And so life, at Privet Drive, continued as normal. While at first this fact disconcerted Harry, the longer it went on, the less it felt wrong. The less he missed about Hogwarts, about magic. He especially didn't mind the fact that Voldermort and the events at the Ministry of Magic seemed like a lifetime ago now. He didn't miss the fact that the memories of that time were fading; that when he tried to remember getting on the Thestrals, or arriving at the Ministry, or trying to find the mysterious corridor it all seemed like they happened to someone else, almost like someone had told him a story once, rather than he himself having lived through it. Even the pain of Sirius's death seemed to have diminished; the action of time dulling both the pain and the memories. Some part of Harry felt guilty about that fact; that the memories he had of Sirius could, less than a month after his death, be at best described as hazy. But he didn't miss the pain, the hurt inside that had at times felt like someone had pulled his heart out of his chest and was busy jumping on it. He didn't mind that the pain had faded to a dull ache now, a pain that he could live with. If he thought this was at all strange, then the haziness of his memory helped him forget about it.
But the biggest change quite easily had to be in the Dursleys! It was like, for the first time in his whole life, he had a proper home life. Even the memories of his childhood, when they had done everything in their power to make his life miserable seemed to have happened to another child. He was happier at the Dursley's than he had ever been before. And it didn't even unnerve him. He had spent his whole life looking for a family. And here were the Dursleys, finally taking that place. They talked to him like they did to Dudley. They fed him proper meals, allowed him to watch TV with them; even put a TV into his room like the one Dudley had in his.
Instead of stalking him around the park, waiting for a chance to attack him, Dudley was even being nice to him, allowing him access to his extensive computer game and DVD collection. Harry found himself having long conversations with Dudley about football teams, remembering someone he had once known had supported West Ham, a team Dudley summarily dismissed as rubbish. It was fascinating, like learning a new sport all over again. Dudley even went as far as to introduce him to his friends. They, however, clearly didn't like Harry one bit, going on and on about some place called St Brutus school for criminally insane boys or something. How was he to know what it was like to attend such a place when he'd never heard of it before? Dudley obviously saw his discomfort because he told the boys to shut it, and then pulled Harry away, much to the surprise of the boys in the group it seemed.
When they finally got back to Privet Drive, Dudley looked very pale. 'What's up, Dudley?'
'Oh, nothing.' Dudley, if anything, looked even more nervous now, looking around, behind him, as if he was scared that something was about to attack him from behind.
Harry, feeling his nervousness, looked over his shoulder too, wondering what he was meant to be looking for. It wasn't like Dudley had any enemies that he was aware of. Dudley was far too intimidating for that. Finally Dudley found his key, getting the door open and ushering Harry inside.
'Mum! Dad!' Dudley yelled. Harry looked at him in surprise. It was a given that there was no yelling in the house. Aunt Petunia was going to have her nut at him.
'What? What is it?' Uncle Vernon asked, poking his head out of the lounge.
'Uh.' Dudley started, very eloquently, gesturing at Harry not so subtlety with his head.
'Well, Dudley?' Vernon asked, getting impatient now. He never had had much patience, Harry thought. Although for some reason it seemed strange that his impatience was directed at Dudley. For some reason it felt like it should be directed at him.
Dudley again gestured at Harry, this time with both his head and his thumb, and said in a rather loud whisper. 'They were asking about him.'
Harry, who was completely lost, now, over what was wrong with Dudley was surprised to see a look of comprehension dawn on Uncle Vernon's face. 'Harry, why don't you go and start setting the table? It's almost dinner time.'
Harry looked once more between Dudley, who still looked pale, and Uncle Vernon, who was trying to encourage him out of the hallway. 'That's right, we'll be right there, Harry.' He said, seeing Harry to the kitchen, and closing the door firmly on him.
Harry put his ear to the door, trying to hear any words said between the two, but on hearing only silence, withdrew and started reluctantly to do as he'd been asked and lay the table. He was only confused further when he sat down to the dinner with the Dursleys, to everyone pretending nothing was wrong. Harry was desperate to ask questions. What was going on? Where was St Brutus and why did the boy think he went there? But something about the Dursley's, and especially Uncle Vernon's body language stopped the questions dead on his lips.
