In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 95: Mine Anatomy
Bound in cuffs that levitated him, held above, Harry watched one at a time, as the lights of the night of London went out. Mixture of canary yellow, and black, swarmed the streets beneath him, the laughter as cars detonated, buildings that caught fire, as the curses flowed. Screams below, and his as the whip came back across him, all Harry could do was watch the Potter Marks rise into the sky.
Harry woke early Monday morning in a sweat, the memory of the whip on him, unable to stop it. He imagined another snap of that whip, the laughter. Harry disapparated, outside into the darkness, outside the house. He ran in the darkness. Feet on the pavement, he ran, with a disillusion charm on himself.
Honk!
Two cars ready to duel at the intersection, Harry continued. Thoughts of that London he'd seen, he had to know. Harry disapparated, apparated onto the Westminster Bridge. A handful of pedestrians, a couple of buses, a single black motorcar. Harry glanced down the river, not enough.
Bong!
Upward, the tall tower, Harry apparated upward, into the belfry, the bells now to his back. He went to the arched opening, the one that overlooked downstream, Whitehall to the left, the Thames to the right. Neither showed the sign of the tendril of blue light he'd seen earlier. Still, Harry stood there, watched, wondered what it had meant.
Later that morning, Ron and Hermione left the shower and the lavatory, returned to the living room.
"We need time," Hermione said, "Time to recover from that ordeal."
"Sure," Ron said, "I'll go and talk to You–Know–Who, ask him to hold off for a year so we can have a long holiday in Spain."
Hermione snorted.
"Not sure about a year," said Arthur Weasley, at the table with The Daily Prophet, "But that sounds nice, a weekend?"
"Um…" Ron muttered.
"Given I'm unemployable," Arthur said, "We'll have to camp it. What'd you say?"
"We'd love to," said Fred.
"Not you," Arthur said, "You've got shops to run, talking Ronald and Hermione here. We'll figure it out."
"Sure," Ron said.
Ron sat to the other side of the table, reached for the cauldron, and opened the lid. A plate, removed some cauldron cakes, poured on some syrup, and read into the paper as he ate. Hermione sat next to Ron, worked a smaller stack of cauldron cakes.
"Um…" Ron muttered to the list on the paper.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Monday 10 March 1997
Known Victims of Potter
Recent debate has surfaced questioning the extent of Potter's dive into the Dark Arts. We at the Daily Prophet feel a listing of known British victims is in order, listing name followed by place and date of death (or discovery). Do not let their memories fade as the Ministry of Magic attempts to handle our Potter problem.
Ron skimmed the list.
"We witnessed Voldemort killing my cousin," Hermione said.
"Like our word's to be believed," Ron said, "Otherwise, we'd not have this."
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Potter Taskforce
After much petitioning by a majority of the population, the Minister for Magic Victor Fallerschain created the Potter Taskforce to help alleviate the threat that Harry Potter poses to the community. Minister Fallerschain apologized for the delay, but stated that needed legislation had to first past the Wizengamot which did so early Friday.
"Who better to deal with Potter than those who know him best?" the Minister said, "I therefore assign the duties and responsibilities of the Potter Taskforce to the Harry Potter Guidance Committee."
A key feature of the authorization legislation is the ability of the assigned taskforce is the ability to issue Anti Social Behaviour Orders (ASBOs) to any person in connection to Harry Potter. Normally, ASBOs require a lengthy court proceeding to be issued, however, the Wizengamot has recognized the severe threat of Potter and has allowed the taskforce to issue them.
Upon questioning, the chair of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee, Dolores Umbridge, responded, "Finally, this committee has the instruments needed to affect changes needed in the life of Harry Potter to stem his dive into the Dark Arts. Before, there was little legal recourse this committee could exact in response to Harry Potter's refusal to comply with the fair guidelines of this committee."
Umbridge also noted Harry Potter's delinquency in paying bills despite his enormous wealth. Apparently, Minister Fallerschain is still negotiating with the Goblins to allow the Ministry to assist on the collection on money duly owed.
A couple of blue owls dropped letters to Hermione and Ron.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley,
You are hereby prohibited from any and all contact with Harry James Potter.
Failure to comply with these orders, at the Minister's direction, are deemed criminal acts in accordance with the Suspected Dark Wizard Control Act and are therefore capital offenses.
