Chapter 27

The last week of July was rather chaotic, even by Weasley standards. Members of the Order seemed to be popping out of the woodwork and for the first time, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were not excluded from all the conversations. Of course that was due in large part to the fact that the mission being planned, while secret, was partially their idea. Ron and Hermione, in particular, had an inside edge and the information they provided was invaluable. No one knew the target better than they did, which ensured most of the preliminary plans were run by them at some point, so they could predict his reaction.

Unlike the others, they had no illusions about how Harry was going to react to his surprise birthday party. He was going to detest it. If there was one thing he hated, it was being fussed over. But no matter how many times Ron told his mother this, she just didn't seem to get it. Despite all their efforts, she took the simple family get together they'd suggested and turned it into a three-ring circus, complete with identical clowns.

The twins, Ron expected. They were Harry's friends and family. It was the rest of the guest list he objected to. The members of the Order that Harry barely even knew who would be there for 'security reasons'. How was Harry supposed to relax and enjoy himself with a bunch of wizards stalking about Mrs. Figg's house as if they expected it to be attacked at any moment?

Happy Birthday, Harry. Have some cake. Mum made it chocolate, just in case we all get attacked by Dementors. But then, you like chocolate, don't you? Yeah, Harry is really going to enjoy his party, Ron thought, as he glanced over at his mother who was deep in conversation with Mundungus Fletcher.

Ron couldn't help but smile as he noted the scowl plastered across his mother's face. It was nice to see her glower directed at someone else for a change. 'Old Dung' was clearly the last person she wanted to be talking to. Everyone knew that Mrs. Weasley disapproved of him, including Dung himself, which no doubt explained the fleeting looks the scruffy thief was shooting at the kitchen door. If he hadn't been put in charge of arranging things with 'Figgy,' Ron suspected he'd have been long gone by now.

"So," Ginny said, pulling up a chair and sitting down beside her brother. "Do you think it will cheer him up?"

"You're kidding, right?" Ron asked, shaking his head dubiously.

"It's a shame, really," Ginny sighed. "But I suppose we'll just have to make the best of it. Still, it will be nice to see him. I mean... I'm sure he'll be glad to see you and Hermione. That's bound to cheer him up a bit. Don't you think?"

"I don't know," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. "I suppose," he added, disregarding his sister as he glanced over her shoulder at Hermione, who had disengaged herself from Bill and waylaid Mundungus the moment he made a beeline for the door. What's she up to? he wondered, as Ginny continued to ramble on.

"... about what our idiotic brothers have planned? Personally, I hope Harry pulls his wand and curses the lot of them before he realizes who they are. It would serve them right. I mean honestly, jumping out of the corners and yelling the moment he walks in the house?"

"What?" Ron said, dragging his attention back to his sister who had just uttered the words 'curse' and 'Harry' in the same sentence. "What are you talking about?"

"Fred and George's plan."

"Plan? What plan?" Ron asked, as he narrowed his eyes and shot a venomous glare in his brothers' direction. "What are those tossers going to do to Harry?"

"I just told you what they were going to do," Ginny replied crossly. "Weren't you listening?"

"Um... no, not really," Ron admitted, his eyes still locked on Fred and George, who had their heads together and were whispering furiously.

"I don't know why I even waste my time talking to you," Ginny said, obviously affronted by Ron's lack of attention.

"Wait," Ron cried, the moment his sister jumped out of her chair and started to storm off. "What are they going to do?" he asked as he chased after her.

"You want to know?" Ginny replied, wrenching her arm from his grasp the instant he grabbed it. "Why don't you just go ask them yourself?"

For a moment Ron just stood there and stared at his sister's retreating form. Girls, he thought, shaking his head in wonder. He had no idea what he'd done to irritate her, not that it really mattered. His brothers and the scheme they were cooking up was all that mattered now. The question was, what were they planning? Only one way to find out, Ron told himself, as he marched across the room to demand some answers.

"You don't suppose he'd actually rat us out," George asked his twin brother in a hushed voice, oblivious to the fact Ron was now standing directly behind them.

