Chapter Six

Uncle Archie

At supper that evening Mr. Weasley was quite eager to talk about what he'd learned at the Ministry that day. "Kingsley's been making inquiries at the Improper Use of Magic Office, following up on Greyback case. Malfada's reviewed the case and she didn't see any problem with their findings. The good news –" he beamed at Harry "– is that she also mentioned that there were wizards who were of age with Harry (you and Hermione, Ron), who performed magic to help him pack, and they testify that no Muggles were present, she expects that Scrimgeour will let the case drop," Mr. Weasley finished happily.

"What did he find out about our cases?" Ron asked quickly.

"Well, he didn't want to ask too many questions, Ron," Mr. Weasley explained patiently. "He didn't want to arouse any suspicion about why he was asking after so many of you at once."

"Right, figures," Ron said, annoyed.

"Ron, don't be such a baby," Ginny chided him. "He's got over a month to find out, you know." Mrs. Weasley called for her to help and she went and brought a large bowl of mashed potatoes back to the table. Mrs. Weasley was bringing steak and kidney pie and Cornish pastries to the table; Ginny grabbed another bowl, of cauliflower, and they all sat down to eat.

"That is good news about Harry," Mrs. Weasley put in, also smiling happily at Harry. Harry smiled in return, though he couldn't help worrying what else would go wrong before July fourteenth, now only a week away next Monday.

"It is," Ginny agreed, smiling at him as well. Harry smiled back, wishing for a moment he didn't have to be so noble, and stupid.

"I'm glad we're all agreed about Harry's good news –" Ron began dryly, but stopped as Hermione's elbow caught him in the ribs.

"How's the housecleaning been going?" Mr. Weasley asked, buttering a roll.

"Very well," Mrs. Weasley said brightly. "We're all done!"

"Ah, splendid! Getting this house clean top to bottom can be quite a chore," Mr. Weasley said feelingly. "I know – I remember helping when I was a boy."

"Speaking of that, sir," Harry put in, seizing the opportunity, "Ron and I found some of your school papers in the attic today."

"Did you, now?" Mr. Weasley said, his face breaking into a grin. "They must've been quite interesting. I daresay I would be embarrassed to look at them after all this time; as I recall, I got my share of Poors, I'm sorry to say."

"We also found your journal," Ron said, producing the book which he'd hidden behind his back. "We were going to ask you who Uncle Archie was."

The effect that name had on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley was remarkable. Both of them looked at each other, mouths open. "Oh, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley whispered, her eyes beginning to water.

Mr. Weasley sighed heavily. "Well, Molly, we knew this day would come. I just didn't think it would be now."

"Who's 'Uncle Archie?' " Ginny asked, perplexed, looking from her mother and father to Hermione, Ron, then Harry.

"Perhaps I should wait until the rest of us are together –" Ginny and Ron made sounds of protest "– On the other hand," Mr. Weasley finished, looking at his youngest son and daughter, "It could be a while before that happens, and there's no use keeping you in suspense." He took a deep breath and began.

"Archie Weasley was my uncle, the youngest brother of my father Septimus. He was quite a talented wizard and was also a very skilled artisan and craftsman. He absolutely loved building gadgets and nick-nacks that worked Muggle-fashion as well as magical devices. I remember he once built a small puzzle box and gave to me when I was about eleven –" Ron held up the silver box "– yes, just like that! Was that up in the attic as well? Goodness, I must be getting forgetful in my old age.

"Well, to continue: My grandfather died when I was fourteen and his will stipulated that Archie was to take care of my mother and provide for her from the family gold, which he was put in charge of. This made my other uncles angry, because they considered Uncle Archie something of a spendthrift and wastrel."

"Was he, then?" Ron asked.

"No," Mr. Weasley said firmly. "He was generous with his own money, even though the allowances he, my father and uncles had from the family estate were not as extravagant as some pureblood Wizarding families, but we were well-off enough. My father was quite content with the arrangement and he helped Archie take care of my mother for several years before she died as well."

"I remember that," Mrs. Weasley put in, speaking quietly. "It was just before you and I eloped, Arthur." They smiled lovingly at each other for several moments before Ron discretely cleared his throat.

"Well, after my gran died my uncles began clamoring for their share of the inheritance, even though they had also done quite well for themselves and had no real need of the money, whereas both my father and Uncle Archie had devoted themselves to caring for her and hadn't pursued their fortunes to any degree.

