Chapter 17

Team Gryffindor

For a long time Harry stood, staring at the ashes of the Marauder's Map. He'd had the Map for almost four years, ever since Fred and George had given it to him just before the second Hogsmeade visit in his third year. It had been dead useful – he couldn't even count the number of times he'd pulled it out to check where someone was, or find his way around the castle in the dead of night. He'd used it quite heavily last year while trying to figure out what Draco Malfoy had been up to – if only he's been able to puzzle it out before Malfoy had let Death Eaters into the castle.

"We should get inside," Ron, who'd been standing behind him the entire time, muttered. Harry turned to him, but Ron looked about as unhappy as Harry felt. Jon was watching both of them, a somber expression on his face.

The ashes had stopped smoldering. Harry considered collecting them but decided that would be obsessive. Slowly he turned, facing the Fat Lady, and said, "Balaclava." The portrait had swung open and the three of them entered the common room, empty now at that late hour. Without a word, the three of them trudged up the stairway to their dormitories.

At least, Harry thought, one small comfort was that Snape did not keep the Map for himself. In fact, it may have been Snape's rage at recognizing the nicknames of Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and his father, James Potter, that goaded him to destroy it in the first place.

Losing the Marauder's Map had shown Harry something, however: he had lost his focus on what his real priorities should be. Worrying over duels with Malfoy, contests like the Vault at Gringotts, and whether Hermione and Ron were getting along with each other wasn't what he should be doing. He should be focused on finding Voldemort's Horcruxes, destroying them, and figuring out how to deal with Voldemort himself. He had to stop letting things of no consequence distract him and concentrate on what was important – finding a way to destroy the Horcruxes, and Voldemort himself.

The next morning after breakfast Harry, Ron and Jon reported to Snape's office for detention. Without a word, Snape led them down to the dungeons, where they entered the Potions classroom.

"Professor Slughorn," Snape said without preamble as they entered the room, "has requested that this classroom be given a thorough cleaning. Having seen some of the potions you've brewed," Snape gave Harry a withering stare, then turned to Ron. "And yours as well, I decided that this would be an appropriate detention for the three of you."

Snape pointed to a collection of cleaning supplies stacked in a nearby corner. "You will not use magic to clean the room. I will return at noon to view your progress." Again, without a word, he left.

The three set themselves to the task. Harry and Ron had both had detentions with Snape before; they knew the meticulousness with which he would judge their efforts. For his part, Jon worked tirelessly alongside them to render the Potions classroom as spotless as possible. By shortly before noon, they had the Potions classroom spotlessly clean.

However, it wasn't until nearly two p.m. before Snape returned to the classroom. He looked around, staring critically at every surface and making tch-tch'ing sounds almost every time he stopped to examine something. At last, however, he dismissed the three of them, but not before assigning them an additional essay on notable features of Hogwarts castle.

Harry and Ron raced back to Gryffindor Tower for their brooms, then out to the Quidditch pitch where Gryffindors and students from other houses waited for the Captain of the team to arrive and begin tryouts. With last year's tryouts in mind, Harry had resolved that this year, they would be handled in a much more controlled manner. When he and Ron arrived on the pitch, he saw there weren't nearly as many people waiting to try out as there'd been the year before. Unfortunately, this also cut down his chances to find good players. Luckily, all the current members of the Gryffindor team were present.

Harry immediately split everyone into two groups: those who intended to try out and those who were mere onlookers. He had the onlookers move back past the first three rows of the stands. For one awful moment he'd saw Neville Longbottom in the stands and well and was afraid he was going to try out. But Neville had gone with the onlookers, waving cheerfully at Harry as he sat next to Hermione in the stands. He then eliminated all first years (there were none) and non-Gryffindor students (all of them had moved up with the onlookers).

Next Harry divided everyone trying out into the groups of those trying out for Chasers, Beaters, and Keeper. None of the groups were very big; Harry saw that Ron was the only person sitting in the section for Keeper tryouts. He breathed a sigh of thanks that McLaggen had already graduated.

The Beaters being the largest group, Harry decided to try them first. He was glad to see Jimmy and Ritchie back; however, Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke were also present. Also, two surprise tryouts: Euan Abercrombie and Colin Creevy. As Harry watched, they seemed to be having a disagreement. He walked up to them and said, "Are you two sure you want to try out for Beater?"

