Harry Potter and the Men of Respect

By Technomad, in the style of Mario Puzo

Ginevra Weasley sat in the Three Broomsticks, wearing her best dress robes, her brother Ron by her side. She had been told to be here, and Ron had shown up at the Burrow to escort her. She stole a look at him, and thought that she had never seen him look so solemn. He was also in his good robes, the ones that Fred and George had bought him, and she firmly suppressed the thought that some girl would find him very attractive. To her surprise, she found that she resented the idea that any of her brothers would marry; she quite liked being the most important girl in their lives.

"It's time," said Ron. Getting up, he offered his sister his arm, and they went up the stairs to the big meeting room that Madam Rosmerta had put at Harry Potter's disposal. Inside, she looked around. Harry Potter was sitting at the head of a long table, at which sat all of her brothers save only Ron, Hermione Granger, Dean Thomas, Oliver Wood, Cho Chang, Zacharias Smith, Seamus Finnegan, and, much to Ginny's surprise, Luna Lovegood and Theo Nott. All of them were looking serious. In a corner, a candle burned before a row of wizard photos, but Ginny couldn't make out who was in those pictures.

Harry broke the silence. "Ginevra Weasley, do you know why you are here?"

Ginny knew enough to be able to give the right answer. "No, I do not."

"You are here, Ginevra Weasley, to be inducted into this thing of ours--what you may know as Dumbledore's Army." Harry paused, indicating Ron. "Your brother--and the rest of your brothers--have vouched for your loyalty. Have you made your bones?"

"She has, padrone," said Ron. "She was sent to kill Goyle, Sr., and completed the mission successfully. To add to things, she set it up so that Rabastan would take the fall for the death."

"Excellent!" Harry looked very pleased.. "On the night of my parents' death, Albus Dumbledore, may he rest in peace, thought to bring me to my relatives' home in Little Whinging, Surrey--only to be forestalled by the Death Eaters. Those scum had killed my harmless Muggle relatives, my Aunt Petunia Dursley, my baby cousin Dudley, and my aunt's husband, Vernon Dursley. Accordingly, he had to activate a backup plan, and sent me to America, to live with a great man who owed him a great favor."

"Ginevra, I have adapted many ideas, many practices, from the organization run by my beloved adopted father, Vito Corleone. In his house, I was treated as a son, raised with love and mentored personally by my adopted father, or, as he was known, the Godfather. He knew that one day he would lose me to the wizarding world, so he took every opportunity to talk to me, one-on-one, and he told me many things that have been very useful. I honor his memory every day of my life, and when that grinudo Lord Voldemort falls at last, it will be because of his wisdom."

Harry paused for a moment to have a sip from the glass of wine by his place. "So, Ginevra, today is your day to declare your loyalty." He paused again, then went on, his voice firmer: "This is not a matter of business. This is not a school prank. This is a thing of honour. If you agree to this, this…thing of ours…must come before everything else. Your religion. Your husband. Your children. If your mother is on her deathbed and you are summoned, you will have to kiss her goodbye and leave to obey whatever orders your superiors have for you." His green eyes flashed behind his glasses. "Do you understand this and agree to it?"

"Yes," said Ginny, proud that her voice didn't shake.

"Two laws that we have are both punished by death, Ginevra," Harry said. "The first is silence. No matter who outside our organisation asks, or under what circumstances, you must never tell our secrets. The second law is to leave other members' spouses and children alone. Can you promise to obey those laws?"

"Yes!"

Harry looked very grim, and as she looked around the table, she saw that everybody else was equally earnest. "In this organisation, you go in alive--you come out only dead. The instrument by which you live is the wand--" picking up her wand--"and it may be the way in which you die. Do you swear, on your magic, to use your wand to help this thing of ours?"

"Hold out your hand, Ginevra." Ginny held out her hand, and it was seized by both of his. "We will now swear the oath, and if you ever betray it, you will most assuredly die. Failure on this point was what orphaned me, long ago." Hermione stepped forward. "Hermione will be our Bonder."

As she swore the oath, their hands were linked by a glow of magic, lighting up the rather dimly-lit room. When it was done, a roar of applause rang out, and Ginny found herself being hugged and kissed by everybody, men and women alike.

"Now that you're a friend of ours, I need to assign you." Harry said. "Everybody, hold out your wand hand and give me a few fingers." A quick count later, and Harry announced: "Very well. You are now a sgarrista--a soldier, you might say--in the regime of your older brother, Caporegime Fred 'The Jester' Weasley."

Her brother gave her another hug and kissed both her cheeks. "Congratulations. Our parents would be so proud of you!" he muttered in her ear.

"And now, on to other pressing matters," Harry said. "Is the matter of dealing with our dear friend, Draco 'the Tosser' Malfoy taken care of, consigliere?"

"Yes, padrone," said Hermione. "I have assigned Fred to that task."

"Excellent!" smiled Harry. "Fred?" Fred looked up, his usual jokey manner all gone. He radiated respect as Harry went on: "Take our new friend along on this. She needs to see how these things are done."

Some weeks later, Draco Malfoy woke up. He felt something else in his bed--something that was not him. A quick "Lumos" brought light, and when he saw what had been left in his bed, he screamed himself hoarse for five minutes straight.

A few blocks away, listening in on the Muggle electronic devices they had had planted in Malfoy's room by a cooperative and close-mouthed house elf, Ginny turned to her older brother and caporegime.

"Fred--I love it, but wasn't the original plan to put a horse's head in his bed?"

Fred winked at his little sister. "Yes, it was. However, we came up with this variation, and the boss agreed that putting the other end of a horse there would be more appropriate."

"Ah, I see. Draco always was a horse's arse, wasn't he?"

Meanwhile, in his dark, dark underground headquarters, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, received a package. No fool, he cast several spells that would tell him if the package was dangerous. Finding nothing wrong, he opened it.

Inside, he found a wizard's robe, wrapped around a very odd, very dead creature. "Lucius--what is this?"

"That, my lord, is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack. And those robes look like Walden McNair's. It's a message, my lord. It's meant to tell you that Walden McNair now sleeps with the Snorkacks."

Voldemort sighed. "Well--he slept with everything else when he was alive. Why should being dead change anything?"

END