"Archie put them off for quite a while, telling them that it was taking time converting the money into gold from the various interests he'd invested in our mother's name. They didn't believe him; said he was using the money himself, or hiding it for himself and my father to use later."

"Did they ever find out what happened to the money?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

"No one ever did," Mr. Weasley said heavily. "I refuse to believe Uncle Archie took the money. Lord knows my father never saw any of it, either."

"What happened to him?" Harry asked.

"The last we ever saw of him was on my birthday, the year Bill was born," Mr. Weasley said, remembering. "Molly and I had been married a few months and were living here with my parents, when he showed up at the door one day with that –" and Mr. Weasley pointed to the grandfather clock " —as a wedding gift for us. I remember as he presented it to us two hands appeared on the face of the clock.

"He said to me, 'Arthur, you've always been the most curious of the lot in our family; I reckon you'll go far as long as you keep that.'" Mr. Weasley sighed gustily. "I suppose he was wrong about that, wasn't he?"

"Oh, rubbish!" Mrs. Weasley said, her face flushing. "Arthur, you know very well you've done alright by all of us." She was echoed by Ron and Ginny, and Harry and Hermione both nodded in agreement as well.

"Well, he had a piece of cake and left, and that was the last any of us ever saw of him, or of the money," Mr. Weasley continued. "I thought my uncles were going to have strokes, they were so angry at him. They said some very unpleasant things about him, and my father and I were not very happy with them, and told them so. They cut off all communications with us and we haven't heard a word from them since then."

He sat back, looking around at the others. Hermione, Harry saw, looked on the verge of tears while Ron and Ginny just stared at each other, openmouthed.

Finally Ron spoke. "But if he was in charge of your grandmum's money, what happened when they went down to Gringotts and demanded to know what happened to it?"

"Ron, it was gone," his father said patiently. "Her accounts were closed, and if anyone ever found out who closed them I was never let in on it."

"So he might have taken the money and left, right?" Ron persisted.

"He might have," Mr. Weasley admitted reluctantly. "But I knew him my entire life, until he disappeared, and he never struck me as the kind of man to do something like that."

"But people can change, can't they?" Ron pressed.

"They can, but –"

"So your Uncle Archie might be the reason we're all poor," Ron cut in. The women gasped and Harry blinked, surprised at Ron's rudeness to his father.

"Ron, shut it," Ginny snapped at him. "If Dad says he trusted his uncle that should be good enough." Both she, and Hermione, Harry noticed, were giving Ron very disapproving looks. He didn't even dare look at Mrs. Weasley.

"Fine," Ron said loudly, not caring what any of them thought. "Ignore it if you like. I can see why you didn't want to say anything about it – it's plain as anything that he did something with the money!"

Mr. Weasley was giving Ron a disappointed look, but he said nothing. Mrs. Weasley, however, was more vocal.

"RON, THAT'S ENOUGH! YOUR FATHER KNEW HIS UNCLE BETTER THAN YOU DID, IT'S NOT YOUR PLACE TO QUESTION HIM –" Ron stood and bolted from the table up the stairs. "– COME BACK HERE, I'M NOT FINISHED –"

"Molly, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, putting out a hand to stop her as she began to get up and follow Ron. "Let him be for now. I didn't take the news of my uncle's disappearance very well myself, now that I think about it."

"Well who does he think he is," Mrs. Weasley said, still quite vexed. "Questioning his own father like that?" Harry looked at Hermione and Ginny; both of them looked as uncomfortable as he felt, though from Ginny's expression she wasn't too happy with the news either. From what Harry understood, Mr. Weasley had just told them the reason why their family had been cut off from the more well-to-do families of the Wizarding world.

The rest of the meal passed in silence, even the pudding was eaten without comment. Harry helped clear the table, but when he went to wipe the dishes Hermione told him in a whisper to check on Ron. Glad to be out of there – both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked very unhappy – Harry ran up the steps and walked into Ron's room, where Ron was lying on his bed, his arms folded across his chest. Harry laid down on his bed as well.

After a few minutes Ron finally spoke. "So what did they say after I left?" he asked plaintively.

"Nothing," Harry said. "Your father just said he was unhappy as well when it happened."

"I'll bet," Ron growled. "His uncle steals the family fortune and he just can't handle the truth, so he believes everyone else in his family is just wrong about him, and he's right."