Ginny watched Ron pace with a grin of amusement. It was late morning, and Ron had spent almost all the time since breakfast looking between his watch and the fireplace, that Hermione wasn't actually due to arrive via till midday. She was happy Hermione was coming; they were good friends and Ginny was looking forward to hearing about the older girls holiday in Spain. They'd had one postcode, delivered by a very bemused muggle postman, who clearly found the fact that the house was still standing one of amazement. The picture, unmoving, which was always a novelty, showed a donkey with a straw hat, with "wish you were here" scrawled across the corner.
The note had been short, to the point, mostly about the weather, and the fact that there was a local wizarding community Hermione was planning to visit. Even so, Ron, Ginny was sure, slept with the postcard under his pillow considering she hadn't seen it since, even though it had been addressed to the both of them.
Ginny stifled a giggle as Ron made a sharp turn, stumbling slightly on the edge of the thick rug. Ron stopped and glared at her. 'What's so funny?' he demanded.
Ginny couldn't stifle it anymore and laughed out loud, not helped by the fact that it just made Ron glare more. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' Ginny eventually managed to splutter, finally pulling herself together, 'it's just you've been pacing all morning, even though Hermione's not due till midday, and you keep muttering to yourself while you walk.'
Ron was not only muttering now, but had turned bright red. 'I just want to see Harry, is all. Goodness knows what those muggles are up to.'
'Yeah, that's all.' Ginny drawled.
'Anyway, I'd thought you'd be anxious to hear about how lover boy's getting on.' Ron commented, finally taking a seat in the armchair to the side of the couch Ginny was sitting on.
Ginny refused to rise to the bait, ignoring the rib over her old crush on Harry. It no longer bothered her when people joked about him. She couldn't quite say that he no longer bothered her, but that was what she was aiming for. She was a firm friend now, able to talk to him without turning scarlet, without a single stutter. Hermione's advice on getting on with her life, even dating other boys had helped her get over the crippling nature of her crush, even if she didn't think she'd ever truly be over him. Especially when Harry had started to show more of an interest in her, even if it was only in the platonic sense, over the last school year. She was saved from having to answer by a brief flare from the fireplace, and Hermione stepping carefully through. 'You're here!' Ron yelled happily, standing up and grabbing Hermione in a hug before letting go and blushing again at his own exuberance.
'Hey Ron, Ginny.' Hermione said, her own grin firmly in place, stooping down to give Ginny a hug also.
They small talked for a moment, about Hermione's holiday, her tan which Ginny gave a long admiring glance at, before looking at her own pasty white skin that refused to do anything but burn in the sun, before Hermione asked how Harry was.
Ron shrugged. 'He's sending the letters to the Order as instructed, every three days like clockwork, but they might as well be stamped to the variance in them.'
'Let me guess: "I'm fine, Dursley's fine, when can I come there?"' Hermione guessed.
'All apart from the last bit. He stopped asking when he could come after he never got an answer. Mum keeps badgering Dumbledore about it.'
'At least they're letting us visit him.' Hermione commented. 'When are we going?'
'This afternoon if you're up for it.'
'Of course.'
'Mum's already put together a whole hamper of food.' Ron said, standing up and dragging Hermione up off the sofa by the hand. Ron continued talking to Hermione as they walked up the stairs of the Burrow, leaving Ginny sitting alone on the sofa, listening to their receding voices. 'Guess I'm not invited, then.' She said bitterly to the empty room.
'What was that dear?' Mrs Weasley asked, bustling in from the kitchen.
'Nothing, mum.'
'Did I just hear Hermione? Where's Ron? I've got that food package for them to take.'
Ginny groaned as she buried her head into the sofa cushion.
Harry looked around, satisfied at his now tidy room. It had taken him the best part of the afternoon to get it all straightened up, enough to satisfy even Aunt Petunia's distinctive eye. Even Hedwig had a tidy cage, much to her discernment considering Harry had chucked out the dead mouse she'd brought back from the hunt with her sometime during the night. She'd been glaring at him ever since, and kept pecking at his ears whenever he stood still enough for her to land on him.
The reason for his mass tidy was lying neatly folded on his desk. Hedwig had delivered the parchment just that morning. It was from Ron, scrawled very quickly if the amount of ink blotches was anything to go by.
H, it had started, be ready by 3. Will have guest in tow. Don't let the muggles get you down. R
Either his luck was turning, and he'd be out of here at 3, or more likely, Dumbledore was actually taking note of some of the things he'd said during the turbulent past year, and was sending Ron and Hermione along to appease him. Harry had an inkling it was the latter, and seeing as however much the Dursleys seemed to be trying to actually get along with him, he didn't think they'd tolerate two school friends of his wandering the house. Hence his now tidy room. Hermione, after all, had never visited before, and she didn't need to know his room was normally a hovel.