"Maybe we're being paranoid," Fred suggested hopefully. "I mean, she might just be talking to him about Harry or something. "

"Yeah right," George groaned. "Look at him, mate," he added, when Mundungus glanced away from Hermione just long enough to shoot them a guilty look. "He's practically shaking in his boots. She's obviously threatening to tell Mum about...."

Unfortunately George's voice dropped so low that Ron wasn't able to make out the rest of the sentence.

"There is no way she could know about that," Fred replied softly. "We've been careful."

"Not so careful Harry didn't catch us," George reminded his brother.

"That was nearly a year ago," Fred protested. "Don't you think she would have said something by now, if she'd seen that?"

"Because Hermione doesn't store away useful information and then use it against you later, does she?"

"Yeah, but we're family. She wouldn't blackmail us."

"She doesn't seem to have any qualms about going after Dung though, does she?" George said softly.

"You've got to admire her style though," Fred replied, the admiration evident in his voice despite his muted tone. "It's not every day you see a teenage witch intimidate a hardened criminal."

"Impressive, isn't she?" Ron said, finally making his presence known. It was quite satisfying to see his twin brothers jump and spin around to stare at him with something close to trepidation in their eyes.

"What are you doing?" Fred demanded to know.

"How long have you been standing there?" George added.

"Long enough," Ron replied with a smirk.

"Why you little..."

"Tut, tut," Ron interrupted, shaking his finger at Fred in a disapproving manner. "Better watch what you say. Unlike Hermione, I have no qualms about blackmailing family."

"Go ahead and tell her you little shit," Fred replied, calling his brother's bluff.

"OY! Mummmm--"

"Shut up," George hissed, covering Ron's mouth with his hand and cutting him off before he could get their mother's attention. "What do you want?" he asked, eyeing his brother warily as he released his hold on him.

"Whatever you are planning on doing to Harry, don't," Ron insisted. " Or I'll tell Mum what I just heard."

"We aren't going to do anything to Harry," Fred shot back instantaneously.

"That's not what Ginny said."

"Ginny? That's what this is about?" George asked, scanning the room for his sister's mane of long red hair. "She's still on about that whole 'surprise' thing?"

"Fine," Fred replied, before Ron could change his mind. "Seems like a waste of good blackmail material to me, but whatever. You've got a deal. We won't jump out at Harry and yell surprise and in exchange you keep your big trap shut about us and Dung."

"That's it?" Ron asked skeptically. "That's what you were planning?"

"Yup," Fred answered with a smirk of his own. "But a deal's a deal, little brother."

"Is that so?" Hermione said as she slipped up beside the three brothers. "Exactly what type of deals are you making?"

"As if you don't already know," George replied harshly. "I wouldn't be surprised if it were your idea in the first place. "

"Sorry," she replied. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh really? And what exactly were you talking to Dung about so intently?" Fred asked.

"That's none of your business," Hermione fired back rapidly.

"It is too our business," Fred snapped. "If you're threatening our supplier it's most definitely our business."

"Supplier?" Ron asked, glancing from the twins to Hermione. "What's Dung supplying them with?" he asked.

"Oh that?" Hermione chuckled.

"Wait a minute," George cried, as his eyebrow shot up in disbelief. "You didn't know?"

"Just a few Class C Non- Tradable Substances," Hermione continued.

"I know now," Ron sniggered.

"Bloody Hell!"

"Oh relax," Hermione replied, lowering her voice so no one but the twins and Ron would hear her. "I don't care where you get your Venomous Tentacula seeds or anything else for that matter. But since you're so interested in making deals, I've got one for you. You stay out of our business," she said, taking Ron by the hand and pulling him away from his brothers, "and we'll stay out of yours."

....................

"How long have you known about their little arrangement with Dung?" Ron asked Hermione as she pulled him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the ground floor.

"Close to a year," she replied offhandedly. "Ever since our Prefect party."

"That long?" Ron cried in amazement. "And you never bothered to tell me?"

If he'd been expecting a reply, he would have been sorely disappointed because Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders and continued to lead him up the stairs towards the first floor landing.

"I could have used that information," he grumbled. "It would have been dead useful, you know?"

"You would have wasted it on something stupid," Hermione sighed.

"I would not."