Harry sat up and faced Ron. "Listen, Ron, I do know something about misjudging family members. The year that Sirius broke out of Azkaban everyone was sure that he wanted to kill me. Even I was sure he did. And when I thought he was the one who betrayed my parents, I wanted to kill him.

"Only after I had a chance to talk to Sirius did I understand what he went through, and why he was so upset seeing Peter Pettigrew in the picture of your family while you were in Egypt that summer. He'd spent twelve years in prison for a crime he didn't commit, and there was the proof of it right there in that picture." Harry fell silent.

Ron said nothing for a while. When he finally did, Harry could hear the frustration in his voice. "I know I've complained about being poor, Harry. It's not always easy having nothing but hand-me-downs and secondhand things." He shrugged. "But it's not that big a deal, I s'pose. Both Bill and Charlie have done well for themselves, they're happy with what they're doing, and Bill's married now." Ron sighed and sat up on the side of his bed, looking at Harry.

"I just thought, you know, that our family ran out of money or something like that. I never expected to hear that one of my relatives took it all."

"Your dad doesn't think so," Harry argued.

"Yeah, but it was Dad's favorite uncle. I was reading his journal earlier and he adored the bloke. Wanted to be just like him when he grew up, being able to build things like he did. 'S probably why Dad's so wild about Muggle things like plugs and eckeltricity and what-have-you – they do things without magic that we do with it."

Harry nodded.

Ron shrugged again, a bit angry, perhaps, at himself. "I just couldn't take it, Harry. I know Dad loved the guy, and maybe we've been better off not rubbing shoulders with slime like the Malfoys and that lot, but just once, it would be nice, you know, not having to worry about where every Sickle and Knut goes, much less every Galleon."

"You know if you ever need money," Harry said quietly, "I've got loads of it in –"

"Thanks, mate," Ron said, cutting over him. "You've always been that way, since the first day I've known you. You nearly cleaned out the lunch trolley on the Hogwarts Express the first time we rode it, you've bought things loads of times. And you giving the Triwizard Tournament money to Fred and George to start their shop was brilliant! They're making bags of gold, and there isn't anything they wouldn't do for you.

"I just don't want to feel like I have my hand out all the time, you know?"

"I haven't thought anything like that," Harry said quickly.

"I know," Ron said. "But I have."

The door opened at that moment and Hermione stepped in without knocking. She crossed her arms, looking at Ron severely. "That was very rude of you, Ron, talking to your father like that."

"Drop it, Hermione," Harry and Ron both said, then looked at each other and laughed. Hermione, however, was not amused.

"Oh fine, then," she said testily. "Be rude to me on top of it, too!"

"Look," Ron told her shortly. "I'll talk to Dad in the morning, I'll make it right with him, okay?"

"Well, you should!"

"Well, I will!"

Hermione stood there for a minute, looking back and forth between them, before finally asking, "What were you doing before I came in?"

"Talking," Harry said curtly.

"About … ?" Hermione prompted.

"About wonderful 'Uncle Archie,' of course," Ron said irritably. "I'll talk to Dad, okay? Just drop it, will ya? Go read a book or something."

Hermione looked at him, stung, then turned and stalked to the door. "Fine," she said, without looking at Ron. "I'll leave you two to chat. Good night, Harry." Without a word to Ron she left.

Ron leaned forward, putting his face in his hands while Harry looked between him and the door, perplexed. Both Hermione and Ron were being noticeably cross with each other recently, he thought. He couldn't pin down why yet, though. They didn't seem to be like this when they came for him at Privet Drive. Harry wondered if he could get Ron to talk about it.

"Fancy a game of wizard chess," he asked, trying to sound casual.

"Maybe tomorrow," Ron said, then picked his pajama bottoms off the foot of his bed and walked to the door. "I'm going to get ready for bed, I'm tired." And he walked out the door; Harry heard him trudge down the steps to the bathroom.

Putting on his own nightclothes, Harry waited until Ron returned to head down to the bathroom himself. He and Ron didn't' talk; when he came back Ron was in bed, facing away from Harry's camp bed. Harry got into the bed and lay there for a while, thinking about Mr. Weasley's uncle and the Weasley fortune until he heard Ron snoring. He rolled onto his side and within a few minutes he was fast asleep.

Hermione was distant to both Ron and Harry for the next few days, even though Ron apologized to his father the morning following the revelation about Uncle Archie.

