The Daily Prophet

Saturday, July 29th, 1995

Bulgarian Quidditch star Victor Krum makes a surprise transfer to Britain's Puddlemere United!

In a move that has shocked the Quidditch world, Victor Krum, following his spectacular, but ultimately unsuccessful bid for the Quidditch World Cup last year and his impressive performance in the Triwizard Tournament, has sacrificed an almost certain victory with his previous team in the Carpathian League and a large cash bonus by buying out the remainder of his contract and signing on with Puddlemere United. Puddlemere have been league champions on many occasions, but have performed poorly in recent years, finishing in the bottom half of the league for the last six seasons. Puddlemere manager, Philbert Deverill, spoke positively of his new Seeker.

"We're very happy to have Krum join us here at Puddlemere. Who knows? Maybe we'll be able to get a Snitch catch next season."

There has been some speculation that Krum's decision was influenced by his experience at Hogwarts during the last school year. He reportedly had a fierce rivalry with Harry Potter, both in and out of the tasks. Or perhaps this move is due to Krum's romantic interests. For more information about Krum's potential partners, turn to page 8…

Ron thumbed through the paper, an eyebrow raised. "Huh," he said. "You're in the paper, Fleur."

Fleur looked at Ron over the top of her copy of the French magical newspaper. "I'm in the paper? Why?"

"Have you heard that Krum is moving to Britain? Apparently, that you've taken a job in London has entered gossip and they're presenting the possibility that you and Krum struck up a secret relationship during the tournament and are both moving to Britain in order to continue your secret dalliance."

Fleur sent an incredulous look at the paper. "Surely at least one of their reporters 'as a child or younger sibling currently at 'Ogwarts. Doesn't everyone in the school know that I'm dating you and Krum is dating 'Ermione?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure how the employees at the Prophet manage to tie their shoelaces together, let alone publish a paper everyday. I think that reporting anything accurately is a little beyond their capabilities."

They were currently relaxing at Fleur's family's large and impressive house for a day before Ron would take a Portkey back to London and get picked up by his dad. Matis received a number of European newspapers everyday, including the Prophet and Ron and Fleur were catching up on the news in one of the smaller lounges in the house. Well, they were also hiding from Gabrielle, who was determined to monopolise as much of Fleur's time as possible.

Ron directed a pawn to move forwards on the chessboard between them. "What will you actually be doing for the Goblins?" he asked.

Fleur folded up her own paper and leaned closer to the chessboard, examining the new position. "I'll be part of their cursebreaking division," she said. "I won't be going out to any of the sites, but I'll 'elp by researching possible locations and removing curses from artefacts that have been recovered. As well as managing the logistics for the cursebreaking teams, travel permits, Portkeys, supplies and so on."

"Sounds like a lot," Ron replied.

"It is," Fleur said, grimacing. "It may not be as glamorous a job as I might 'ave wanted, but it'll certainly keep me busy."

"Nobody'll be able to say that you're just a pretty face?"

Fleur hummed in agreement as she sent a bishop out into the centre of the board. "It pays well, too."

"Does that really matter to you, Miss Delacour?" Ron asked, looking around the richly decorated room.

Fleur gave him a strange look. "I don't plan to be living off my parent's money for my entire life," she said.

"Still," Ron said, leaning back in the comfortable chair and stretching his arms above his head, "it must be nice."

"What, money?"

"Yeah. I told you that I had to use a hand-me-down wand for two years, didn't I? Knight f5."

Fleur considered this for a moment. "I suppose I just never 'ave given money much thought.

"That's because you have it," Ron shot back.

Fleur accepted the comment with a graceful nod. She spent a long minute considering her position before doubling up her rooks. "'Ow about you?"

"How about me what?" Ron asked and then added, "a5."

"What do you plan on doing in the future? There's nothing stopping you from getting a well paying job, after all."

For a moment, Ron tried to think what it would be like to actually have money. Spending two weeks travelling internationally by Portkeys and staying in expensive hotels had certainly given him an idea of what kind of life people with money could live. "I'm sure my mum would want me to get a job in the Ministry."

"Do I need to tell you the problem I 'ave with zat statement?" Fleur asked with a condescending look, ordering her bishop to move as well.

"Yeah, yeah, 'what do I want to do?'." Ron looked out of the window at the clear, blue skies. "Quidditch, maybe, if I manage to get on the team this year and am any good."

"Not zat many Quidditch players get very well paid," Fleur pointed out. "Not unless they are among the best."

"Even so," Ron said, still staring into the sky. "I've always liked Quidditch, both watching and playing it."

Fleur looked at Ron intently. "Well then, we'll just have to make sure zat you are the best Keeper in Britain, won't we?"

Ron turned and smiled at her. "Not everyone is as competitive as you, Fleur."

"But being the best at something is better than not being the best," she said, sounding genuinely confused by Ron's attitude. "Zat's just… axiomatically true."

