right there, Mr. Potter?" a haughty voice inquired. Harry looked up at the unsympathetic face of Cornelius Fudge.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled. For a moment, he remained kneeled and didn't move, thinking that Fudge was going to reach down and pick up the broom clippers for him. Fudge just stood there and stared down at Harry, waiting for him to finish. Harry rolled his eyes, retrieving the clippers which were inches from Fudge's shiny new shoes.
They were very nice shoes, Harry thought as he put the clippers back. He looked down to have another look. Very nice. 'What are they made out of?' he wondered to himself. The material was somehow the darkest of black and the oddest of yellows at the same time.
"Do you like them?" Fudge asked, noting Harry's stare. "Brand new. Express owl from France got them here in two hours."
Harry's heart began to beat quickly. He straightened up and swallowed dryly, knowing the importance of the question forming in his head. "How.." Harry said slowly and carefully. "How much did they cost?"
Fudge's political, fake smile remained constant, but for a fleeting moment, something changed in his eyes that reminded Harry of Petunia when she used to tell him to not ask questions.
"Oh, I don't remember," Fudge answered.
"Really?" Harry said steadily. "Well, where did you get the money? Because unless you've captured Voldemort, there's nothing left to spend."
A handful of people who were close enough to hear Harry fearfully whispered to each other.
Fudge's smile grew wholly artificial as he said, "You-Know-Who, Harry, is on the verge of being captured. Surely you know that swarms of volunteers have joined the Ministry today to ensure your safety and the well-being of our continent." Harry eyed Fudge's shoes again.
"It is proof of my faith in these volunteers," Fudge continued, "that I go on with my routine normally. I am showing my trust in them by using the money I know they will return to me."
There was a long silence.
Harry felt someone tugging at his arm. Hermione was motioning to the door where Sirius stood. Harry turned and stared Fudge with abhorrence, and then closed his trunk and locked it.
"Goodbye, Harry," Cornelius called after them. "And don't worry, everything is going to be fine."