"You just did."

"No I didn't," he protested. "I didn't even know anything when I made that deal with them. I was bluffing."

"That's not the point," Hermione replied, tugging Ron into her bedroom and shutting the door behind them.

"Yes it is."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is."

"No," Hermione insisted, as she bolted the door. "It isn't. This is," she continued, pulling a small glass container out of her pocket and holding it up for Ron to see.

"What the hell is that?" Ron asked, leaning forward and staring at the vivid blue cloud-like substance floating about in the phial.

The point was now crystal clear. Hermione didn't want anyone to find out about the things Mundungus was supplying his brothers with, because he was supplying her with things as well. Things like this blue vapor, whatever it was.

"That," Hermione said, popping her trunk open and stowing the phial inside, " is a Class B Non-Tradable substance. It's also the reason you and Harry got homework planners last Christmas. It took me the better part of a year to pay for it, so don't mess with it."

"But what is it?" Ron asked again, eyeing the phial as if it were a bomb about to explode. Everyone knew that Class B Non-Tradables were dangerous, which is why they were restricted.

Hermione studied Ron intently as she slammed her trunk closed and locked it. It was time to test the waters and see how he'd react if she shared her research with him. "Botrytis Spoors," she replied in such a casual manner, you'd think they were a part of every 6th year student's potion making kit. Only the fact she pulled the key out of her trunk and squirreling it away in her front pocket, belied her blasé response.

"Botrytis Spoors?" Ron cried, as all the color draining from his face. "But...Botrytis Spoors are toxic. If you don't handle them right...if they get loose and you breathe them..."

"Oh relax," Hermione cut him off. "There's an unbreakable charm on the phial. They aren't going to get loose. You're as bad as Mundungus. All this time he's been dragging his feet and putting me off with those absurd excuses. You'd think he was going to drop dead the moment he touched them, the way he was acting. Well, he should have thought about that before he took all my galleons."

"Hermione," Ron growled. "This is not a joke. Those things could kill you...or Ginny."

"Don't you think you're being a little overly dramatic?" Hermione asked as she rolled her eyes him.

"OVERLY DRAMATIC?" Ron shouted. "That trunk is full of books. HEAVY books."

"I told you, there is an unbreakable charm on the phial," she retorted. "And even if there weren't, there aren't enough spoors in there to kill anyone. We might get a little sick, but..."

"What the hell do you even need Botrytis Spoors for, anyway?" Ron demanded. "This has something to do with all that research you've been doing, doesn't it? Which means you've been working on it for at least a year. "

"I said I'd been working on it for a while," Hermione fired back. She'd seen enough. There was no way she could tell him what she was planning. Not with so many members of the Order in the house. Downstairs or not, they'd still hear the row that would follow. She'd just have to wait.

"What have you been working on?" Ron asked, in a voice that was eerily restrained. "What are you going to do with those spoors?"

"I'm not telling you anything until you calm down," she informed him.

"I am calm."

"Um hum," she muttered. "You're like the eye of a hurricane looking for a direction to squall. Well you can look somewhere else. I'm not going to be the reason for all your blustering and blowing."

"Hermione," Ron growled out her name in warning.

"What?" she asked, staring straight into his intense blue eyes. How in the world am I going to get out of this now?

"Why did you go to so much trouble to get those spoors?"

"Because I need them for a potion I'm going to brew to help protect you, you great prat."

"Me?"

"Well... us," Hermione clarified.

"Oh," Ron replied, the fire in his eyes diminishing. He naturally assumed that 'us' meant the two of them and Harry. "From... Vol... Voldemort?" he asked in a near whisper.

"Among others," she replied. "But I'm not sure it will work yet. I'm still researching it. I might not even need them at all. But just in case I do, I wanted to have them on hand because Botrytis Spoors aren't exactly something we're going to be able to borrow from Snape. And don't even try and tell me that I can't brew it," Hermione said, throwing a reproachful look his way, "because I most certainly can. I'm not an idiot. I'm perfectly capable of using Botrytis Spoors without breathing in the lot of them and even if I did, I'd have to be in a confined space for them to do any real damage so you can..."