"Still… only one person is going to be the best in the country," said Ron.

"And zat person will be the one 'oo practises the most," Fleur declared, standing up. "Come on, we 'ave some Quidditch equipment in the garden shed."

Before Ron could respond though, the door handle turned, but Fleur had locked the door magically.

"Fleur?" Gabrielle's voice sounded from the other side of the door. She tried the door again, rattling the handle and even throwing her nine-year-old body against it. She said something in French, but Ron could here the angry and demanding tone she was using.

"Quickly," Fleur whispered, opening the window and flicking her wand. In the distance, Ron saw two brooms flying towards them. "She won't be able to catch us in the air."

"Wait!" Ron said. "Queen b6. Mate in four."

Fleur scowled at the board and held out a broom to Ron. They mounted the two brooms and flew away from the house until the sound of Gabrielle hammering on the door couldn't be heard.

They spent a couple of hours up on brooms. True to her word, Fleur forced Ron to practise Keeper skills the whole time. He really was out of practice and Fleur, who was a good flyer, but not a Quidditch player, managed to thoroughly embarrass Ron by scoring a significant proportion of her shots against him.

They were met with a surprise, however, when they re-entered the house… and it wasn't anything cooked up by Gabrielle.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron exclaimed.

"Very well observed, Mister Weasley," Dumbledore replied good-humouredly. "And good afternoon to you, Miss Delacour."

Matis, who had been talking to Dumbledore until they had arrived, spoke up. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then."

Once Ron, Fleur and Dumbledore had sat down and Fleur had summoned a tea set from elsewhere in the house, Dumbledore got down to business.

"Now, I'm afraid that I haven't got too much time on my hands. It might surprise you to learn that I am rather busy these days."

Ron let out a nervous laugh, as if he wasn't sure if the headmaster was joking or not. "Uh, yeah, I can imagine."

"Good!" Dumbledore said. "So, first, Mr Weasley, there has been a slight change of plans regarding your travel arrangements. After this discussion, I will be escorting you to your parents personally." Ron blinked in surprise. "As it is a secret location, you'd need to be escorted there in any case and as I was coming to France anyway, it made the most sense. As to why I have come all this way… Miss Delacour."

"Yes?"

"I have heard from William that you have taken up the goblins of Gringotts on a job offer."

"William?" Fleur asked in confusion.

"Bill," Ron clarified.

"Ah, oui, I 'ave."

"Wonderful," Dumbledore said genially. "And might I be correct in my presumption that the reason you are moving to Britain is not exclusively due to the employment prospects?" He gave a significant look towards Ron as he said this.

Fleur took Ron's hand in hers. "Yes," she said definitely.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at them, then his expression grew more serious. "And, as you have both experienced first hand, the situation in Britain has become quite dire. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I have been unable to convince the British Ministry of the reality of the current threat, though I have your parents to thank for their help in convincing the French Ministry of Voldemort's return."

Fleur nodded.

"Now, I have been… unwilling… to sit idly by while Voldemort takes his time gaining power and allies and as such-"

"You want to invite me into a secret group, opposed to the Dark Lord, acting outside of the purview of the British government and yes, I accept."

Dumbledore's expression turned from surprised to impressed.

"Very well, Miss Delacour, let me tell you about the Order of the Phoenix."

After a brief explanation, and a promise to sort out the details at a later date, Dumbledore gave Ron and Fleur space for them to say their goodbyes. Apparently, when Dumbledore said he was busy, he meant that he needed to be back in Britain in the next ten minutes.

"This is 'ardly a long goodbye," Fleur said. "I'll be moving into my new flat in London in a week's time."

"Yeah, but still…"

"Just think," Fleur said, winding a lock of hair around a finger, "you can come visit me. No parents putting jinxes on doors. No sisters determined to prevent us from spending any time alone. It'd be just. The. Two. Of. Us."

Ron gulped.

"And anyway, I'll be visiting where you will be for Dumbledore's Order's meetings."

"Yeah."

Both of them fell silent for a moment.

"Thanks for… well, everything these last couple of weeks," Ron said.

"It was no problem," Fleur said.

"And thanks for–" coming to Britain to fight our war? For me? For being my girlfriend? Ron wasn't sure what to say.

Fleur smiled at him. "I understand," she said. She pulled him into a hug. Ron became very aware of her allure pressing up against him. He had been growing more and more aware, the longer he spent time with her, that her allure had different moods and strengths depending on what Fleur was feeling. Now it felt very full of emotion and expressiveness, but also as if it was all just for him. He felt his face warming up.

The door opened a crack.

"Mister Weasley?" came Dumbledore's voice. "It is time for us to go."

Ron pulled back, but still held on to Fleur's arms.

"I, er…"

"I know," she said. "Now go."

Ron picked up his luggage. "See you soon," he said to Fleur.

