Chapter 4: War Council in the Cauldron

While Ron and Hermione were meeting together in secret, Harry and the other Phoenixes were outside of the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley. They were grumbling about how their friend had yet to show up.

"Maybe the Dementors got him," worried Ernie MacMillian.

"If he doesn't get here soon, Tom's gonna close up shop," added Seamus.

"Ron's not the only one who's running behind," Neville reminded everyone. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say Draco played us when he said he and his buddies would be here."

"I'll bet he's scared," Collin proclaimed triumphantly. Nobody immediately concurred, so he turned to Harry. "Whatcha think, Harry? Harry?"

Not even the Phoenixes' leader answered as he stared at a point off in the distance. Two figures on broomsticks were approaching. Kingsley and Deputy Head Daedulus came into view.

"Oi, Potter! What are you and your mates doing loitering out here? Dance is long over. Go home, why don't you?" Kingsley hollered.

Harry pretended to be polite. "But, we can't go home, sir. We don't get any love there. It's such a bad environment." Here, his mates had the good sense to concur.

Kingsley frowned, but did not press for an explanation. "Go home, kids. And don't let me catch any of you punks round here again, or else." With that, he and Daedulus flew off.

Harry seethed. He hated it when Aurors meddled in his business. But, the others tried to laugh it off. Ernie took a rolled up Daily Prophet and beat Collin over the head with it. "And don't let me catch any of you punks around here again," he threatened in a pretty good imitation of Auror Kingsley. The charade seemed to cheer Harry up and it also helped pass the time while waiting for the Dementors and Ron.

Soon after, Tom came out to shut down the pub. Though it would have been ideal to have Ron there by now to appeal to the old man, the Phoenixes still managed to convince him to stay open just a little while longer. Tom reluctantly agreed, knowing full well what the venue was being used for, but luckily, no one else was inside drinking at this late hour. As the gang took its seats, Tom made an appeal of his own.

"Please fellas, do you have to fight? I've had customers complain about the ruckus in the streets. You don't want the Ministry involved, do you?"

"Screw the Ministry!" Dean told Tom. "They got better things to worry about, hunting down the last of those damn Death Eaters. And yet, we still got Shacklebolt and Diggle on our case. They should just beat it!"

Tom said nothing more. Moments later, the bell over the door jingled to signal new arrivals. Harry looked up and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Didn't think you were gonna show," he told Draco.

Draco mockingly bowed in his direction. "Wouldn't miss the chance to have it out with little Saint Potter," he drawled. "Let the Council begin."

Everyone pushed two tables together and grabbed a chair.

"Okay, first up, location." Harry offered up.

"The river. Thames." Cormac suggested.

"Too open," Neville shot it down. "Forest of Dean?"

"Too dense," Blaise pointed out.

"I know," said Seamus. "How about the ballcourts under the highway bridge? There's still enough space, but it's concealed so our nosy Auror friends won't know to look there."

"Highway bridge it is," Draco ruled.

"Next up: weapons," Harry said.

There was a tense silence here. No one seemed to know immediately what was appropriate. Though no one had to say it, this was to be the rumble of all rumbles, so much thought was necessary. The decision on what to use for weapons had to be the right one. Finally, the gangs each offered a suggestion in a rapid, back-and-forth succession.

"Wands."

"Knives."

"Bats."

"Guns."

"Hammers."

The screechy sound of chairs pushing back could be heard as both gangs leapt at each other, ready to fight then and there over the simple disagreement of what they should fight with. Thankfully, Harry motioned for everyone to freeze and sit. At that moment, Ron rushed into the pub.

"Ron! There you are, mate. Come here, we're trying to decide what weapons to use for the rumble." Harry said, quickly filling him in.

Ron goggled at him. "Who needs weapons? Who needs a rumble?"

Everyone stared at him. "What ails you, mate?" asked Neville.

Ron was about to say, 'The most beautiful girl I've ever known,' but stopped when he caught Draco staring at him, a chilling sneer on the Slytherin's face. He clearly remembered Ron as the boy who had kissed Hermione at the dance.

"What I mean to say is… you all are chickens. Who needs weapons and a rumble when you can have a good ol' fist-fight?" He turned to Harry, hoping someone would back up his idea. "Come on, Harry. Whaddaya say? A nice fist-fight, one-on-one. I helped you by coming to the dance tonight. You should return the favor."