The next several days were tense for Harry; the Ministry hearing was less than two weeks away, Hermione was barely talking to him, and Ron had become obsessed with going through the boxes in the attic, looking for more information about Archie Weasley and details of his disappearance.

He busied himself doing chores for Mrs. Weasley: sweeping the kitchen, cleaning windows, washing up after meals; in short, the kinds of things he'd done at the Dursleys since he'd been old enough for his aunt to put him to work. The difference at the Burrow, of course, was that Mrs. Weasley was appreciative of the help he gave rather than critical, as Petunia had been.

Finally, a little more than a week after they'd started, the Burrow was as dusted and swept and mopped as it could get, and Harry lapsed back into moping about as Hermione and Ron both ignored him; Hermione with her face continually in one book after another and Ron digging through box after box pulled down from the attic. The only other person around he could talk to, Ginny, Harry felt somehow ashamed to approach, since he had broken off their relationship so he could pursue Voldemort. He would feel hypocritical if he tried to engage her now, after that. It had been frustrating to think how much time they had wasted by not getting together long before this past spring. Harry couldn't help wondering, however, how much harder it would have been to break up with Ginny if he'd been with her for a year or two before learning about Voldemort's Horcruxes and what had to be done with them, and him.

The latest word from Mr. Weasley, while encouraging, had left Harry feeling somehow ill at ease, as if there was something being left unsaid. Mr. Weasley had said that Rufus Scrimgeour had never appointed a new head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement since Amelia Bones' murder last year; it had fallen under his direct supervision since then. Harry hadn't exactly been on good terms with Scrimgeour; the last time they'd met Scrimgeour had walked away from him angrily after Harry rebuffed his efforts to recruit him as a Ministry "mascot." But the word, from more than one source, had been that Scrimgeour was tough but fair. Even Dumbledore had thought that the Minister was more able to recognize the threat that Voldemort posed than Cornelius Fudge had been.

A week after they had learned about Archie Weasley, Harry, finding Hermione absorbed as usual in a large book and Ron off in the attic again, went to their room and flopped onto his bed, bored. So bored, in fact, that he was considering getting out Ron's copy of Advanced Potion-Making (as his was still in the Room of Requirement) and thumbing through the potions there for something to do. At that moment, however, he heard Ron running down the stairway from the attic. "Harry!" he shouted as he hit the bottom step and bolted past their door.

"In here," Harry called, and Ron's footsteps stopped and rapidly retraced themselves. He threw open the door a moment later and barreled in waving something in one hand.

"I found this in one of the boxes," Ron said excitedly, handing Harry what turned out to be a decades-old copy of the Daily Prophet. Buried inside was a small article about the disappearance of Archie Weasley a few days before. Harry read,

Local Wizard Disappears, Family Discovers Money Missing

Archie Weasley, youngest son of the late Conan Weasley and his recently departed wife, Amadora, was last seen at a birthday celebration for one of his nephews, Arthur, recently married to Molly Prewett, it was reported by Archie's older brother Septimus, Arthur's father.

Close on the heels of this information, it was reported by Septimus's older brothers, Lucius and Hieronymus, that the Weasley fortune was missing from its Gringotts accounts, established in their father's name some 65 years before, and which had been entrusted to younger brother Archie upon the death of his father Conan.

"It's not hard to imagine what happened," Lucius Weasley said after the accounts were discovered empty. "Archie always was a spendthrift." "Our parents were both trusting souls," added Heironymus. "They believed that Archie would one day change his ways. Unfortunately for the family, he didn't."

Lucius and Hieronymus, both involved in the import/export of magical commodities, said that Archie was "jealous of their prosperity" and probably saw the family fortune as the only way to attain enough gold for himself. "He need only have come to us for help," Lucius told the Daily Prophet. "We would have seen him well taken care of. It is a shame he chose to disappear with family gold rather than sharing the inheritance with his brothers."

Septimus Weasley, on the other hand, had different idea about what had occurred. "Archie was a very giving, caring person, and very generous with his own money. Fortune meant very little to him, especially if in acquiring it one loses sight of what having wealth means. I do not know what happened to the money, but I am quite sure that Archie had nothing to do with its disappearance."

When asked to comment on the situation, Artag, the newly-appointed Chief Goblin and President of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, where Mrs. Weasley kept her gold, replied, "Unless you'd like to see a very thorough listing of your paper's account history in Witch Weekly magazine, take off, and stop asking impertinent questions about things that aren't your business."