"Adieu."

Compared to some of the journeys that he had taken recently, travelling from Fleur's house in Normandy to London hardly phased Ron at all.

Seeing that Ron had managed the trip without becoming ill, Dumbledore immediately set off down the road they had both appeared on.

"Professor," Ron said, still a little in awe, being alone with his famous headmaster, "where are we?"

"In London," Dumbledore replied.

"Er, that doesn't really narrow it down, sir."

Dumbledore gave Ron an amused look. "Very well pointed out, Mr Weasley," he said. "However, the actual location of our destination is protected magically and I would rather not discuss it where unfriendly ears may be listening."

"You think there may be disillusioned people watching us now?" Ron asked, looking around, wondering if he would be able to see the distortion of a Disillusionment Charm cast by an adult Death Eater.

"It would have to be a particularly brave or foolish person to try and spy on me," Dumbledore said, his eyes full of mirth. "But good information security is a good habit."

"Oh."

A few minutes of walking later, Dumbledore evidently hadn't wanted to waste too much time walking from where his Portkey had dropped them to wherever they were going, Dumbledore stopped in the middle of a nondescript Muggle street.

"Sir?" Ron asked, looking around. None of the buildings looked like they housed a secret order of non-governmental, anti-dark lord witches and wizards. Nor could he feel the telltale buzz of magical protective charms.

"Here we are," Dumbledore said.

"Here?"

"Does anything here seem out of place to you, Mister Weasley?"

Ron looked up and down the row of houses again.

"No, sir. Except for yo– for us, I mean."

Dumbledore looked down at himself. He had transfigured his typical colourful robes into an equally colourful Muggle three-piece suit.

"Perhaps you are right, but I'm glad to know that the charm is working properly."

"What charm?"

Dumbledore leaned closer to Ron's ear. "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at twelve Grimmauld Place."

Instantly, another building was visible in front of them. It had none of the features of the Muggle houses on either side. It didn't have a telephony wire attached, nor did it have one of the white boxes on the wall. The windows were closed and the curtains were drawn and Ron could suddenly feel protective charms pressing against him.

Pressing a finger against his lips, Dumbledore led Ron in, through the dimly lit hall and into a warm kitchen.

"Ron!"

A few minutes later, when his mum had released him from one of her signature, bone-crushing hugs, Hermione and Ginny had joined them.

"Hey," Ron said to them.

"Welcome back," Hermione replied.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Oh," Ron's mum jumped. "I'm sorry, headmaster. I forgot that you wanted to talk to them. Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"No, thank you, Molly," Dumbledore said. "I really should be going to my next meeting soon. Now, Miss Weasley, Mister Weasley and Miss Granger." Dumbledore gestured for them to sit down, which they did. "I have a very serious request for the three of you while you are staying here." Ron straightened up in his chair. "I must ask you to not reveal anything of what you do here or anything you may learn about or overhear, with Mister Potter."

Ron frowned, but it was Hermione who asked the question on his mind.

"Why not?"

"Hermione!" mum chided her.

"Because, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said, "despite the protections I have placed around him, Harry is probably being watched by the enemy and I am concerned about owls possibly being intercepted."

"It's what you were saying before," Ron said. "What was it… information security?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed.

"But how about–," Hermione began.

"I'm afraid I must insist," Dumbledore said, now consulting a watch showing multiple celestial bodies.

"Of course, professor," mum said. "That's no problem." Ron may have been used to it, but it was clear that Hermione didn't appreciate his mum's attitude.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off."

Without further elaboration, Dumbledore spun on the spot, disapparating with the softest crack.

"Well I never!" mum said, shocked that Dumbledore would be so rude as to disapparate indoors. "Still, I suppose the headmaster is such a busy man."

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said in her most controlled voice, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't speak on my behalf."

"Don't be silly, dear," mum said, now busying herself with tidying up the kitchen.

"Excuse me!" Hermione said, her voice now losing its controlled tone. "I'm not being silly."

Mum gave Hermione one of her more severe parenting stares, but Hermione met it confidently. Ron tried his best to silently and wandlessly disillusion himself.

"The headmaster had a very simple request," mum tried.

"Which would have been fine and I might have even accepted that request just due to his position alone, but not only am I allowed to ask questions, I am allowed to answer for myself. I don't need you to do it for me."

Ron shared a look with Ginny which said that this might not have been Hermione's wisest decision.

"Professor Dumbledore is leading the fight against You Know Who. You need to follow his instructions," mum's voice had entered a serious risk of danger territory.

"That still doesn't require you to speak for me!"

Ron and Ginny slouched lower in their chairs.

"If you can't follow instructions, maybe you ought to be sent back to your parents."

"Oh, I'm sure that Harry would just love that! 'Yeah, we sent your friend away because she wanted to write letters to you'."

"You can write letters to him!" mum shouted.

"Just not about anything actually important!"