"All right," Ron said, cutting her off before she could get any further into her rant. "All right, already. If you can brew a Polyjuice Potion, I'm sure you can brew this. Whatever it is," he added in an attempt to placate her. "Just... be careful with them, ok."

"You aren't seriously going to lecture me about the benefits of caution, are you?"

"I wasn't lecturing you," Ron said, shooting her one of his lopsided grins. It was just like Hermione to remind him that he was the one prone to reckless behavior. "I just don't want anything to happen to you, that's all."

"Nothing is going to happen," she assured him, moving in closer and taking his hand in hers. "Not if I have anything to say about it."

....................

"Ron, Ginny, your father and I need to talk to you for a minute," Mrs. Weasley informed her two youngest children the next evening after dinner.

As if her words were some sort of prearranged signal, there was a flurry of excuses as the rest of the family and Lupin abandoned their seats and made a mad rush for the door.

Taken by surprise, the pair looked at one another and then back at their mother.

"About what?" Ginny asked as she gingerly sat back down in her chair.

Unlike his sister, Ron remained standing, the empty plate he was about to bring to the sink still clutched in his hand.

Oh no, Hermione thought as she stood up with everyone else, only to watch them duck out of the kitchen and scurry for cover. This is not good.

Ron tore his eyes away from his mother and glanced at his girlfriend, who seemed to be frozen next to her chair. The instant their eyes locked, he knew she was thinking the same thing he was. Somehow his mother must have found out he'd been sleeping in her room and she was about to tell them off.

If only it had been that simple.

....................

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE CAN'T GO!!"Ron's angry voice resounded through the lower portion of the house.

"Sounds like she told them," Bill said to Remus Lupin, an instant before the moth eaten curtains covering Mrs. Black's portrait shot open.

"BLOOD TRAITOR!!" The old witch in the painting screeched, as the tall redhead stepped forward, grabbed the screen, and started tugging it closed. "FILTHY ANIMAL!!" she shouted at Lupin, who had stationed himself on the other side.

"Either they're talking it better than I would have suspected, or Molly's shielded the room."

"Oh, he's still shouting," Bill assured his haggard looking companion, "and I'll wager he's not the only one."

....................

Bill was right, of course. All hell broke loose the moment Mrs. Weasley told Ron and Ginny they would not be allowed to attend Harry's party with the rest of the family. The row that ensued nearly shook the kitchen off its foundation. Three Weasleys in a temper was an intimidating sight. Even Hermione, who was used to dealing with Ron, was staggered by the scene that enfolded in front of her. Never in a million years would she dream of yelling at her mother the way Ron and Ginny were yelling at theirs.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Hermione knew that she ought to feel just as outraged as her friends. She knew that they were fighting for her as much as they were themselves, but she couldn't bring herself to shout at Mrs. Weasley. The best she could do was stand there and offer Ron and Ginny her silent support. The odd thing was, she could see both sides.

Mrs. Weasley made some valid points. It would be safer for everyone, including Harry, if the guests all apparated to Surrey. She'd been right when she said that the Floo network and the Knight Bus could be monitored. There was no telling how many spies Voldemort had planted at the Ministry by now. The last thing they needed was for him to discover that Harry was away from the Dursley's house and the safety it provided him. That was just begging for trouble.

But then, Ginny's retort that they could use a portkey had merit, too. Hermione had a sinking suspicion that Mr. Weasley, at least, agreed. When she caught his eye from across the room, he quickly suppressed his smile. Fortunately, his wife hadn't noticed his reaction. She was far to busy with her counter attack.

"Dumbledore has more important things to attend to. He can't be bothered with creating a portkey just so you three can attend a party."

"FINE!" Ron shouted back at his mother. "Hermione can do it."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed, making her voice heard for the first time since the row began.

"Don't be ridiculous," Mrs. Weasley retorted.

"You know the spell, don't you?" Ron asked as he spun around and stared at Hermione startled face.

"Yes, but..."

"See," he said, whirling around to face off against his mother again. "You don't need to bother Dumbledore."

"I can't do it," Hermione said softly behind him.

"Of course you can," Ron insisted. "You can do anything you set your mind to."