"The Prophet hasn't changed much in 30 years, has it?" Harry said, looking up at Ron. "They were dragging people through the muck then just like they do today."

"Now look who they're taking the mickey out of here." Ron thrust another paper at him. Harry saw that it was dated about a year after the first one he'd just read. Emblazoned across the top of the front page was the headline:

Weasley Brothers Convicted of Bank, Trading Fraud Scheme

Lucius and Hieronymus Weasley, both of London, were accused, tried and convicted of numerous counts of fraud in connection with their import/export business, Dragon's Eye Imports, Ltd., Ministry officials reported late yesterday.

Lucius Weasley, 41, and his brother Hieronymus, 38, both repeatedly denied the accusations, although Ministry officials were able to provide numerous examples of contraband found in their possession at a warehouse in the West India Docks. The street value of the contraband was estimated at between 5000 and 7000 Galleons. Lucius Weasley was sentenced to 5 years at Azkaban prison; his brother Hieronymus was sentenced to 4 years.

Minister of Magic Ezekiel Bones told the Prophet, "Our Ministry personnel are working ceaselessly to protect both the Wizarding and Muggle communities from unscrupulous businessmen like the Weasley brothers, who may have been responsible for delivering hundreds, if not thousands, of restricted items into Muggle-baiting hands, many of them non-wizards such as goblins and dwarves. We are looking into all activities by the Weasley brothers and their other family members."

(Please turn to page 3, column 2)

"It goes on like that," Ron said before Harry could turn the page, "But essentially it shows that Septimus's and Archie's older brothers were trying to put the blame for the money disappearing onto them."

"And you think it was these two done it?" Harry deduced.

"None other." Ron sat down on his bed, looking at the picture on the front page. Lucius and Hieronymus were shown, each chained to a chair that reminded Harry strongly of the one in Courtroom Ten at the Ministry of Magic. Both men were shouting angrily, at each other and at the members of the Wizengamot in front of whom they evidently sat.

"So," Harry said mildly, "Decided your dad was right, did you?"

Ron looked at him for a moment, a sheepish grin spreading over his face. "Well," he said finally, "I know he really liked his uncle, and I've had a chat with Mum as well; she thought he was alright too, though she only met him a few times. She said Dad couldn't say enough good things about him. I guess I'd be a right git to think I knew everything there was to know about him based on what Dad told us that night."

Looking around, Ron leaned in close, motioning for Harry to do the same. Harry did so, wondering what was up. "The thing is," Ron said conspiratorially. "What if nobody ever found all that gold, Harry? If the older Weasleys hid it, and never got out of Azkaban, it might still be hidden somewhere."

"How do you know they never got out?" Harry wondered.

"Mum's got the Weasley genealogy records, she's been compiling a book of them. She got interested when she saw the Black family tapestry in number 12 Grimmauld Place. I looked up Lucius and Hieronymus Weasley and both of them were listed as dying in Azkaban within two years after they'd gone in."

"So you're thinking about looking for this gold, then?" Harry actually approved of the idea; it would keep Ron, Harry hoped, out of harm's way while he hunted for the Horcruxes. Harry could probably convince Hermione to take care of Ron, so both of them would not be targeted as his friends, something Harry was wondering more and more about.

"Well, after we help you, Harry." Ron looked askance, somewhat embarrassed. "I guess… well, I thought we might… well…" his words trailed off. But Harry understood what he was thinking.

"Sure, mate," he said with a genuine compassion for Ron. "We can have a go at that too, once Voldemort's dead."

Ron smiled even as he involuntarily winced at the name. "How about we get up a Quidditch game with Ginny and Hermione?"

"I'm game if they are."

But Ginny was talking with her mother in the Burrow's kitchen. They both stopped as Harry and Ron walked in, and Ginny's eyes were red, as if she'd been crying. Harry and Ron looked at each other and decided not to get into it. They backed out of the kitchen and went looking for Hermione, whom they found, as usual lately, reading.

Hermione merely looked up from the book in her lap and said "No, thanks," coolly before looking away again. Harry and Ron shrugged and went out for a while anyway, hoping the exercise would do them some good.

The following morning, after breakfast, Harry finally decided it was high time to talk with Hermione about her attitude toward him and Ron. He found her, as usual, curled up in a chair in the living room with a large book in her lap. He marched into the room, sat down in a nearby chair, and looked steadily at Hermione.