They both started, but Abercrombie turned to Creevy and said loudly, "See? I told you he'd have it in for me!"

"That's so not true, Euan!" Creevy shouted back at him. "Harry's not like that at all, I've told you! You've been reading too much rubbish in the Prophet!"

"Er," Harry said. "Hold it. I'm just asking if you're sure you want to try out for a position where you swing a large bat at an iron ball that's flying at your head."

"Sure!" both boys said in unison, and Colin added, "I've been practicing a lot this summer, Harry! I've even got pictures to prove it! Do you want to see?"

"Let's just… have tryouts first, shall we?" Harry said. He paired off Jimmy and Ritchie against Jack and Andrew, respectively, wanting to gauge their abilities against the other. He'd save Abercrombie and Creevy for last, and pit each one against a winner of the first set of eliminations. Who knows, he thought dryly, one of them might surprise him.

But in the end the two current Beaters, Jimmy and Ritchie, outperformed Sloper and Kirke in Beater tryouts; they each consistently hit the Bludger they'd released back toward their opponent, while Sloper swung and missed a few times while Kirke just dodged the ball if didn't come right where he wanted it.

Creevy made a game effort, Harry had to admit, watching him try to return the Bludgers Jimmy hit toward him. A time or two he didn't hit it hard enough; it would stop and reverse course, flying back towards him, who began swinging the bat wildly, with both arms. Abercrombie fared little better; a small boy, ill-suited to swinging a heavy bat at the 10-inch iron Bludger, he swung several times at it even as he flinched away. Harry declared Jimmy and Ritchie his new Beaters. Sloper and Kirke stomped off the pitch muttering darkly about favoritism and rigged tryouts. Creevy and Abercrombie merely resumed their argument about Harry up in the onlookers section of the stands.

For the Chaser tryouts the group wasn't as large, but it was going to present an interesting problem for Harry since he needed three Chasers and had five students trying out, only one of whom he didn't already know. It meant that a couple of them might have their feelings hurt by not being chosen. Harry sighed inwardly; that was the chance one always took when trying out for something, he reflected.

Those trying out for Chaser were Ginny, Demelza, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, and a girl he didn't recognize, a pretty dark-haired girl with a shy smile and a slender build. When Harry asked her for her name she answered "Natalie McDonald."

"You haven't tried out before," Harry pointed out. "Why did you decide to try out this year?"

"I wasn't well enough during my second year," Natalie replied. "My Healer forbade me to do any strenuous activities until I was strong enough. I had a bad case of tadfoal pox." Seamus, who'd been sitting next to Natalie, gave a start and slid surreptitiously away from her.

"But I got better!" she added brightly. "I was cured the summer before my second year, but it let me very weak and I had loads of sessions with my Healer rebuilding my muscles. I finished a year ago last spring but I couldn't try out last year, either. I've been practicing Quidditch with my mates in my home town the last two summers."

She seemed very earnest. Harry nodded. "Alright, we'll all have a go here shortly. He paired off Ginny and Seamus, Demelza and Dean, and told Natalie she'd have her tryout with him. He watched the first two tryouts carefully, noting how well each person tossed and caught the Quaffle both in parallel flying, in pass-bys (that is, passing while flying by in the opposite direction, and in pass-backs (passing to a person directly behind you). Everyone made some difficult catches, especially since they were testing each other to see how far they could stretch to catch the Quaffle.

Harry went up with Natalie. She handled the ball well, throwing it to where Harry could easily catch it even though he gave her a few difficult ones to test her. She didn't handle the ball as well as Ginny did, but Harry was still impressed. She must've been practicing a lot in the last two years.

Landing, Harry had Natalie rejoin the other Chaser tryouts. He noticed that she sat next to Ginny and that they both began talking excitedly about how each of them did. Mulling that bit of information over, Harry saw a way to avoid some hard feelings between Dean and Seamus, who were both his roommates and good friends with each other, and with him, if one of them wasn't picked. Both Ginny and Demelza had done well, no one would argue with him there; it was the third choice could cause problems.

"For Chaser," Harry announced. "First spot goes to Ginny Weasley." There was a general shout and applause; the onlookers all approved of this choice. "Second to Demelza Robins," Harry continued. Again there was applause; as Harry had expected, both his first and second choices met with everyone's approval. "Third spot goes to – Natalie McDonald!"