Mum threw her hands above her head. "If you think you're so much smarter than the headmaster–"

"I've never hired a servant of You Know Who as a teacher. Twice!" Hermione's voice had risen in volume to match mums.

"You don't know what it's like to fight a war."

"I've been fighting in this war since my first year," Hermione said coldly.

"You don't know what it's like to lose someone!"

Ron grimaced. If she was about to start talking about her brothers, then she'd start angry crying and it would take hours for her to calm down.

"I thought that we lost Ron to that enchanted chess set!" Hermione shouted.

Ron looked at her in surprise. He didn't remember anything after being captured by the queen, but he didn't think Harry and Hermione had been that worried about his injuries.

Hermione took a deep breath. "All I'm asking for," she said, "is a little respect."

Mum took an equally deep breath, but while Hermione's was to help calm herself down, mum's was to prepare herself to continue.

"While you are in this house, you will follow the adult's instructions."

Hermione stood up, her chair pushed backwards by the force she exerted. "Fine," she said, stalking from the room.

Ron let the silence stretch for a moment after the door closed behind Hermione. Mum was clutching a tea towel so hard that her knuckles had turned white.

"So," Ron said, stretching the word out. "Japan was great, by the way."

"Come in," Hermione called after Ron knocked on her door.

Ron pushed the door open to see Hermione determinedly searching through four years worth of textbooks and class notes.

"If you're searching for a curse," Ginny said, standing next to Ron in the doorway. "I should warn you that my mum's pretty good at Defence."

Hermione looked up. "Oh, hi Ginny, Ron. Sorry about all that. No, I was just looking for… Oh, where is it?"

"Hermione?"

"Dumbledore is right, of course, the enemy probably would intercept an owl, if they could. Although, now that I think about it, it'd probably be a good opportunity to try and feed them some fake information."

"What?"

"Oh, something like 'Harry will be moved on the fifth', when actually he'll be moved on the forth."

Ron looked at Hermione. "Sometimes I wonder about how your mind works, Hermione. You still haven't told me what you're looking for."

Hermione continued to rummage through her papers. "Professor Dumbledore said that owls might be intercepted, but I doubt that a Death Eater would be able to intercept– Ah ha!" Hermione cried victoriously, her hand clutching a scrap of parchment.

Ron peered at it. Except for one very long number, it was blank, although the number seemed vaguely familiar to Ron.

"Want to help me find a phonebox?" Hermione asked.

After promising Ron's mum that they were just going for a walk and would behave themselves, Ron, Ginny and Hermione set out from Grimmauld place in search of a public telephone. One the way, Hermione quizzed Ron about his trip to Japan.

"Did you do anything other than eat food?" Hermione asked, after Ron finished describing the udon they had had.

Hermione and Ginny also filled Ron in about some of the goings on in Britain. You Know Who had been gathering forces, but hadn't exposed himself. The Ministry was trying to discredit Dumbledore and Harry in the press, but public opinion was pretty firmly divided. There had been rumours that elements in the Ministry were trying to oust Fudge and replace him with a believer in Dumbledore, but, for now, Fudge seemed to have just enough of a grip on power to avoid being replaced.

The most personal news to Ron though was…

"Percy!" he said. "I can't believe it! Well, actually… that's pretty in character for him, but even so, I'm disappointed."

"Yeah," said Ginny sadly. "Don't mention him around mum and dad."

After a few minutes, Hermione spotted one of the red boxes she was looking for. She paused for a moment after putting some of her strange Muggle coins into the machine.

"Won't Harry's uncle answer the phone?" Ron asked.

"Oh, right," Hermione said. Her brow creased in thought. "Hmm, that should work," she said to herself, punching in the number. There was a moment of waiting. "Hello? I'm calling from HMRC," she said, deepening her voice. "Can I speak to a… Harry Potter, please? Thank you."

Hermione looked at Ron while she waited.

"HMRC?" he asked.

"The Muggle taxman. Oh, hello," she said into the phone. "Don't react. It's me, Hermione. Just say 'yes' like you're answering a question… Dumbledore said we should be careful about owling you, but phoning should be fine… you're not sure? Oh, about your uncle? Don't worry, I've thought of that. Is there a phone box near your house? …You don't even have, like, fifty pence? …Do you know the number for it?"

Hermione frowned, clearly trying to solve the problem in her head.

"Why don't we just go to him?" Ron asked.

"What? No, not you, Harry. Ron said something."

"Surrey's not that far," Ron said. "We could be there and back in a day."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Okay. New plan. Is there a park near your house? Can you meet us there tomorrow, at…" Ron could see her estimating train times in her head, "…noon? Excellent. Now, here's what you say to make your uncle leave you alone. Say your date of birth out loud… good, now, when I hang up, say that they thought you were a different Harry Potter. Okay? See you tomorrow."

Hermione returned the phone to its machine then looked at the others. "I think that worked out pretty well."