He looked at his watch, before remembering that it still didn't work, and he still hadn't replaced it and looked at his alarm clock. It was just after two, Harry saw, before ducking quickly to avoid another attack from Hedwig. 'Go out and hunt if you're that bothered!' Harry said to her, chuckling. Hedwig landed on her perch and turned her back on him, obviously in a mood now.
Harry laughed as he started down stairs to go and rustle up some snacks. He had the house to himself; Uncle Vernon was at work, Aunt Petunia was out shopping, and Dudley was probably terrorising some little kids in the park.
He got to the bottom of the stairs, and stopped. What had he come downstairs for again? However much he racked his brain, he couldn't for the life of him remember what he had been coming to get. He looked around, searching for any clue from his completely blank brain, before giving up and wandering into the lounge to watch some TV.
An hour later and he was staring in shock at Ron and Hermione, standing on his doorstep, as his two separate lives collided on his doorstep. 'Ron! Hermione! What are you doing here?'
Hermione grinned at him, stepping forward and giving him a brief hug. 'Hi Harry!'
Ron, though, was frowning in thought. 'Didn't you get my note?'
'What note?' Harry asked, sweeping them inside with a habitual glance behind them at the quiet street beyond.
Ron shook his head. 'Doesn't matter. We weren't meant to warn you anyway. Just thought it would give you something to look forward to. Should have given Hedwig more time to deliver it.'
Harry turned to Ron, a confused look on his face now. 'But Hedwig's upstairs.' He said. But he didn't give Ron a chance to comment on this as he carried on, a gross look on his face now. 'Never guess what she brought back from her hunt last night- a dead mouse! I had to clear it out this morning.'
He led them upstairs, missing the confused looks Ron and Hermione shared behind him as they followed him up. 'Anyway, what are you doing here?' He asked, again not giving them a chance to answer as he carried on talking, more than Ron and Hermione had heard him talk all in one go before. 'Lucky I cleaned my room today- didn't realise I'd be having visitors. You timed it well, though; all the Dursleys are out at the moment, so you don't have to worry about them seeing you.'
Ron managed to interrupt then. 'How are they treating you?'
'Who?'
'…The Dursleys.' Ron asked, wondering what they were missing. Or what Harry was missing. He glanced over at Hermione who looked equally perplexed.
'Oh them. They're fine. They're even talking to me.'
'Wow- that's progress.' Hermione said approvingly. 'That warning from Moody must have done some good.'
Harry didn't answer, but Hermione caught a slightly puzzled look on his face before he smiled at her suddenly. He opened the door to his room with a flourish- 'welcome to my humble abode.' He said with a bow, ushering them inside. Ron grinned at Harry's obvious good humour, whilst Hermione watched Harry closely, wondering what had become of the angry man from last year. It was such a sudden turn around from what they had put up with. Ron, obviously, was just glad for the change, chatting away animatedly with Harry about Quidditch, or something, but Hermione was feeling uneasy. She had been expecting Harry to be grieving for his Godfather. To perhaps be even worse than he had been last year, given the events at the Ministry. It was such a sudden change in personality. While the boys chatted, Hermione wandered the room, convincing Hedwig to turn around so that she could stroke her soft plume, before stopping by Harry's desk, not surprised by the absence of anything even faintly to do with school work. She looked down at the piece of parchment, rolled up on the desk, no name on the front. Hermione wondered who was writing to Harry if he hadn't got Ron's letter. Everyone connected to the Order, after all, was under strict instruction not to, due to the risk of it being intercepted en route, or worse, being followed to it's destination.
Hermione looked up from where she was looking out of the window, aware of silence now filling the room. She looked back at the two boys, who were watching her with amused looks on their faces.
'Does it meet with Madame's approval?' Harry asked in a very bad French accent.
'Not quite Madam Maxine, mate.' Ron said, looking at Hermione who had turned a critical eye on the room, both of them missing the momentary confused look on Harry's face.
'I was going for Poirot.' He muttured, looking at Hermione. He suddenly felt in a bad mood, but he couldn't explain what had suddenly annoyed him, or why. 'I know, not exactly The Ritz.' He said to Hermione, who was about to make, what she considered anyway, an amusing comment. The bitter tone to Harry's words stung momentarily, although seeing as this was more like what they'd have to put up with last year, she was well practiced in ignoring Harry's mood. It even made her feel better, the uneasy feeling dissipating.