Both Ginny and Demelza whooped. Natalie shrieked, while Dean and Seamus both slumped, disappointed. The three girls jumped up and began swinging each other around while the onlookers applauded. Taking advantage of the momentary celebration, Harry approached Dean and Seamus.

"Sorry, guys," Harry said, loud enough so only they would hear. "It was very close. She has a lot of heart, though," Harry added, glancing back at Natalie, still dancing with Ginny and Demelza.

"She does, aye," Seamus agreed glumly. Dean nodded as well.

"In case she has a relapse, though," Harry said, catching both their eyes. "Will you two be available if I need a replacement player this year?"

"Sure," Dean and Seamus both said simultaneously. "But," Seamus added, looking shrewdly at Harry. "Which one of us will you call on first?" They both waited expectantly for his answer.

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully, as if the question was difficult indeed. "That's too close to call, mates," he said finally. "I'll have to flip a coin when the time comes. You've both brilliant."

Both Dean and Seamus beamed at him.

"Quite a tryout, wasn't it," Ginny said to Harry a few minutes later as he finished stowing his robe in his locker. "You're becoming more like a real Quidditch Captain every day," she added with a teasing smile.

"Do you really think so?" Harry said in mock surprise, and Ginny laughed.

Her voice grew soft again. "Yes, I think so." Suddenly she turned and touched his cheek, and for a moment Harry felt the old thrill of her nearness. "I haven't had much of a chance to talk to you lately. I miss you."

"I know, we should do that sometime soon," Harry said, a ghost of a smile on his lips, and she kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"I'll take you up on that," she said, looking intently at him for several seconds. Then she grabbed her broom. "I've got to run," she said, "I've got a few things to check out in Hogsmeade."

"You can't go to Hogsmeade," Harry said. "You're not a seventh-year and it's not a Hogsmeade visit weekend."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry, come on. My brothers were Fred and George Weasley, for Merlin's sake! Even if the Map's gone, I still remember where the secret passages are. But," she added darkly, "I'd hate to have to tell either of them what Snape did – they are not going to be happy. I'll talk to you later." And she was gone.

Walking back toward Hogwarts, his broom slung over his shoulder, Harry pondered how to tell Fred and George what had happened to the Marauder's Map. They weren't likely to be happy about it, true, but they'd given it to Harry in his third year, nearly four years ago now. And they were no longer at Hogwarts anyway, so what did it matter?

Well, of course Harry could answer that, he told himself grimly. It would be letting Snape win. Neither Fred nor George would let that stand, he knew. And, as the person they had entrusted it to, Harry now felt an obligation to let them know what had happened. His mind made up, he ran into the castle and up Gryffindor Tower to his dormitory room.

It was deserted at this time of day, Harry saw on entering. Securing his broom away, he got out his Invisibility Cloak. Jon hadn't been in the common room, and no one had answered Harry's knocking at his dormitory door. In all likelihood he was still at the Shrieking Shack, if indeed he had gone there after leaving Rosemerta's. If Ron had been here he would have asked him to come along, but perhaps it was just as well; Ron didn't seem happy with either him or Jon at the moment. Harry dithered, not sure what to do, but the small voice in the back of his head said, nothing ventured, nothing gained. Harry made up his mind.

Donning the Cloak, Harry moved carefully down the stairway then across the common room to the wall beside the fireplace. No one was near him; the few Gryffindors who were around were either studying or engaged in conversation. To be safe, Harry pulled out his wand under the Cloak and pointed it at people nearby, casting Muffliato on them. Replacing his wand in his pocket, he put his hand on the wall and said, "Sudnallitit mauqnun sneimrod ocārd" under his breath. As before, a small section of the wall opened inward. Harry darted in quickly, pushing the section back in place quickly before someone noticed the opening.

He lit his wand and made his way down the long, spiraling staircase to the base of the Tower. Repeating the phrase at the outside entrance, Harry hurried over to the Whomping Willow where he tried Jon's wand-extending spell, watching with delight as the tip of his wand shot forward to press the knot, causing the Willow to freeze. Sliding into the small hole between the roots, Harry again made his way, crawling uncomfortably in the cramped passage, to the other end leading up into the Shrieking Shack.

Brushing dirt from his robe, hands and knees, Harry made his way cautiously to the room near the back where Jon had led them. In there he saw the door to Jon's secret room; Jon was almost certainly inside. Harry knocked softly.