"That's not what I mean," she replied. " I mean I won't do it."

"What?" he roared, outraged by her refusal. "Why the hell not?"

"Because she'd get expelled, you idiot," Ginny replied. "She's already in trouble with the Department of Magical Transportation for apparating without a license."

"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that," Ron admitted, in way of an apology. "Well Dad can do it then."

"Oh yes," Mrs. Weasley cut in. "There's a brilliant idea. In case you've forgotten, your father works for the Ministry. Do you have any idea what would happen if he were caught creating unauthorized portkeys?"

"He won't get caught," Ron replied confidently.

"I appreciate the vote of confidence, son," Mr. Weasley piped in, "but I'm afraid your mother is right. There is no way I can do it. Not with Fudge looking for an excuse to sack me."

THIS IS SO BLOODY UNFAIR!" Ginny yelled in frustration. "It's Harry's party. He'd want us there."

"Yeah," Ron readily agreed. The portkey idea wasn't working, maybe it was time to switch tracks and throw a little guilt his mother's way. "We're his best friends. How's he going to feel if we're not there?" he seethed. "The whole point was to help cheer him up. If you go and tell him it was too dangerous for us to go, you're just going to depress him more."

"Be that as it may, you are still not going."

"But, Mum..." Ginny whined.

"No," Mrs. Weasley stated firmly, cutting her daughter off. "I've had enough of this. You three aren't going and that's the end of it."

"But..." Ron ventured.

"I SAID NO!" Mrs. Weasley shouted at her son. "It's far too dangerous. You two have already been targeted by Death Eaters once," she added, motioning at Ron and Hermione. "You will not set one foot outside this house, and that's final."

"That's not fair," Ginny cried. "They aren't after me. Why do I have to stay here?"

"BECAUSE I SAID SO, THAT'S WHY!"

It was all downhill from there. Ron and Ginny had been a formidable team, but they never really stood a chance. It was obvious to everyone that Mrs. Weasley was not going to relent. Not as long as the safety of her children was an issue.

Hermione remained surprisingly silent as she followed Ron and Ginny upstairs after the row ended. She was disappointed, of course. She would have loved to visit Harry and see the expression on his face when the everyone surprised him, but there was part of her that could understand where Mrs. Weasley was coming from. She wasn't about to admit that to Ron or Ginny, though. It was easier to just sit back and let them vent without getting into it herself.

And vent they did. The two siblings spent the rest of the evening in the drawing room defaming their mother and her unfair decision. Fortunately the rest of the family had sense enough to give them some space, which was a relief. They were doing a pretty fair job of working each other up, and the last thing they needed was Fred and George popping in to add a little salt to their wounds.

"TO HELL WITH HER!" Ron declared as he paced around the room in a temper. "I'm going and she can't stop me."

"You'll never get past the wards they are going to set up around Mrs. Figg's house," Hermione interjected as she watched him tread back and forth in front of the sofa.

"BUGGER!"

"Don't swear."

"How can you just sit there like that?" Ginny asked in disbelief. "Aren't you upset?"

"Of course I am," Hermione replied. "But getting yourselves all worked up again isn't going to help. Fighting with her isn't the answer. And neither is sneaking out and flying to Surrey on your broom," she added, knowing that was probably what Ron was considering.

"Then what do you suggest?" Ron asked.

"I'm not sure yet," Hermione admitted. "The portkey idea seems like our best bet. But I don't think we're likely to find anyone that can cast the spell without worrying about the consequences. Dumbledore is the only one I can think of that the Ministry has no hold over."

"A fat load of good that does us," Ginny retorted. "There has to be someone else that can do it. We just have to figure out who."

....................

"McGonagall was just here," Ginny said as she knocked loudly on the partially open door to the drawing room and entered. "She left our Hogwarts letters," she continued, sifting through the stack of envelopes in her hand and removing the one addressed to herself. "And your O.W.L. results."

"WHAT!" Hermione shrieked, jumping out of her chair so fast, she upended the chess board she'd been hunched over. "They're here? Already?" she asked, staring at Ginny's outstretched hand with trepidation.