After a few moments, Hermione looked up. "Oh, hi, Harry," she said, and went back to reading. After another minute Harry cleared his throat noisily, and she looked up again, this time slightly irritated. "What is it?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you," Harry replied, jumping right in. "What kind of bug have you got up your bum?"

Hermione jerked upright; the book slammed shut in her lap. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've been avoiding me and Ron for days now, even when we've tried being nice to you," Harry shot back. "You haven't said a dozen words to us in days."

"I don't know if you've been paying attention, Harry, but next Monday you go into the Ministry for your hearing," Hermione said, looking at him sternly. "You should be getting ready for that!"

"What's there to get ready for?" Harry spread his hands. "They're going to ask what happened, you and Ron'll tell them, and that'll be that."

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Harry, you know right well that's not how it's going to go. Something's going to foul it up – either Scrimgeour will have changed his mind and decided to prosecute you for the charges, or that Hopkirk woman will have been replaced with someone who wants to make an example of you."

"And what can I do about that, d'you think?" Harry asked belligerently.

"You can think about your defense!" Hermione picked up the book in her lap and shook it in his face. "But you haven't, have you? What d'you think I've been doing for the past few days?"

Harry looked at the title of the book Hermione was waving about. It was Ministry Procedures and Practices for Efficient Bureaucracy, Volume VIII: Courtroom Procedure. "You've been getting my defense ready?" he asked, surprised.

"Brilliant deduction, Sherlock," Hermione said acidly, letting the book fall back in her lap. "I'm also looking at what Ron and I will be up against. I think we're going to have a rougher time of it than you will."

"Because of what Mr. Weasley said?" Harry asked, remembering how happy Ron's father had been that the lady at the Improper Use of Magic Office thought that there would be no problems at the hearing, based on the details she'd heard from other sources.

"Partly," Hermione agreed. "But you have two people, both of age, who will testify that you did no magic in either of the situations where you're charged with it. On the other hand," she added matter-of-factly. "Ron and I can only testify for each other, and our testimony may seem to be self-serving."

Harry frowned. "But I can testify as well to what you did, Hermione. You and Ron both."

"Yes but you'll have to watch out when doing that," she cautioned him. "They may try to twist what you say or lead you into saying things other than what you mean."

"I had a taste of that two years ago," Harry agreed. "Fudge was trying to tie me up in a nice little bundle and throw me into the dustbin. I was lucky Dumbledore was there."

Harry remembered how elated he had felt when Dumbledore had strode into Courtroom Ten just as his hearing began, even though the Wizengamot had changed the time and venue of the hearing at the last moment. Even though Dumbledore had never looked directly at him (Harry learned later that he was afraid of Voldemort using Harry against him), Harry had been heartened to have him there, on his side, helping him.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I wish he could be there next Monday." A silence fell after she said this; Hermione seemed uncomfortable that she'd brought it up.

"So do I," Harry said, with a quiet smile. Hermione brightened at this; Harry pointed at the book on her lap. "Tell me your plan."

She did. All the information she'd absorbed in the past few days gushed out of her as she detailed strategies both for Harry's defense and her and Ron's. She'd worked out an entire list of questions they might be asked, about whether they were aware of the Muggles around them, what their intentions were at the time they did magic, and whether they had chosen spells that minimized Muggle knowledge of magic itself, should an Obliviate spell prove to be untenable.

Before long Harry's head was spinning from all the ideas being jammed into it. "Whoa," he said, when she finally finished. "Sounds like you've thought of just about everything."

"Just about everything?" Hermione's question had an edge to it. "Do you think I've forgotten anything?"

"I dunno about that," Harry admitted. "But what happens if they don't play fair at the Ministry?"

Hermione looked nonplussed. "What d'you mean? They have to do things fair at the Ministry!"

"Yeah, it was really fair of them to send us Umbridge, wasn't it?" Harry said pointedly.

"Alright, your point," she admitted. "But if they do anything dodgy we can appeal the decision, unless it's a full court hearing, and then we'll be before the entire Wizengamot – it'll be a lot harder to pull anything in front of them, as long as we speak up and don't let them override normal procedure."

Ron walked into the room at that moment, saw the two of them and said, "Oy, what's up?" Hermione launched into retelling her battle plan for the Ministry, her coolness toward Ron now forgotten. Harry didn't even mind listening to it all over, he was just happy they were talking again.