"Come in, Harry," Jon's voice called. Harry walked in; Jon was standing at one of the benches, working. As he walked around the covered Corvette, Harry saw that Jon was fitting twigs into the tail of a broom, one very similar to the one he'd shown him and Ron a few days ago. "Sorry," Jon apologized. "I should have asked if you or Ron wanted to come with me or drop by after your Quidditch practice."

"Forget it," Harry said. "I thought tryouts would go on longer than they did."

"Why, did something happen?" Jon stopped fitting twigs into the tail and looked at him.

"No… I just… thought it would take longer than it did," Harry finally said, bending the truth only a bit. "How's it going here?"

"Pretty good," Jon said, nodding toward the broom on the bench in front of him. I'm mostly done with the second broom, I've just got the tail to put in and test, then add a few minor spells after I put on the anti-jinx varnish. After that dries for a day or so I'll put the polish on and that'll be the second one.

Harry came over to study the broom. It looked almost exactly like the one Jon had shown them earlier; the only difference he saw was that the tail section was not completely woven together.

"How long does it take to make one?" Harry asked, curious.

"If you have all the materials at hand, not very long; about, oh, six or seven hours per broom, not counting drying time. A lot of that is checking the aerodynamics – like this." Jon waved his wand and the broom lifted into the air a few inches; a wind began blowing across the broom and, as Harry watched, Jon held his wand in front of and just above the handle. A thin line of smoke from his wand streamed past the broom's shaft and tail. Jon carefully scrutinized the turbulence pattern across the tail – Harry could barely see a ripple as he moved the smoke stream below and to either side of the broom.

Satisfied that the broom's tail was streamlined, Jon waved the wand again and it settled back onto the countertop as the wind died away. He turned to Harry. "I'm guessing you didn't come here to watch me build racing brooms, did you?"

"No, I came to ask a favor."

"Really?" Jon said, looking interested. "Shoot."

"I want to go to Diagon Alley."

Jon studied him for a moment. "Tonight, I assume?" he asked, bemused.

"Yes," Harry nodded. At least Jon was taking him seriously, he thought. "I want to tell Fred and George, personally, that the Marauder's Map is destroyed."

"Oh, were they the ones who made it?"

"No, but they gave it to me. I feel responsible for letting Snape get hold of it. I should have refused to give it to him."

"I'm sure that wouldn't have stopped him from taking it."

"Probably not," Harry conceded. "But at least I wouldn't have just given it up to him."

Jon nodded. "Well, I'm not saying no, but what other options do you have to get there?"

"I could get there in several ways, but your car is the only way to do it without a big chance of being detected by the Ministry. I could get there through the Floo Network, but they'll be keeping track of comings and goings that way. I could fly there on my broom, but it would be at least a six-hour flight one-way, and I'd have to leave outside of Hogwarts – there are enchantments to keep people from flying brooms into and out of the castle. And I could Apparate," he said finally, "but the truth is, I'd really like to see how your car flies."

"Well, I'm game if you are," Jon said. "But it's at least a two-and-a-half hour trip each way, plus however long we stay there. It could be midnight before we get back."

"We could probably sleep there tonight," Harry suggested. "Fred and George will let us, I expect. We could fly back tomorrow. It's not like Ron's going to report that we're missing." I hope he tells Hermione where I am, though, Harry added, to himself. She might wake the entire school looking for me if she doesn't know I'm gone.

Jon waved his wand at the Corvette and the covering slithered off, folded itself and floated onto a bare spot on a nearby countertop. Another wave and Harry heard the doors unlock. Jon got in the driver's door while Harry naturally took the passenger side.

Once inside, Harry studied the car's dashboard with great interest. At the moment the car looked quite normal, exactly like he'd expect a two-seater sports car to appear. In fact, it seemed almost cramped. In front of them was the usual steering wheel, a shifter and instrument dials and buttons. Directly in front of Harry was the glove box. There was another shifter between the seats, beside the gearshift, one that Harry couldn't fathom.

"Let's get going," Jon said. "But first –" he pushed a small black button with the symbol of an eye inscribed on it. The Corvette's clock, set in the dash between the two seats, went blank. Jon peered at it for several seconds. "No one around," he said to Harry with a smile, "so we can do this –" as he waved his wand over his shoulder. Harry turned around to watch the wall behind them open up, as it had before when he'd gone flying on Jon's broom.

