A/N Really need to update more ... I was looking at the gaps between each chapter. Anyway, only 6 exams left, then I'm home free for summer. Thanks for all the reviews so far! It keeps me going :) Hope you like the chapter - don't forget to leave a review! xxx
Chapter Sixteen
In the Hog's Head
Hermione decided to forgo talking to Harry about the Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons for two weeks to let him cool off. During that time they had been given even more homework, they'd vanished their mice in Transfiguration (Amara and Hermione had been given kittens by now) and apparently, according to Fred and George, Ron was finally getting better at Quidditch.
She decided to talk about it again when they were in the library (Harry couldn't shout if he wanted to) looking up potion ingredients for Snape.
"I was wondering," Hermione said suddenly, "whether you'd thought any more about Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry."
" 'Course I have," said Harry grumpily. "Can't forget it, can we, with that hag teaching us —"
"I meant the idea Amara, Ron and I had" — Ron and Amara both cast her an alarmed, take-it-back-now! threatening kind of look; she frowned at them — "oh, all right, the idea I had, then — about you teaching us." Harry did not answer at once.
"Well," he said slowly after a pause. "yeah, I — I've thought about it a bit."
"And?" said Hermione eagerly.
"I dunno," said Harry, playing for time. He looked up at Ron and Amara.
"I thought it was a good idea from the start," said Ron and Amara nodded, keen to get involved now that Harry didn't yell straight away that it was a stupid idea.
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"You did listen to what I said about a load of it being luck, didn't you?"
"Yes, Harry," said Hermione gently, "but all the same, there's no point pretending that you're not good at Defence Against the Dark Arts, because you are. You were the only person last year who could throw off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can't, Jesse says that you can do loads more than he can, and he's already graduated."
"Well, what do you think? Will you teach us?" Hermione said to Harry.
"Just you, Amara and Ron, yeah?"
"Well," said Hermione, now looking a mite anxious again. "Well . . . now, don't fly off the handle again, Harry, please. . . . But I really think you ought to teach anyone who wants to learn. I mean, we're talking about defending ourselves against V-Voldemort — oh, don't be pathetic, Ron — it doesn't seem fair if we don't offer the chance to other people."
Harry considered this for a moment, then said, "Yeah, but I doubt anyone except you two would want to be taught by me. I'm a nutter, remember?"
"I think you'd be surprised how many would," Amara said absent-mindedly as she flicked through a potions book.
"Look," Hermione leaned toward Harry "you know the first weekend in October's a Hogsmeade weekend? How would it be if we tell anyone who's interested to meet us in the village and we can talk it over?"
"Why do we have to do it outside school?" said Ron.
"Because," said Hermione, returning to the diagram of the Chinese Chomping Cabbage she was copying, "I don't think Umbridge would be very happy if she found out what we were up to."
Hermione roped Amara and Ron into helping them find people as well.
"So, we'll obviously get the obvious people," Hermione told them when Harry wasn't there. "Fred, George, the rest of the Quidditch Team, Ginny, Neville, that Luna Lovegood … Ernie and Hannah, you know the crowd?"
"Ethan and his friends will want to join," Amara nodded. "And Tessie too."
"You want a first-year to learn defence?" Hermione looked surprised.
"What, d'you think Voldemort's going to let her off?" Amara snapped defensively. "Of course I want to!"
"OK," Hermione looked rather taken aback.
Over the next few days, Amara riled up a fair few people. First, she went to Fred, George and Lee Jordan, because she knew they'd react well.
"Harry's teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts," she whispered to them at breakfast one day, "Care to join?"
"Yes," Fred said immediately.
Amara grinned. "Knew you guys would, we're meeting in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade – don't let Umbridge find out, yeah?"
"This is going to be great!" Lee grinned.
Next she found Ginny, who in turn said she'd bring Michael Corner, her boyfriend, and a few friends. Hermione went to see the Hufflepuffs, including Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.
Hermione also collected Neville, Dean, Lavender, Parvati and her sister Padma, Cho and the Creevey brothers. Amara told Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell as well as Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw. It seemed to be very popular among them, and Amara told her brother, Eddie, Piper and Flick, who were just as excited to be part of it.