'It's better than it was, mate.' Ron answered. 'You've even got one of those box thingies that muggles watch now.'
'Television.' Hermione supplied absently, watching Harry.
'But I've always had a TV.' Harry said, looking over at the TV on a wall stand in the corner, complete with DVD player, wondering why Ron would think this was something new.
'Oh…really?' Ron asked, looking at it critically himself. 'I don't remember it being there.'
'Anyway, you two should be going. Aunt Petunia will be back soon, and I don't want her to catch you here.'
'Don't worry about it, mate. The Order will have something to say if they try anything.' Ron said, not looking like he was even thinking of moving.
'No, Ron. I don't want to provoke them anymore than I have to. I don't need them on my back for the rest of the holidays- I've just got them being civilised with me.'
'Come on, Ron.' Hermione agreed, pulling a reluctant Ron up by the hand. 'Harry has to live with them, after all.'
Harry nodded his thanks to Hermione for being sensible.
They got to the front door, which Harry opened, looking around nervously at the street. 'Well, goodbye then.' He said to them both, his body language suddenly stiff, cold to them.
'Yeah…you never know, maybe we'll see you again before the summers out- we'll work on Dumbledore for you.' Ron told him, not seeming to notice the sudden change that had come over Harry.
'Bye Harry.' Hermione said, wanting to hug him goodbye, but noticing the change in him enough to not bother. 'Hope we get to see you again real soon. We'll send over something good for your birthday, at least.'
'Bye.' Was all the answer she got, as Harry made it quite clear they needed to be going now. Ron and Hermione wandered slowly up the street, the door to Number 4 Privet Drive firmly closed.
'Well that was rather…abrupt.' Hermione commented as they walked to Mrs Figg's house, from where they could floo back to the Burrow.
'The muggles are obviously due back.' Ron said. 'Well, mum will be glad- she was worried they'd be starving him or something. He seems alright, doesn't he?'
Hermione didn't answer straight away, as Mrs Figg greeted them, offering them tea and cake which they politely declined before they flooed, one after the other, to the Burrow. Hermione looked around, and seeing they were quite alone in the lounge, carried on as if they hadn't been interrupted. 'You don't think that Harry was…too happy?' She asked, looking down on Ron who had taken a seat on the squashy sofa.
'Too happy? Hermione, he's been a miserable sod all year, give him a break.'
'Exactly, Ron.' Hermione said, quietly, as she sat down next to him on the sofa. 'He spends all year being miserable, then watches Sirius die, and suddenly he's happy? That's not right.'
'What are you saying, Hermione?' Ron asked, watching her intently now.
Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. 'I don't know. It's just, something doesn't feel right.'
'Maybe he was just, you know, covering it up.'
'Covering it rather well.' Hermione commented. 'Although…he did seem more like himself by the end- you know, when he chucked us out.'
'See, it was all just an act. He probably wanted us to enjoy the visit, not be down in the dumps about it. It is the first time you've visited him, after all.'
'Yeah, but…' Hermione trailed off. What Ron was saying made sense, but she couldn't get over the feeling that something was wrong with the whole situation.
'Look, Hermione,' Ron said, laying a hand over Hermione's, 'we would know if something was terribly wrong- Harry would have let us, or the Order, know by now. And I'm sure Dumbledore is monitoring him as well.'
Hermione was still looking slightly sceptical, despite Ron mentioning their esteemed headmaster's name. 'But-'
'We'll visit him, again, ok? We'll talk to mum after dinner- she seems to know how to approach Dumbledore. We'll keep an eye on him. But you know he's safe there from, you know, You Know Who.' He hissed the last part.
Hermione wanted to protest further, but was interrupted by a raucous cry from the kitchen, and the twins running into the lounge.
'Ah, look Fred.' George said in a stage whisper. 'The luuurve birds are here.'
'Knock it off.' Ron growled, snatching his hand from Hermione's even though the twins couldn't possibly see from where they were standing where he had had his hand. Even if they couldn't, the colour Ron was currently turning clued them in pretty quickly.
'Oh, are Ron and Hermione back?' Whatever teasing they were about to get down to, though, was interrupted by Mrs Weasley bustling in. 'I didn't hear you floo. How's Harry?'
Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. 'Ok.' Ron finally said. 'Looks like the Muggles are treating him better, anyway.'