Ignoring the startled cries of the chess pieces that had just tumbled to the floor and scattered, Ron sat motionless on the sofa and gaped up at his sister. That is until Crookshanks, who had been sleeping in an empty chair, noticed everyone's attention was diverted and pounced on the nearest piece, which just happened to be Ron's Queen. "Oh no, you don't," Ron said, scooping the large ginger cat up off the floor before he could do any damage.

"Well?" Ginny asked, pushing the stack of letters towards Hermione. "Don't you want to know how you did?"

"I... I can't," Hermione replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. "You do it," she said, turning to Ron with a look of utmost horror plastered across her face.

"Alright," he responded, passing the squirming cat off to Hermione and taking the letters from his sister. "I knew it," Ron said with a grin, as he quickly scanned Hermione's results. "You got an O.W.L. in everything. Even... Muggle Studies? What did you sit that exam for? You don't even take that class anymore."

"I can still take the test if I want," she replied defensively as she dropped Crookshanks on the nearest chair and snatched her results out of Ron's hand. "I... I got an E," Hermione cried, wrinkling her nose up and glaring at the offensive mark in disgust. "I can't believe this! I got an E."

"But E's are great," Ginny said in what she hoped was a reassuring manner.

"No, they're not," Hermione snapped, her eyes still glued on the parchment in disbelief. "I could have done better. I should have done better," she reproached herself. "If I hadn't been distracted I could have-"

"Of course you were bloody distracted," Ron said, cutting her off. "That evil cow attacked Hagrid right in the middle of our exam. We were all distracted."

"They didn't take that into consideration though, did they?" Hermione replied crossly. Ron had more sense than to answer her question. She might be angry with herself and Umbridge, but that didn't mean she wouldn't take it out on him if he gave her an excuse. It would be better for everyone if he just kept his mouth shut, especially since nothing he said was likely to make her feel any better. Diverting his eyes from Hermione, Ron tore his own letter open and focused on his results.

"Well?" Ginny asked, when she saw his mouth drop open.

"Eight," he answered, sounding just as bewildered as Hermione had when she saw the E she'd received in Astronomy. "I got an O.W.L in everything but History of Magic," he continued, scanning the marks again just to make sure he'd read them correctly. "I even passed Divination," he laughed. "I never would have seen that one coming. Not even with a crystal ball."

"OH RON!" Hermione squealed, just before she launched herself at him. "I'm so proud of you," she cried, throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly.

"You two are revolting," George said as he approached the open doorway and glanced into the room. "What's she on about anyway?" he asked his sister.

"O.W.L. results," Ginny replied.

"OY MUM!" George bellowed down the hall. "O.W.L. RESULTS ARE IN!"

"What did you go and do that for?" Ron hissed as Hermione disengaged herself from him and stood beside him, beaming.

"No need to ask how you did," George said, focusing on Hermione and completely ignoring his brother's question. "What about you, Ron?"

"He was bound to do better than you, wasn't he?" Ginny snickered.

"Well?" Mrs. Weasley asked, sweeping into the room and looking around excitedly.

"Hermione got twelve," Ron replied.

"Oh that's wonderful, dear," Mrs. Weasley cried, setting the basket of dirty laundry she'd been carrying down on the sofa and giving her a quick hug. "Your parents will be so proud. And?" she asked, releasing Hermione and turning on Ron. "What about you?"

"Er.." Ron muttered, afraid his reply might lead to a repeat of the prefect scene that occurred the year before. Damn you, George.

"Oh come on, Ronniekins," George said, snatching the letter out of his brother's hand. "It can't be that bad. I take that back," he added, wrinkling his face up in revulsion the moment he saw Ron's marks. "This is appalling," he cried waving the parchment in the air and then thrusting it back at his brother as if it might contaminate him. "Eight? You got eight bloody O.W.L.s? "

"OH, RON!" Mrs. Weasley cried, throwing her arms around her son and kissing him on the cheek. "That's wonderful."

"MUM! Please," Ron begged, shoving her away as his face heated up. "Gerroff."

"Of course you'll have to work a bit harder this year if you expect to be made Head Boy. Your brothers got 12 O.W.L.s apiece, after all, and this year is your last chance to make an impression."