"I don't know why we've never done this before," Ron said, watching the London suburbs through the train window.

"What, go and visit Harry during summer?" Hermione asked. "I guess it wasn't really necessary, right? I mean, he had to deal with Dobby… and his Aunt Marge… okay, maybe we could have visited a couple of times, but we were younger then and wouldn't have wanted to upset his uncle."

Ginny clutched her present for Harry closely. Ron had stuffed his and Hermione's into his bag, but Ginny's had been too large. It wasn't actually his birthday until tomorrow (Hermione had forced Ron to add a postscript to her letter to Neville), but they hadn't thought of that until they had already ended their phone call.

"You're sure that your mum won't get suspicious?" Hermione asked.

"So long as we're back in time for dinner, we should be alright," Ginny replied. They had told mum that they were going to explore Muggle London under Hermione's leadership. If there was one thing that always made mum feel nervous, it was Muggles, with whom she had almost zero experience.

Hermione had been guessing at train times when she chose noon as their meeting time, but they were actually a few minutes early, getting off the bus outside the Little Whinging park.

They didn't see Harry, so they wandered over to the unoccupied play area.

"The Muggles make him do chores, so he might be late," Ron said.

He and Ginny occupied themselves by examining the various things that the play area included. Hermione seemed to find their fascination with Muggle things amusing.

"What's this?" somebody said a few minutes later. They all turned to see a lanky boy, around their age, surrounded by half a dozen others. He was holding Ginny's present for Harry.

"Put that down," Ginny said. "It's a birthday present."

"What a coincidence!" the boy exclaimed, smirking. "Today's my birthday. Thanks!"

He began teasing at the corner of the paper.

"Oi!" Ginny shouted, rushing over. Ron joined her. They may have been outnumbered two to one, and he hardly imagined that Hermione was much of a fistfighter, but he had grown up the twins and Ginny was more than capable of knocking a couple of heads together.

"What's the matter?" the boy asked, his voice full of faux sadness. "Don't I deserve a birthday present, too?"

"Not from me, you creep," said Ginny.

"Alright then," the boy said, dropping Ginny's present for Harry on the ground and stepping forward, "why don't you come with me to the lavs and suck my–"

"Hey!" Hermione interrupted him. "This is a children's park. Watch your language."

Everyone, Ron and Ginny included, gave her a strange look. The youngest person around was Ginny, after all.

Ron looked at the group of hooligans. They were all struggling at one end or the other of puberty. Either they had grown too quickly and didn't have the weight to match their height, or they hadn't grown at all. The only dangerous looking one was the big, muscled boy standing just behind Lanky.

"Do I know you?" Muscles asked Ron, looking at him strangely. It was hearing his voice that helped Ron recognise him.

"Er, no," Ron said. He could hardly tell Dudley Dursley that his father had blown up his living room last summer, not in front of the other Muggles, at least. Dudley had really lost the fat and packed on the muscle in the last twelve months.

"A ginger, Piers?" one of the other boys asked Lanky. "I thought you had standards."

"What can I say?" Lanky, Piers apparently, replied. "I'm curious if the curtains match the–"

"I'd think really carefully about if you want to finish that sentence, if I were you," Ron said threateningly, stepping forward.

"What is it with all the gingers?" one of the others asked.

"They're brother and sister," Hermione said.

"Oh, that actually makes sense."

"Shut up, John," Piers said. "Anyway, I've thought about it very carefully…" he said, turning to Ron, "drapes."

Fists clenched and blood pumping in his ears, Ron stepped forward again.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. But Ron was struggling to contain his temper, what's more, he knew that Ginny's temper was hearing its breaking point, too.

"Leave them alone, Polkiss!"

It was Harry. He was stalking towards the playground, his expression dark and shoulders hunched. Ron saw the momentary flash of fear on Dudley's face.

"Little Harry!" Piers exclaimed. "Up for some Harry Hunting for old times sake?"

Harry didn't answer him, instead walking right up to the other group, even if he was a head shorter than Piers.

"Piss off," Harry said, teeth gritted.

"Friends of yours?" Piers said. "Look at little Harry, all grown up. You've even got yourself your own little foursome to roll around with."

Harry almost looked as if he was going to punch Piers then and there, but then he saw Dudley trying, and failing, to avoid attention and Harry's angry expression transformed into a grin.

"You know what? These are my friends. Friends from school, in fact," he said, giving Dudley a significant look.

Dudley's eyes widened in fear, then he looked at Ron again in recognition. "Let's get out of here, guys," he said.

"No way, Big D! We can take 'em."

"Forget it!" Dudley said angrily. "There's some White Lightning stashed at the other end of Wisteria Lane. Let's go get hammered."

They left, Piers giving Ginny one last lecherous look before turning away, and then they were alone.

"Why did you have to scare them away, Harry?" Ginny asked, staring at the retreating group. "We could have taken them."