Amara also remembered to tell her sister, who was disappointed that she couldn't come to Hogsmeade to be in the meeting, but promised that she'd be at the meetings with Aubrey and Joey.
There was another problem when the Hogsmeade trip came closer: Harry worried that Sirius would still come to see them as a dog, even though they told him not to.
"Well, you can't blame him for wanting to get out and about," said Ron. "I mean, he's been on the run for over two years, hasn't he, and I know that can't have been a laugh, but at least he was free, wasn't he? And now he's just shut up all the time with that lunatic elf."
Hermione scowled at Ron, but otherwise ignored the slight on Kreacher.
"The trouble is," she said to Harry, "until V-Voldemort — oh for heaven's sake, Ron — comes out into the open, Sirius is going to have to stay hidden, isn't he? I mean, the stupid Ministry isn't going to realise Sirius is innocent until they accept that Dumbledore's been telling the truth about him all along. And once the fools start catching real Death Eaters again it'll be obvious Sirius isn't one . . . I mean, he hasn't got the Mark, for one thing."
"I don't reckon he'd be stupid enough to turn up," said Ron bracingly. "Dumbledore'd go mad if he did and Sirius listens to Dumbledore even if he doesn't like what he hears."
When Harry continued to look worried, Hermione said, "Listen, Amara and I have been sounding out people who we thought might want to learn some proper Defence Against the Dark Arts, and there are a couple who seem interested. We've told them to meet us in Hogsmeade." Amara nearly snorted at the word "couple". There were at least thirty of them.
"Right," said Harry vaguely.
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione said quietly. "You've got enough on your plate without Sirius too."
Harry and Ron were doing better at keeping up to date with their homework now. Amara and Hermione always managed to keep on top of it, but Ron and Harry still were a long way off completing all of it.
On the day of the Hogsmeade visit, they lined up in front of Filch, noticing the nice, sunshine outside, even though it was rather breezy. Filch was matching the names with the list he had, and it was taking ages.
When Harry reached Filch, the caretaker gave a great sniff as though trying to detect a whiff of something from Harry. It was very peculiar, and she and Ron exchanged amused glances when he let them all through.
"Er — why was Filch sniffing you?" asked Ron, as he, Amara, Harry, and Hermione set off at a brisk pace down the wide drive to the gates.
"I suppose he was checking for the smell of Dungbombs," said Harry with a small laugh. "I forgot to tell you, when I was sending a letter to Sirius, Filch came barging in demanding to see the letter. He said something about being "tipped off" about Dungbombs or something."
"He said he was tipped off you were ordering Dungbombs? But who had tipped him off?" Hermione said in interest.
"I dunno," said Harry, shrugging. "Maybe Malfoy, he'd think it was a laugh."
They walked between the tall stone pillars topped with winged boars and turned left onto the road into the village, the wind whipping their hair into their eyes. Amara, who had the longest hair, kept pushing it back in annoyance.
"Malfoy?" said Hermione, very sceptically. "Well . . . yes . . . maybe . . ."
And she remained deep in thought all the way into the outskirts of Hogsmeade.
"Where are we going anyway?" Harry asked. "The Three Broomsticks?"
"Oh — no," said Hermione, coming out of her reverie. Amara didn't know what she was thinking about and knew better to ask by now. "no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard."
Zonko's Joke Shop was crowded, as per usual, and Amara saw, unsurprisingly, Fred, George and Lee, but was more surprised when she saw them laughing with Ethan, Eddie, Piper and Flick, all of them carrying things they wanted to buy.
They walked past the post office too, and went down a side street which led to the Hog's Head. The sign was of a wild boar's severed head leaking blood onto the white cloth around it. If was rather disgusting as it creaked overhead. They walked to the door and hesitated before going in.
"Well, come on," said Hermione slightly nervously. Harry led the way inside.
If there was a health check in the Hog's Head, it would have been shut down immediately. It stunk of goats as soon as they walked in to the one-roomed bar, and the windows were so dirty very little sunlight could filter through, making them rather pointless indeed.