'So I should think so! Poor love.' Mrs Weasley tutted, wiping some imaginary dust from a sideboard. 'Well, the sooner we get him away from them the better. The things that happened at the Ministry! And losing Sirius like that. I can't imagine how he's coping.'
'He seems to be doing fine.' Ron said truthfully, with a shrug.
'That's what Harry will always try and have you believe.' Fred commented.
Hermione smiled at that. That was certainly true. In the middle of the Weasley's, the uneasy feeling was going quickly. Harry was just covering. As soon as they got back to Hogwarts, everything would go back to normal. Although, if Harry returned without the temper he had had last year, Hermione would not be complaining.
'Now, Hermione, I presume you'll be staying for dinner?' Mrs Weasley didn't wait for her to agree, before turning to Fred and George, telling them to go and set the table, as she called upstairs for Ginny.
After dinner, Ginny sought out Hermione, who was watching Ron and Mr Weasley play a fast moving game of Wizard's Chess. She sunk down into the chair next to her, breaking Hermione's concentration from the game. 'So, how was he really?' Ginny asked.
Hermione shrugged. 'What Ron was saying was true-' Ron had filled his dad in at dinner about their visit to Harry. 'He really seemed okay.'
'But you don't think he was.' Ginny said quietly, perceptively.
Hermione paused for a moment before shaking her head slightly. 'I don't think it will ever be that easy. He spent all of last year flying off the handle at the slightest thing, and suddenly, being back at the Dursley's is the best thing? Something doesn't make sense.'
'Perhaps he is just trying to make the best out of a bad situation.' Ginny suggested.
'Or more likely, knowing Harry, covering up what he really feels, hiding it from us.' Hermione said. Now that she was talking about it again, thinking over that strange afternoon, the uneasy feeling returned with a vengeance.
'You know what really got to me, though?' Hermione continued. 'Right at the end, there was such an abrupt change in his attitude. I got used to him flying off the handle at everything last year, but this was completely different- it was as if …' She trailed off. 'I can't describe it.' She finished lamely.
Ginny was staring at her, and Hermione looked around to meet her eye. 'You were going to say it was as if he was under the Imperius.' Ginny finished for her, eyes wide.
Hermione shook her head. 'Harry can throw off the Imperius- he did it in our forth year. No, this was something different, something much more…subtle.'
'What are we going to do about it?'
'I don't know what we can do about it at the moment. The only thing I can think of is to talk to Dumbledore, but I don't know exactly how I'm going to achieve that.'
'He's due here tomorrow night- the Order is meeting here. I heard Mum and Dad talking about it.' Ginny told her quietly.
'Think you can invite me around for dinner?'
'No problem. Do you think Dumbledore will do anything?'
Hermione could only shrug at this. 'Who knows? There has to be a reason why Harry has to spend the summer at the Dursley's, I know that much. But hopefully, we can at least convince him to let us visit again.'
Ginny was about to comment that it would be nice to see Harry, but Hermione's attention had shifted to her brother, who had finished the game of chess by now, narrowly beating his father. Hermione was whispering to Ron, filling him in of her plan to convince Dumbledore. Ron even quickly asked his mother if Hermione could come over the next night so that they could work on some schoolwork together. His mother, predictably on the mention of homework and actually doing it, agreed straight away, even inviting Hermione over for dinner. Hermione grinned triumphantly at Ginny. Ginny managed a small strained smile in return. Not that anyone noticed. Hermione and Ron were already discussing how they could get Dumbledore to agree to them seeing Harry again.
It turned out to be slightly simpler than either Ron or Hermione were expecting. Hermione had barely started in on voicing her concerns when Dumbledore had jump started the pleas, and told them they could visit in three days time.
Hermione had been gearing up all day, practicing her speech so that it flowed naturally through all the points of their concerns, keeping her tone objective as possible, before ending that it would be in Harry's best interests for them to visit again soon. Having this all pre-empted by Dumbledore agreeing before she'd even got past the first point left her staring rather unattractively at their headmaster. Ginny had to cough back a giggle. Hermione snapped her mouth closed abruptly, sitting back on her chair in the Burrow kitchen, frowning at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore looked back at her evenly. 'You are wondering why I have agreed so quickly?' He asked his voice tinged with amusement.
'I did think you would take more persuading.' Hermione grudgingly agreed.