"We're not allowed to use magic," Hermione pointed out.

"Who said anything about magic?" Ginny asked, an eyebrow raised. "I'd have them whimpering on the floor in no time."

"It's good to see you guys," Harry said.

Ginny, realising that she had been ignoring her boyfriend, gave him a hug.

"Let's get away from here before they get drunk and decide to cause more trouble," Harry said.

There was a tiny row of old shops in the centre of Little Whinging including a few benches, so, after a short walk, they sat down and Harry opened his presents. Hermione had bought him a year's subscription to Quidditch Monthly, Ron had bought him a kendama, a Japanese toy in which you tried to swing a ball on a string so that it landed in a cup, and Ginny had made him a huge box of home-made fudge and biscuits, with minimal help from mum. He thanked them all, already looking cheered up after the showdown with Dudley's gang.

"Did you hear about Krum?" Ron asked him. Harry shook his head. "He's transferred to Puddlemere United, you know, Wood's team. He'll be moving to Britain in the next few weeks."

Harry gave Hermione a look. "Do your parents know that your boyfriend is moving internationally in order to be closer to you?"

"It's not to be closer to me," Hermione protested, but her cheeks shone pink. "He's helping out with Dumbledore's organisation."

"Dumbledore's got an organisation?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," said Ron. "Some anti-You Know Who thing. We're staying at the–" Ron began coughing, his voice failing him.

"There's a charm," Hermione explained. "The same one your parent's used."

"The, uh, Fidelius?"

"That's the one. Dumbledore told us we had to be careful about what we sent by owl, hence why we've come in person."

"Do you think someone could be watching us right now?" Ron asked, looking around again for any sign of a Disillusionment Charm.

"I doubt it," Hermione said. "Plus, doesn't Harry have some weird, super protection while he stays at Privet Drive?"

Harry shrugged. "Bugger if I know. I thought I heard the sound of disapparation earlier, but I couldn't be sure."

Ginny fanned herself with one hand. "Merlin, it's hot today."

"You reckon?" Ron asked.

"Ron, it's one of the hottest summers on record," Hermione said.

Ron shrugged. "Compared to Japan, this is almost chilly."

"Japan this, Japan that," Ginny said in exasperation. "Honestly, Ron… what?"

Harry was laughing. "Thanks guys. I really missed this."

"What?" Ron asked. "Our bickering?"

"Yeah. Come on, there's a Tesco's around the corner. Let's grab some ice cream. I don't have any Muggle money, but I can pay you back in Galleons, Hermione."

They were in good spirits while they walked back towards the park they had met. Harry had given them the tour of Little Whinging, which didn't take long, but it had been interesting for Ron and Ginny to see Harry's old primary school, at least.

"We can cut through here," Harry directed them.

Ginny was the first to notice that something was wrong.

"Do you guys feel cold, all of a sudden?" she said.

"And why is it getting dark?" asked Hermione. "It's only five o'clock."

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed. "Dementors!"

"What?!"

"Here?!"

"Run!" Harry cried.

They only made it a few dozen yards before the Dementors caught them. Ron whipped out his wand, but he'd never even tried the Patronus Charm. The four of them were stuck in a tunnel that led under a road, but none of them could hear the rumble of traffic above them. There were two Dementors, one approaching from each side.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry cried, but all that issued from his wand was a thin, pale smoke.

Ron had hardly heard Harry's voice. It had seemed very distant, even though they were standing right next to each other. Instead, Ron could hear Gabrielle's sobbing and in his mind's eye, he could see Fleur, unconscious after Krum had attacked her, dead to the world.

The Dementors drew closer and closer. "Expecto Patronum!" Harry tried again. More smoke.

"Harry?" Ginny said in a small, scared voice. Hermione was staring wide-eyed at the approaching darkness, her wand held loosely in her hand.

Gabrielle's sobbing grew louder and louder. Ron was struggling to concentrate. Struggling to think of anything he could do.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry roared. This time, a tremendous silver stag erupted from his wand, filling the narrow passageway with light and warmth. The sound of Gabrielle's crying disappeared and the sound of Muggle traffic could be heard again.

"Is everyone alright?" Harry asked, once the Dementors had been driven off. Ginny nodded at him and Ron pocketed his wand. "Hermione?" Harry asked again.

"No, I'm… I'm…"

"Hermione?" Ginny asked softly, touching Hermione's elbow.

Hermione sniffed and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry, I'm alright. What were Dementors doing here?"

"It doesn't matter," Ron said. "Let's get out of here."

They started to move, following Harry's lead, but somebody appeared at the end of the path.

"Mrs Figg?" Harry called out to the stranger. "Wands away," he hissed at the others.