The floor was worse as it felt like it was actually mud and the occupants of the bar were not better off. There was a man with dirty grey bandages wrapped around his head, but was still drinking a fiery substance; a couple of people from Yorkshire (their accents were very pronounce) were wearing black hoods by the window; there was a witch with a long black veil that only showed her toes.
Amara tried not to scrunch her nose up in distaste as she crossed to the bar with the others. It reminded her of Grimmuald Place and that was not a happy thought. Harry didn't seem to like it either - he suggested the witch was Umbridge in disguise.
"Umbridge is shorter than that woman," Hermione said quietly. "And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, Harry, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out-of-bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing."
"No," said Harry dryly, "especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?"
The barman sidled toward them out of a back room. He was a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard. He was tall and thin and matched the inn quite well. "What?" he grunted at them, as though their presence was annoying.
"Four butterbeers, please," said Hermione.
The man reached beneath the counter and pulled up four very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slammed on the bar.
"Eight Sickles," he said.
"I'll get them," said Harry quickly, passing over the silver. The other three murmured their thanks as they turned and decided where to sit. When the barman had put the money in the till Amara, Harry, Ron, and Hermione retreated to the farthest table from the bar and sat down, looking around, while the man in the dirty grey bandages rapped the counter with his knuckles and received another smoking drink from the barman.
"You know what?" Ron murmured, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. "We could order anything we liked in here, I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try firewhisky —"
"Now that would be entertaining —" Amara grinned.
"You — are — a — prefect," snarled Hermione.
"Oh," said Ron, the smile fading from his face. "Yeah . . ."
"I'm not," Amara muttered but Hermione glared at her.
"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked, wrenching open the rusty top of his butterbeer and taking a swig. Amara peeled the lid off hers and rubbed the too carefully free of non-existent grime before taking a careful swig herself.
"Just a couple of people," Hermione repeated, checking her watch and then looking anxiously toward the door. "I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh look, this might be them now —"
The door of the pub had opened. A thick band of dusty sunlight split the room in two for a moment and then vanished, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people.
Everyone came in one after another - Cho came in with one of her friends that Amara didn't know the name of - a tall blonde boy came in following Ginny who Amara thought was a Hufflepuff - Dennis Creevey had somehow gotten into Hogsmeade with his brother and bringing up the rear was Amara's brother and friends with Fred, George and Lee, all of them laughing about something.
"A couple of people?" said Harry hoarsely to Hermione. "A couple of people?"
"Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular," said Hermione happily. "Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?"
The barman had frozen in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looked as though it had never been washed. Possibly he had never seen his pub so full.
"Hi," said Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly. "Could we have . . . twenty-nine butterbeers, please?"
The barman glared at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he had been interrupted in something very important, he started passing up dusty butterbeers from under the bar.
"Cheers," said Fred, handing them out. "Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these. . . ."
Everyone reached into their coats to retrieve the coins as everyone was passed a butterbeer.
"What have you been telling people?" Harry said in a low voice to Hermione. "What are they expecting?"
"I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say," said Hermione soothingly; but Harry continued to look at her so furiously that she added quickly, "You don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first."
"Hi, Harry," said Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite Harry.
Harry seemed to force a smile whilst everyone else took their seats too.
Cho was on Ron's right with her friend, Ethan sat next to Amara whilst everyone else sat around them looking eagerly at Harry.
"Er," said Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. "Well — er — hi."
The group focused its attention on her instead, though eyes continued to dart back regularly to Harry.
"Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea — I mean" — Harry had thrown her a sharp look — "I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us" — (Hermione's voice became suddenly much stronger and more confident) — "because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts" —
"Hear, hear," said Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looked heartened — "well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands."
She paused, looked sideways at Harry, and went on, "And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells —"
"You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too though, I bet?" said Michael from his place next to Ginny.
"Of course I do," said Hermione immediately. "But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defence because . . . because . . ." She took a great breath and finished, "Because Lord Voldemort's back."
The reaction was always going to be amusing slightly. Cho's friend shrieked and slopped butterbeer down herself, Terry Boot gave a kind of involuntary twitch, Padma Patil shuddered, and Neville gave an odd yelp that he managed to turn into a cough. All of them turned to Harry.