Harry briefly pondered the proposition, then agreed. "You in, Draco?"

Draco nodded. "On one condition," and he pointed at Ron. "I get to duke it out with Weasel-bean over here."

Harry, clearly also remembering the incident from the dance, balked. "No way. Your challenger will be picked at my discretion. You fight whomever I choose or we don't fight at all. Besides, Ron won't be there anyway. He normally works late here at the pub after closing time." That last part was a lie, but both Ron and Tom were smart enough to not challenge it.

For a moment, Draco looked as though he wasn't going to cave either, but just then, Goyle came running over from the window. "Diggle's coming this way! Ditch the evidence!"

The gangs scrambled to make it appear as though they were hanging out together, drinking butterbeers and playing Exploding Snap. Moments later, Diggle walked into the pub.

"Well, isn't that nice? Instead of fighting, you're playing cards with each other. I'm proud of you boys," Diggle said, although something in his gaze left the boys wondering if their latest charade was a success. The fake calm was shattered as Diggle suddenly slammed his fist down on a table. "Alright, party's over! This joint should be closed by now anyway! Malfoy, you and your pure-blood robots get the hell out of here!"

Draco knew better than to mix it up with a Ministry official, especially an Auror. He and the other Dementors filed out, whistling the Ministry of Magic anthem as they went.

As soon as the door had slammed shut behind them, Diggle turned to the Phoenixes. "Alright, boys…now I know you wasn't here all night playing Exploding Snap. Where's the rumble gonna be, huh?" It took all of Harry's power to not give away anything on his face. Diggle continued. "Come on, fellas, I'm on your side! You honestly think I'd support those stuck-up elitists, those so-called Dementors? Now, listen, if you tell me where this thing's going down, then I'll make an appearance. I'll help you fight 'em off myself, shall I? You won't even go to prison."

All of the boys were thinking the same thing: could Diggle really mean that? Would he really come into the fight on their side? But, no, it was safer to not trust a Ministry official, so no one said a word. Even Ron was silent, for he didn't want to upset his best mate.

When the silence became almost unbearable, Diggle went off on a rant again. "I can't believe you bums! I offer my help and still you sit mum! You're nothing but a bunch of punks, I don't care what you did during the Second War! And your parents were no better." He circled the gang, now singling some out individually. "Your daddy still drown himself in this joint, Finnegan?" he asked. Seamus didn't respond. "How's the action on your mum's mattress, Dean?" Dean also remained silent, but his hands were shaking from anger. "Bet it's never cold," Diggle added as an afterthought.

That did it. Dean suddenly lunged at Diggle in a rage and Diggle whipped out his wand. Harry and Neville pounced on their friend and practically had to hold him down to restrain him. Diggle just chuckled. "Fine, let the Dementors trash you, but don't come crying to me when they do!" He marched out of the Leaky Cauldron in a huff. When he was safely out of sight, Harry and Neville released Dean.

"I swear, if I ever see that git again, I'm gonna stick my wand up his bloody-"

"Everybody knock it off!" Harry roared. "Forget Diggle, we got bigger fish to fry. Now let's get ready so we don't get caught tomorrow night with our pants down!" The Phoenixes filed out, each thanking Tom for leaving the Cauldron open. Ron stayed behind.

"Promise me one thing, son." Tom asked Ron.

"Anything, Tom." Ron replied.

"Promise me you won't go to this little throw-down. I know as well as you do you don't work the late shift, but I wasn't about to say that in front of the Malfoy boy. Stay away, for your own good, no matter how close you are to Harry Potter."

Ron smiled. "Don't worry, Tom. You won't see me down there. I'll be spending tomorrow night with someone more important."

"Who?" Tom asked curiously.

"Hermione Jean Granger- the smartest, prettiest, most wonderful girl I've ever known!" he screamed, wanting the whole world to hear.

Tom nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning. "Hermione? Are you mad? Why, she's in tight with the Dementors- Malfoy protects her like a sister; she's the only Muggle-born they let near 'em! No wonder Malfoy was looking at you like that! Oh no, oh no…"

Ron just laughed. "Draco knows I kissed her at the dance tonight, Tom, but he doesn't know I'm seeing her! You won't tell him, will you?"

"Of course not, but just remember what I said. You be careful, Ronald Weasley, and you make sure your sweetheart is too!"

Ron nodded and bid Tom goodnight before exiting the pub. Tom stared after him. He couldn't shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot worse.