"Oh, better do this too, just in case," Jon said, pushing another button on the dash, this one blue with the image of a cloak on it. Nothing seemed to happen, but Harry heard a sound like leaves blowing in the wind; Jon put the car in reverse and backed out into the Shrieking Shack's yard.

He waved his wand again and the opening in the Shack closed in front of them. "I have to get that automated," Jon said, almost to himself. "Or I'm going to go off sometime and leave it open."

"We're invisible right now," he said to Harry. "So even if someone in Hogsmeade or Hogwarts happens to glance up as we're leaving, they won't see anything unless they can see invisible objects. I don't think there are too many wizards around who can do that."

"I know a couple," Harry said remembering Mad-Eye Moody and Dumbledore. "Or at least one, now," he added, quietly.

"Let me show you how this works," Jon was saying. "You know how a normal car works, right?" Harry nodded. "Okay. Everything works the same in this car whether you're on the ground or in the air. You push the gas pedal –"

"The what pedal?" Harry asked.

"You'd say the petrol feed, I suppose," Jon said, pointing to the pedal under his right foot. "Push that to accelerate, this one to brake, and the clutch and gearshift to make the car go faster or slower, or in reverse. This shifter here –" he indicated the one next to the gearshift "— I added to control the pitch of the car. When it's here in the middle, the car is normal. If I pull it back, the car will go nose up; forward, it goes nose down. Pretty simple."

"I'll take your word for it," Harry grinned. It did seem more straightforward than the Weasleys' old Ford Anglia. Perhaps that had been due to Mr. Weasley's overall unfamiliarity with Muggle cars; virtually no magical folk other than Ministry Aurors drove vehicles, magical or not.

"Ready, then?" Jon asked. Without waiting for an answer he shifted into first and pressed the gas pedal. The car surged forward, pushing a startled Harry back into his seat, and rapidly gained speed. The Shrieking Shack was at the top of a small hill and the Corvette was headed downward toward a dilapidated old fence surround the property. Jon shifted into second and the Corvette leapt forward again, gaining momentum, heading straight for the fence now.

Just as Harry was sure Jon planned to crash right through the fence, he pulled back on the pitch lever and the car tilted upwards and soared into the air, clearing the fence and rising rapidly. Jon shifted again then put the car into a slight turn so that Harry could see down into the village of Hogsmeade as they rose above it.

It was quite a sight, the rows of stores and houses along the main road, High Street, with several side streets branching out from it. He'd never flown over Hogsmeade before; flying at the school was limited to the area near the Quidditch pitch. Being inside a car wasn't quite the same as broom flying, however, although it was a lot more comfortable.

Leveling out, Jon next pressed a blue button with several concentric circles and lines dividing it into eight sections. The clock face disappeared again, replaced by a flat black background with a white dot in the center, and Jon said, "The Leaky Cauldron, London." A small green dot appeared on the face, near the edge, below and to the right of the face's center. Jon banked right, turning until the dot was directly above the white one. He then said, "Autopilot, speed 250," and let go of the wheel.

"Well, that's it," he said, sitting back in the seat. "We'll be there in about two-and-a-half hours or so. D'you want something to drink while we're waiting?"

Jon conjured Harry a butterbeer and himself a can of something he called "pop," which seemed to be colored, flavored sparkling water. They chatted about the Corvette, brooms, and the House Quidditch teams for some time. Jon seemed to know a lot of things but he didn't say much about himself beyond what Harry already knew from before. The most he'd say about his childhood was that after his parents died his uncles had raised him in a Wizarding environment and that he began attending Merlin's, an eight-year school, when he was ten.

In what seemed like no time, but was actually almost two-and-a-half hours later, the outskirts of north London were coming into view. Jon took over the wheel again. "We could land on a street, become visible, and drive into London," he said to Harry, steering southward, "But I don't want to try driving on English roads just yet."

"You can aim for the Clock Tower, the Leaky Cauldron is north of that," Harry said.

"I've never heard of that," Jon said, looking at him blankly. "What's the Clock Tower?"

"You know," Harry said, goggling a bit at Jon's ignorance. "The big clock we have here in London? It's really famous. You might call it something else, though." He pointed off in the distance ahead of them. "See it, right there? Turn a little left. Yes, now it's dead on."