"Don't put your wand away, boy," Mrs Figg called out. "What if they come back? Oh, I am going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

Mrs Figg, who had turned out to be Harry's secret, squib watcher, had insisted that Harry return immediately to Privet Drive and the others, unwilling to leave Harry while he might be in danger, decided to go with him.

Mrs Figg had left them as soon as they had entered the garden of Harry's house, claiming that she had to contact Dumbledore as soon as possible, but not before ordering Harry to not leave the property.

Harry, hesitantly, knocked on the door. It wasn't late, so it only took a few moments for a middle-aged woman with a pinched face to answer the door.

"Yes?" she said in an unhappy tone when she saw Harry. Then her gaze turned to the others. "What do you think you're doing?!" she hissed. "You can't bring your kind here!"

"We've just been attacked," Harry said, ignoring his aunt's antagonism. "This is the safest place around and I'm not abandoning them when it might still be dangerous." Mrs Dursley did not seem impressed by this argument. "They can either wait in the house or in the garden, where everyone can see them."

That did the trick. Glancing at the surrounding houses, as if her neighbours might have been watching them that very moment, Harry's aunt ushered the four of them inside and quickly closed the door.

"Don't touch anything," she said, looking at Ron, Ginny and Hermione with an expression of half-fear, half-anger.

"What, afraid we'll infect it or something?" Ginny replied, scowling.

"Ginny," Harry said warningly. "Let's just go through to the kitchen."

"Vernon!" Harry's aunt called out as they entered the pristine kitchen. There was the sound of feet stomping from the upstairs.

"I don't suppose you have any hot chocolate?" Hermione asked.

Harry's aunt looked at Hermione as if she had just asked if she could lick all the kitchen counters.

"None for you," she replied.

"That top cupboard," Harry said, pointing.

Ron opened the cupboard door. "Uh, which one?"

"The red one."

Ron passed it to Harry, who busied himself with one of the mysterious Muggle contraptions.

"How dare you," Harry's aunt spat at them. She was standing next to the door, her hands clenched into fists at her side, but Ron could see real fear on her face.

"What's going on, Pet?" Harry's uncle asked as he came in beside her. Then he noticed all the strangers in his kitchen. "Who are all you lot?!" he demanded.

"They're his sort," Harry's aunt whispered to him. "And they're drinking Dudley's hot chocolate."

"We've just been attacked by…" Harry paused for a moment, clearly thinking about how to describe it to his Muggle relatives, "dark creatures. Chocolate is the recommended remedy. Here." He passed a steaming mug to Ron, who immediately pushed it into Hermione's hands.

"Someone will come and collect us soon, I'm sure," Hermione said, sipping at her hot chocolate and sighing in relief. Harry passed a cup to Ron, who, despite the scalding temperature, swallowed a large mouthful. Even as his throat burned, the numbness in his extremities faded away and the world felt a little warmer.

Harry's uncle seemed torn between his desire to throw them all out without waiting and his fear at being outnumbered by witches and wizards. "Well, the sooner the better," he eventually said.

"What is it exactly that you're afraid of?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious. "I grew up in a house like this. My parents are dentists."

Perhaps it was the mundanity of dentistry, but this did seem to calm them both down a little. Until an owl flew into the window, of course.

"Ruddy owls!" Harry's uncle cried out. Harry ignored him and tore the letter from the owl's leg.

"I've been expelled," he said a moment later.

"What?!"

This was said with horror and disbelief by Ron, Ginny and Hermione and glee by his uncle.

"Let me see that," Hermione said, ripping the letter from Harry's hand without waiting for him to respond. "There's a specific exception to the use of underage magic when lives are in danger. They can't expel you for that!"

"They say they can," Harry said. After the excitement of almost having their souls sucked out earlier, he was only mildly upset that he might be being kicked out of Hogwarts. "They say they're coming to destroy my wand now."

"We can't give them your wand!" Ginny said angrily. "Let's run for it."

"No!" Ron objected. "There may still be Dementors about. Why don't we hide Harry's wand? That way they won't be able to destroy it."

"And when they cast a Summoning Charm?" Ginny asked sardonically.

"Oh, yeah."

"Why don't we just wait for Dumbledore to get in contact?" Hermione asked.

"And do what when the Ministry officials arrive?" Harry asked.

But any possible answer to his question was pre-empted by another owl flying into the kitchen. Harry's aunt screeched and his uncle started swearing loudly, but the others ignored him as they waited for Harry to read.

"Dumbledore's gone to the Ministry to sort this out," Harry said, passing the letter to Hermione. "Your mum will be coming to take you back soon."

There was a general sigh of relief at this news, but then they heard raised voices outside the front door.

Ron and the others drew their wands, though casting more magic was probably the worst thing they could do.

Ron slipped into the living room and peered out of the bay window. "There are three witches," he said. "Someone in Auror robes and two others in ordinary, working robes."

"You mean they're wearing robes," Harry's aunt screeched. "On my doorstep."