'I may be old, Miss Granger, but I have tried to learn from past experiences. Shutting Harry away for the summer as if he is being punished for something is not how I want to treat him. You are his friends, and I fear in the coming days he will need all of you more than ever.'
'I hope they are not bothering you, Professor Dumbledore.' Mrs Weasley interrupted their conversation, bustling into the kitchen.
'Not at all, Molly, not at all.'
'Good.' Mrs Weasley fixed the children with a pointed stare. 'Come on children, it's almost time for the meeting.'
However much they bristled about being called children, Mrs Weasley successfully shooed them from the downstairs of the Burrow. They headed off to Ron's room, Hermione true to Ron's word at least, lugging a huge tomb of a book up the stairs with her. Ginny smiled at Ron's complaints, joining them in his bedroom, her own homework spread around her, listening with half an ear to the usual argumentative banter between the two. When they would stop with the verbal foreplay, and just get on with the snogging, Ginny had a long running bet with her other brothers about. She was down for the next Yule Ball. Because not even Ron was dense enough to not invite Hermione straight away after what had happened. Then again…she took an appraising look at her brother, who was trying to make Hermione laugh by tickling her under the nose with his quill…this was Ron they were talking about. Fred and George had wanted to take the betting one step further, and get a location bet going as well. Fred was all for the library, Hermione's favourite dwelling place. George had disagreed, saying it would be in the common room, in front of everyone. They'd ended up having quite the fascinating conversation on where was the best place to hide in Hogwarts. Ginny had certainly paid attention to that, because even with how well she thought she knew the castle, there were still a few goodies thrown out by the twins, and Bill, who had been there to appease Mrs Weasley's pleas for him to visit more often. Ginny was going to see the castle in a whole different light when she got back there in September. Now, if only she could encourage Harry to get a clue and join her, her life would be complete.
She must have sighed out loud, because when she looked up at the sudden silence, she found Ron and Hermione looking at her with questioning look. 'What's the sigh for, Ginny? Do you need help with the essay? What are you working on?'
Ginny looked down at the essay she was meant to be writing for History of Magic, realising that she hadn't written so much as a word in the last ten minutes, and she'd managed to drip ink from her quill right in the middle of the piece of parchment. 'The Goblins had cause to rebel in 1576-discuss.' Ginny read off her essay title.
'What have you managed to find out so far?' Hermione asked, looking interested.
'That this is really boring?' Ginny suggested, to Ron's obvious amusement.
'What?' Hermione asked, sounding scandalised. 'The Goblin rebellions are fascinating.'
'Only to you, Hermione. Only to you.' Ron said, patting her on the shoulder. 'What does the Phillick shrub do again?' He added, looking at his own essay, not giving Hermione any time to think over what Ron had just said about her.
Ginny flashed her brother a grateful look. Maybe he wasn't as thick as he tried to make out to be. Then again… 'What are you guys working on? You haven't even got your OWLs, yet.' Ginny asked, curiously, referring to the Ordinary Wizarding Level exams that Ron and Hermione, along with Harry had taken at the end of the last year. They would be moving onto the NEWTs (Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests) in September, and until they had the results of the OWLs, the classes they could take were unknown to a certain degree. (unless you were Hermione and could therefore guarantee Outstandings in every subject) And they certainly wouldn't have been set any homework for them.
Ron smiled knowingly at her. 'Who said we were doing homework?'
'That's what you told mum, yesterday.'
'No, I said we were doing school work.' Ron said, cryptically.
He got a slap round the arm from Hermione for his troubles. 'Stop being such a prat. We're working on some things for the DA.'
Ginny looked surprised at this. 'You think it'll carry on, even though Umbridge will be gone? There won't be much need, will there?'
'Well, hopefully the Defence Against the Dark Arts will be better taught this year.' Hermione said with a sniff, as if she was taking the poor teaching standards set by Umbridge last year as a personal insult. Which she probably was, Ginny mused. 'However, there's always going to be room for extra lessons. Especially with Voldemort growing in strength all the time. Hopefully, at least, this year it can be an official school club.'
'Have you discussed this with Harry, yet?' Ginny wanted to know.
'Not yet. Haven't had much chance to.' Ron said. 'But I'm sure he'll see the necessity of this at the moment. He would be the first to encourage people to learn how to defend themselves.'
Ginny knew he had a point. She looked over their work, as Hermione explained what lessons they had been creating up. They were certainly creative in what they had been doing, and Ginny learned quite a lot from both Hermione and Ron that evening about methods of defence.
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