"Oh," Jon said, recognizing it at last. "Big Ben! Okay, I've got it."

"See the railway station over there?" Harry said, pointing. Jon nodded. "Okay, we want to follow the road to the right of it for a ways south. That'll take us to Charing Cross Road and the Leaky Cauldron."

Eventually they were stopped several hundred feet above where Harry estimated the Leaky Cauldron would be. As Harry wondered how they would land, Jon gripped the pitch lever and pressed his thumb down on top of it. "I thought about situations like this," he said, gently pushing on the lever. The car started to descend slowly, staying level. "It's vertical take-off and landing," he said with a smile. "We'll be landing in a few moments."

"Dunno where you're going to park, though," Harry said, looking out the window at the street below.

It was true: there was no place for them to park the car anywhere along the street near the Leaky Cauldron's entrance. They managed to find a spot on one of the small side roads, and Jon settled the car into the spot and turned off the cloak just as another car approached the spot, looking for parking. Harry watched the driver of the car eye them in wonderment as he went by, evidently trying to figure out where they came from.

They got out, locked the doors, and Jon inconspicuously passed his wand over it to activate the anti-theft systems. They then walked over to Charing Cross Road to where most people saw only a book store and record store standing side-by-side. To Harry and Jon, however, the grubby little shop front with the sign "Leaky Cauldron" above its door was clearly visible. They entered, finding the place filled with people drinking and engaged in various activities, from darts to wizard chess; there were even a few younger men in a booth playing Exploding Snap, to the annoyance of patrons around them. Harry waved to Tom, the bartender, and continued into the small courtyard out back where the entrance to Diagon Alley appeared after Harry tapped a particular brick three times with his wand. They passed through the entryway and up the street to number 93, Diagon Alley, where Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes stood.

"Harry!" Fred said as they entered. "What a surprise, I'd've expected you from the fireplace. And who's this?" he said, looking at Jon.

"Jonathan Crown, this is Fred Weasley, one of Ron's brothers."

"Hello, Fred," Jon said, and they shook hands.

"You must be the exchange student Ginny mentioned," Fred said, and Harry's ears perked up. Ginny had mentioned Jon to the twins? Why would she do that?

"Yes, I am," Jon nodded. "Ginny's mentioned you and your brother George as well."

"Harry!" George said, emerging from the back. "We were about to close up shop and grab a bite. Want to come along?"

"Yes," Harry said. "We have some things to talk about."

Ginny was right – both of the twins were very upset to hear about Snape's destruction of the Marauder's Map. They had found a café a short walk from Gringotts, one George mentioned that Bill and Fleur sometimes ate at for lunch.

What they were more interested in, however, was how he'd seemed to fool the Marauder's Map into not showing him outside the Gryffindor common room until it was too late. Harry had to admit that had him stumped as well.

"George and I tried a few things to fool it," Fred said between mouthfuls of food as they ate. "It always correctly identified us. Whatever Snape did, it must have been some pretty advanced spellwork."

"We never did figure it out," George mused. "The Map, I mean. How it was able to map an Unplottable area like Hogwarts."

"It can't have been that difficult," Harry said, taking another bite of his hamburger. "After all it was written by Lupin, Sirius and my dad when they were still students at Hogwarts."

"We tried to have a chat with Lupin about that once, when he was at the Burrow visiting Mum and Dad, but he didn't seem too interested in discussing it." George nicked a chip off of Fred's plate as the latter was watching a pretty young witch stroll by. "I'd think he'd be proud of it – four unqualified wizards coming up with magic like that."

"Yeah, that's something else, too," Fred pointed out, turning back to them. "I remember that their names on the heading of the map said, 'Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs' – if their names were in order of contribution, I wonder what Wormtail did to get second place."

"Maybe they used some other method to determine the order of their names," Harry said. He didn't quite like the implication that his father contributed least to the map. "Or maybe they just like how 'Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs' sounded."

"Maybe," Fred conceded. He hesitated a moment, and Harry saw his eyes flick momentarily to Jon before continuing. "By the way, Harry, there's something that we'd like to show you, if we have time, when we get back to the shop. It's business," he added.

Something in the way Fred said the word "business," along with George suddenly becoming quiet and attentive, made Harry think something was up. He glanced around; there was no one sitting near enough to eavesdrop. "Is it something to do with – with Voldemort?" he asked quietly.