Hermione's smile turned into a scowl the instant Mrs. Weasley started comparing Ron's achievement to his brothers'. "This is all your fault, you know?" George leaned over and whispered in her ear. "You keep this up and you'll turn him into--"

"Shut up," Hermione hissed, pushing him through the open doorway and into the hall before he could say anything else. "It's no wonder his self esteem is so low, what with you two constantly putting him down and your mother comparing him to everyone else."

"Don't get your knickers in a twist," George replied, more than a little taken aback by the unexpected attack. "Ron may be an idiot, but he knows a joke when he hears one."

"You don't even realize what you've done to him, do you?" she shot back, even as she tried to fight back her mounting anger. It wasn't George she was mad at. Not really. It was his mother. "Please, just let him have this one," she pleaded. "He worked hard for those marks and he should be proud of himself. Don't belittle his accomplishment and make him feel ashamed of doing well."

"OH GINNY! THAT'S FABULOUS!" Mrs. Weasley's voice carried out into the hall.

"Please, George. Don't give him a hard time about this."

"Relax, already," George replied uncomfortably. "He knows we're only joking. It isn't a big deal."

"It is a big deal," Hermione protested. "Do you think I'd stoop to begging if it wasn't?"

"WHAT? YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!" Ron's angry bellow resounded from the other room. "IF SHE GETS TO GO, SO DO I!"

George and Hermione cut off their conversation immediately and ducked back into the room just in time to see Mrs. Weasley place her hands on her hips and square off against her youngest son. "Absolutely not!" she shot back, undeterred by the indignation on his face.

"What in the world?" Hermione asked, looking at Ginny for an answer.

"Ginny just tricked Mum into letting her go to Harry's party," Ron cried, so outraged his face had passed red and gone straight to purple.

"I didn't trick her," Ginny protested. "She said I could have anything I wanted for being made a Prefect and that's what I wanted."

"IF ANYONE OUGHT TO BE ABLE TO GO IT'S ME AND HERMIONE! WE'RE PREFECTS TOO, PLUS WE JUST GOT 20 O.W.L.S. WHERE'S OUR BLOODY REWARD? HE'S OUR BEST FRIEND, NOT YOURS!" he bellowed at his sister.

"RON!" Hermione cried, shocked by his rude retort. But she might as well have saved her breath, for all the good it did.

"YOU GOT YOUR BLOODY BROOM, SO SHUT UP!"

"BOTH OF YOU, STOP IT THIS INSTANT!" Mrs. Weasley roared over her bickering children. Ron and Ginny's squabbling stopped immediately, but the pair continued to glare at one another.

"If she can ride the Knight Bus, why can't I?" Ron asked, turning his glower on his mother.

"I already told you. Your father and I discussed it and it's just too dangerous for you and Hermione to leave the house right now."

"But Ginny...."

"They aren't after your sister," his mother interjected before he could argue any further. "They are after you two and Harry. If either of you get on that bus, everyone on it will become a target. Is that what you want?" she inquired. " Are you really willing to put all those people in danger?"

"No," Ron growled, anger radiating off him in invisible waves that everyone in the room could feel. "But..."

"No more buts," his mother said firmly. "You two aren't going and that will be the end of it," she declared, picking up her laundry and marching over to the door. "And just so you know, your brother and Tonks have volunteered to stay here while the rest of us are gone, so there's no point trying to sneak out. The doors and windows are going to be magically sealed and if you go anywhere near them, Bill will lock you in your room."

Hermione saw the word forming on Ron's lips and cringed, knowing it was going to come out while his mother was still within earshot.

"BUGGER!"

Mrs. Weasley froze in the doorway, her back to the room and listened to the string of curse words that tumbled out of her youngest son's mouth.

"That no good... bloody volunteering... stay here and mind me... lock me in my fucking room, will he? I'd like to see him fucking try."

"Ron," Hermione hissed, but her warning had no effect. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley decided it was better to just let him rage and get it out of his system. Exhaling the breath she'd been holding, Molly marched out into the hall and out of sight. The moment she was gone, Ginny and George bolted for the door and headed in the opposite direction, leaving Hermione to deal with Ron.