Without consulting any of the witches and wizards already in her house, she marched up to her front door and wrenched it open. "Get inside!" she said. "Everyone can see you!"

The three new witches shuffled into the kitchen.

"Mister Potter," one of them, a particularly unattractive, middle-aged witch in lurid pink robes said. "This is Mafalda Hopkirk of the Improper Use of Magic Office. Give her your wand so that she can destroy it."

This immediately caused a reaction. Harry began shouting about Dementors, Hermione began arguing about the law, Ginny stepped protectively in front of Harry and Ron moved around the edge of the kitchen, trying to put himself in a good position to give crossfire if it ended up in a fight. The Muggles were angry, scared and apparently hopeful that Harry was going to be punished.

The Auror let off a bang from her wand, silencing everyone. "No one is going to be destroying any wands," she said, her hair shifting to a fiery red as she raised her voice.

"Is that so?" Pink Witch asked her. "Just how long have you been an Auror, Miss Tonks?"

"It doesn't matter!" Tonks replied. "I've still sworn to uphold the law and what you're trying to do here, Madam Umbridge, isn't legal!"

"He used magic in a Muggle area!"

"Then summon him for a hearing!"

"Why are you even here, Miss Tonks?" Umbridge asked, changing tack.

"Someone used a Patronus Charm," Tonks replied. "The Auror Office was concerned that someone might have been in danger."

"There are no rogue Dementors," Umbridge said dismissively. "The Potter boy is just lying again, trying to get attention."

This set off another round of protests until Hermione held up her hands for the others to stop.

"There were two of them. They attacked us about twenty minutes ago. Where was it, Harry?"

"At the north end of Wisteria Lane."

Tonks nodded. "I'm going to contact the office and get somebody to begin a search." She began fiddling with a device she pulled from her pocket.

"No, you're not!" Umbridge said angrily. "I order you not to."

"You can't order me."

"I'm the senior undersecretary to the Minister."

"But not the Minister himself!"

That was when Ron and Ginny's mum let herself in.

"Ron? Ginny?" they all heard her cry.

"In here, mum," said Ron.

Molly Weasley barrelled into the increasingly cramped kitchen.

"Oh, thank Merlin you're all alright!" she said, hugging Ginny, Ron, Harry and Hermione in turn. "What were you three doing here?" she demanded.

"Er, we came to see Harry," Hermione said in a small voice.

Mum pursed her lips. "Well, let's not worry about that now, let's just- Mafalda? What are you doing here?" Mum was looking at the Ministry witch in confusion.

"I–"

"She's here to charge Mister Potter for breaching the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery," Umbridge declared.

"And what are you doing here?"

Umbridge puffed herself up, but she was still the shortest and least intimidating person in the room. "I'm here because the Minister's Office wants to ensure that the law is upheld."

"And what's an Auror doing here?" Mum asked.

"I was investigating a possible Dementor sighting," Tonks said. "But now I'm stuck preventing these two from illegally seizing Potter's wand."

"And what was a Dementor doing here?"

"I don't know," said Tonks.

"Trying to assassinate Harry," Ginny said.

"There was no Dementor!" Umbridge cried in frustration.

"And what are two Muggles doing here?"

"This is my kitchen!" Harry's aunt shouted.

"Enough of this nonsense!" Umbridge said, raising her voice. "Hopkirk, seize the boy's wand."

"Uh…"

"If you take one step forward," Tonks said threateningly, "I'll arrest you both for assault and attempted wand destruction."

"You wouldn't dare," Umbridge declared.

Tonks' eyebrows met in the centre of her forehead. "Try me."

The two of them stared each other down for a moment, but everyone jumped when the front door slammed open again.

"Mum?" Dudley slurred, stumbling into the kitchen. "Is there anything to eat? I'm starv– who are all these people?"

"Careful, son," Harry's uncle said warningly. "Don't get too close to them."

Umbridge didn't seem to take that insinuation particularly well.

"Listen here, you… you… Muggles. I–"

"Gah!" Tonks cried out. "Mrs. Weasley right? These are your children?"

"These two are and Hermione is staying with us for the summer."

"Right, take them and go. I'll make sure that no wands get snapped or souls sucked away."

"Right," mum agreed. "You three, come on."

"See you, Harry," Ron said.

"Yeah, see you." Harry seemed a little overwhelmed by the chaos in his Muggle home.

Hermione and Ginny gave very brief goodbyes to Harry and they made to leave.

"Oh," Hermione said, as she was about to walk out of the door. "Dudley's been out getting drunk on cheap cider, by the way."

Dudley's face froze in fear and his mother gasped.

"Drinking, Dudley?" she asked.

"Drinking cider, son?" His father just sounded disappointed.

"Goodbye," Hermione called from the front door. "I love your begonias."

They left Privet drive behind them and ducked into a side alley where mum pulled out a Portkey.

"Well…" Ron said. "That was… something."