"Well . . . that's the plan anyway," said Hermione. "If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to —"
"Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?" said the blond Hufflepuff who Amara didn't know in a rather aggressive voice.
"Well, Dumbledore believes it —" Hermione began.
"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," said the blond boy, nodding at Harry.
"Who are you?" said Ron rather rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," said the boy, "and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back."
"Look," said Hermione, intervening swiftly, "that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about —"
"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry.
"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he asked, looking Zacharias straight in the face. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."
The whole group seemed to have held its breath while Harry spoke.
Zacharias, the idiot that he seemed to be, said dismissively, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know —"
"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone I can't help you," Harry said. He glanced at Amara. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, you might as well clear out."
He cast an angry look in Hermione's direction.
"So," said Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. "So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet, and where we're going to —"
"Is it true," interrupted Susan Bones, "that you can produce a Patronus?"
There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.
"Yeah," said Harry slightly defensively.
"A corporeal Patronus?" Susan said.
"Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?" Harry asked.
Susan smiled.
"She's my auntie," she said. "I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Blimey, Harry!" said Lee, looking deeply impressed. "I never knew that!"
"Mum told Ron not to spread it around," said Fred, grinning at Harry. "She said you got enough attention as it was."
"She's not wrong," mumbled Harry and a couple of people, including Amara, laughed.
"And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year. . . ."
"Er — yeah, I did, yeah," said Harry.
Justin Finch-Fletchley whistled, the Creevey brothers exchanged awestruck looks, and Lavender Brown said "wow" softly.
"And in our first year," said Neville to the group at large, "he saved that Philological Stone —"
"Philosopher's," hissed Hermione.
"Yes, that, from You-Know-Who," finished Neville.
Everyone was staring at Harry now, deeply impressed like Lee had been.
"And that's not to mention," said Cho, "all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . . ."
There was a murmur of impressed agreement around the table.
"Look," Harry said and everyone fell silent at once, "I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff. . . ."
"Not with the dragon, you didn't," said Michael Corner at once. "That was a seriously cool bit of flying. . . ."
"Yeah, well —" said Harry.
"And nobody helped you get rid of those dementors this summer," said Susan Bones.
"No," said Harry, "no, okay, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is —"
"Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?" said Zacharias Smith.
"Here's an idea," said Ron loudly, before Harry could speak, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
Zacharias flushed slightly as Ron and Amara glared at him.
"Well, we've all turned up to learn from him, and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it," he said.
"That's not what he said," snarled Fred.
"Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?" inquired George, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
"Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this," said Fred.
Amara snorted but interrupted quickly.
"Does everyone want these lessons from Harry?"
There was a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folded his arms and said nothing, though perhaps this was because he was too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in George's hand which looked deadly.
"Right," said Hermione, looking relieved that something had at last been settled. "Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week —"
"Hang on," said Angelina, "we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."
"No," said Cho, "nor with ours."
"Nor ours," added Zacharias, and Amara remembered that he was a played on the Quidditch team.
"I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone," said Hermione, slightly impatiently at the talk of Quidditch, "but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters —"
"Well said!" barked Ernie Macmillan. "Personally I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our O.W.L.s coming up!"
He looked around at them all.
"I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively pre- vent us from using defensive spells —"
"We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione, "is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry."
Nearly everybody looked stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who piped up, "Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army."
"What?" said Harry, but Amara had a feeling this was just Luna.
"Yes, he's got an army of heliopaths," said Luna solemnly.
"No, he hasn't," snapped Hermione.
"Yes, he has," said Luna.
"What are heliopaths?" asked Neville, looking blank.
"They're spirits of fire," said Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looked madder than ever. "Great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of —"
"They don't exist, Neville," said Hermione tartly.
"Oh yes they do!" said Luna angrily.
"I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?" snapped Hermione.
"There are plenty of eyewitness accounts, just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you —"
"Hem, hem," said Ginny in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people looked around in alarm and then laughed. "Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and get Defence lessons?"
"Yes," said Hermione at once, "yes, we were, you're right. . . ."
"Well, once a week sounds cool," said Lee Jordan.
"As long as —" began Angelina annoyingly.
"Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch," said Hermione in a tense voice. "Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet. . . ."
This was rather more difficult; the whole group fell silent.
"Library?" suggested Katie Bell after a few moments.
"I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library," said Harry.
"Maybe an unused classroom?" said Dean.
"Yeah," said Ron, "McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard. . . ."
"Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere," said Hermione after no one else said anything. "We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting."
She rummaged in her bag and produced parchment and a quill, then hesitated, rather as though she was steeling herself to say something.
"I-I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think," she took a deep breath, "that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge — or anybody else — what we're up to."
Fred reached out for the parchment - winking at Amara whilst he did so - and cheerfully put down his signature, George, Lee, Ethan, Eddie, Piper and Flick followed suit. However a few people did not like the idea.
"Er . . ." said Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that Eddie was shoving in his face. "Well . . . I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is."
But Ernie was looking rather hesitant about signing too. Hermione raised her eyebrows at him.
"I — well, we are prefects," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found . . . well, I mean to say . . . you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out . . ."
"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.
"I — yes," said Ernie, "yes, I do believe that, it's just . . ."
"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" said Hermione testily.
"No. No, of course not," said Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. "I — yes, of course I'll sign."
Nobody raised objections after Ernie, but Cho's friend seemed rather out at having to sign, and Amara wondered why Cho didn't bring a different friend with her because this one was irritating. Hermione took the parchment back and slipped it carefully into her bag once everyone had signed the parchment. There was an odd feeling in the group now. It was as though they had just signed some kind of contract.
"Well, time's ticking on," said Fred briskly, getting to his feet. "George, Lee, and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later."
Ethan said something about Honeydukes and Eddie, Flick and Piper looked eager and followed him out the door swiftly.
The group left in twos and threes until no one was left except Amara, Harry, Ron and Hermione.
"Well, I think that went quite well," said Hermione happily, as she, Amara, Harry, and Ron walked out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later, Harry and Ron still clutching their bottles of butterbeer.
"That Zacharias bloke's a wart," said Ron, who was glowering after the figure of Smith just discernible in the distance.
"I don't like him much either," admitted Hermione, "but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really — I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny —"
Ron, who had been draining the last few drops from his butterbeer bottle, gagged and sprayed butterbeer down his front.
"He's WHAT?" said Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef. "She's going out with — my sister's going — what d'you mean, Michael Corner?"
"Ginny told them what was going on - I might've told Terry if she hadn't -" Amara said.
"When did this — when did she —?"
"They met at the Yule Ball and they got together at the end of last year," said Hermione composedly. They had turned into the High Street and she paused outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there was a handsome display of pheasant-feather quills in the window. "Hmm . . . I could do with a new quill."
She turned into the shop. Amara, Harry and Ron followed her.
"Which one was Michael Corner?" Ron demanded furiously.
"The dark one," said Hermione.
"I didn't like him," said Ron at once.
"What a surprise," Amara said to Hermione.
"But," said Ron, following Hermione along a row of quills in copper pots, "I thought Ginny fancied Harry!"
Hermione looked at him rather pityingly and shook her head. "Ginny used to fancy Harry, but she gave up on him months ago. Not that she doesn't like you, of course," she added kindly to Harry while she examined a long black-and-gold quill.
"So that's why she talks now?" Harry asked Hermione. "She never used to talk in front of me."
"Exactly," said Hermione. "Yes, I think I'll have this one. . . ."
Amara was examining a quill of her own and decided to buy it too - all hers were becoming slightly dog-chewed.
She went up to the counter and handed over thirteen Sickles and three Knuts, whilst Hermione turned around after paying for hers and found Ron still breathing down her neck.
"Ron," she said severely as she turned and trod on his feet, "this is exactly why Ginny hasn't told you she's seeing Michael, she knew you'd take it badly. So don't harp on about it, for heaven's sake."
"What d'you mean, who's taking anything badly? I'm not going to harp on about anything . . ."
Ron continued to chunter under his breath all the way down the street. Hermione rolled her eyes at Amara and Harry.
Ron was still harping on about how bad Michael Corner was, so Amara told him she'd shove him back into the Hog's Head and make him live there if he didn't shut up.