Fred and George looked at each other, then at Jon, then Harry. "Well, it does," George admitted. "But I don't know if you want to discuss it out in the open like this. People can have long ears, you know," he said significantly.

"Jon knows about them," Harry said simply. "But you're right – we should probably wait to discuss this back at the shop."

They paid for the meals and walked quickly back to Fred and George's shop and up to the flat they shared above it. Fred put a kettle of water on the stove for tea, and soon they were seated around their kitchen table with steaming cups and a plate of cookies. Eating one, Harry smiled, remembering eating Hagrid's rock cakes in his cabin on the Hogwarts grounds; there had been a few times when he was hungry enough that even they tasted good.

"George and I have been considering what we can do to help you," Fred began, once they were all comfortable. Harry could tell he was being discrete in front of Jon – none of them knew enough about the American to speak completely freely in front of him.

But Jon had his own ideas as well. "It seems like the first question to ask about Voldemort is – is he really dead?"

"Many people think his death has been conclusively proven," George pointed out, "based on the findings published in the Daily Prophet in the weeks following the attack on the Longbottoms house in late July."

"And what do you think?" Jon asked, pointedly.

Neither Fred nor George answered him. "What do you think happened?" Harry asked Jon in return.

"I'm skeptical about his death," Jon answered immediately.

"Why?" Fred asked.

"Partly an intuition," Jon replied. "Something doesn't feel right about the story. And part of it is that the story seems so similar, in certain respects, to the story from sixteen years ago, when Harry's parents were killed and Voldemort disappeared.

"I find it curious that the same thing would happen a few months ago as did back then – Voldemort underestimating the sacrifice Mrs. Longbottom for her grandson Neville. Surely such an brilliant wizard could be so lacking in common sense."

"So what do you think has happened to Voldemort?" Harry asked.

"I have no idea," Jon shrugged, "beyond my relative certainty that he is not a ghost or a revenant.

"It is possible," Harry said seriously, "that if Voldemort actually died he might return as a ghost. Nearly Headless Nick told me that some wizards can leave an imprint of themselves upon the earth, like he did, especially if they are afraid of death for some reason."

"Most ghosts don't really understand what they're choosing when they choose to return," Fred said, just as quietly. "They are afraid to die, so much so that they choose to remain, attached to some place or some object, or even a person, until they choose to release their fear and accept whatever lies beyond this life."

"Voldemort is afraid of death" George continued. "But he also wants power – if merely being 'alive' were enough for him, it would have been a simple matter for him to create or choose a place for him to stay after he died – a 'Haunt.'"

"A Haunt?" Harry repeated the word. "What's that?"

"A Haunt," Fred replied, "is a location or an object that a wizard chooses, consciously or instinctively, to associate itself with in its ghostly state. The Haunt does not constrain the ghost – it is able to separate itself from its Haunt, sometimes over long distances and times."

"How did you come to learn about these things?" Harry inquired.

"We've been keeping our ears to the ground," Fred said in a light tone.

The four of them talked late into the evening, about Voldemort and his Death Eaters; all the while, Harry tried to keep the conversation steered away from ideas that would lead them toward the idea of Horcruxes or fragments of souls. Several times it seemed as if one or the other of them must conclude that Voldemort had somehow stored a fragment of his soul inside one object or another so he could maintain its presence on Earth in the case that his physical body died. But, neither Fred, George, or Jon made the leap to that conclusion.

Harry and Jon didn't return Hogwarts until early afternoon the next day, Sunday. They made their way back from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow, then walked casually back to the base of Gryffindor Tower where they followed the secret passageway back to the Gryffindor common room, entering under Harry's Invisibility Cloak and returning to Harry's dormitory.

Harry realized during the flight back to Hogwarts that Jon now knew nearly as much about Voldemort as he, Hermione and Ron did; the only thing he lacked was the knowledge that Voldemort had bound fragments of his soul into objects that would keep from permanent death as long as they existed. Still, he didn't plan on letting anyone else in on that secret; it would remain with Harry and his two best friends.

"Thanks for taking me," he told Jon once they'd removed the Invisibility Cloak. "It was interesting talking with you, Fred and George about ghosts and such."

"It was," Jon concurred. "In fact, I'm going to do some more research in the Library," he said, moving to the door of Harry's dormitory room. "I'll find you all tonight during dinner if not before." With a wave he was gone.