Dolores Umbridge, Chair of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee and Potter Taskforce
"Same," Hermione said.
"Warning," Arthur said, "Her letters cannot be destroyed, and there's an enforcement jinx on them."
"I can leave them somewhere, right?" Ron asked.
Ron grabbed Hermione's, a thought, he disapparated. Into Gia's bedroom, bed empty, put both letters on her desk next to one addressed to Harry, and apparated back.
"Where?" Hermione asked.
"Luckily Harry wasn't in," Ron whispered to her.
"Best be hiding," Hermione said, "Prices have gone up."
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Problem Solver
Face it Wizarding World, it's time to vote with your purse, express your dissatisfaction with the vileness that has crept back into our lives. You thought the Boy Who Lived was your salvation, you wish that were true but know it's not. We need to banish this blemish and disease from our lives, to return to the wonderful world of magic we all know and love.
Eximo Macula is proud to help administer these rewards for removal of known threats to the wizarding community.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived. 492K galleons.
Ronald Weasley, Kiss Up King. 328K galleons.
Hermione Granger, Wannabe Dark Queen. 215K galleons.
Gia Prescott, Muggle Cock Holster aka Potter's pet. 176K galleons.
Bonus of 10,000 galleons per relation or friendship severed.
Removal of these problems would be greatly appreciated. All wagers and contributions can be sent to "Bye Bye". To claim a reward, submit relevant documentation.
"That's not funny," said Arthur Weasley, "It's retirement to collect them all, assuming the money's delivered."
Ron wondered why Harry wasn't in his bedroom.
Harry heard the chimes, knew he'd stood there for hours, his back as he'd watched, the light of the morning now upon the water, the commuters below. A thought, Harry apparated, back to the bedroom, empty.
"Long run?" Gia asked as she entered.
Harry faced her, the blond hair and her eyes, ones that helped him try to push out the thoughts of the night.
"No school?" Harry asked.
"Memorial for Ant this evening," Gia said.
Harry went to the tray on her desk, letters on it, two sealed in the distinctive envelopes. He opened the one.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
This is the bill for the services rendered by this committee; the Minister of Magic informed us, past the cutoff date for last month, of several services performed on your behalf.
Harry skimmed through the numbers.
"Hundred galleons for storage of a broom so it can be jinxed?" Harry grumbled, "Not paying twenty thousand to be harassed!"
Harry hissed, the bill disintegrated.
"Next one a love letter?" Gia asked.
Harry shook his head, opened it.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Mr. Harry James Potter,
In accordance with the mandates, ASBOs must be issued in a letter separate of other business.
You are prohibited from any and all contact with Hermione Granger or Ronald Weasley.
Failure to comply with these orders, at the Minister's direction, are deemed criminal acts in accordance with the Suspected Dark Wizard Control Act and are therefore capital offenses.
Dolores Umbridge, Chair of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee and Potter Taskforce
Harry spotted the other two, written to Ron and Hermione.
"Bugger!" Harry exclaimed, the lamp on the nightstand shattered.
Gia pressed into his back, the hands to his shoulders. Harry hissed, one at a time, the orders disintegrated into the growing pile of ash on the floor. Gia turned him around.
"Our day's free," Gia said, her hand reached for the tray, grabbed a toffee, and put it between Harry's lips, "Go over what's happening in your mind, be it Thursday or something else, we'll talk."
Gia pushed Harry back onto the bed, her legs around his.
"I sentence you to a couple dozen snogs," Gia said, "A dozen bangs, until you drown out the memory of Thursday, alright?"
Harry smiled.
"Thought so," Gia said.
Harry figured he had the time.
…
Meanwhile, Ron gave Ginny a hug, and watched her enter the fireplace.
"Hogwarts!" Ginny exclaimed.
She vanished.
"Fireplace or…" Ron said to Hermione, pulled out the Hogwarts Pin.
Hermione's eyes to him. She held the pin, Ron activated it, the jerk behind the navals, and they were pulled away. Both landed in Lupin's living room.
"Bit…was planning on eight, sharp," Lupin said.
"Sorry," Ron said, noticing it was quarter past, "We…"
"And Harry?" Lupin asked.
"Um…staying separate this week," Hermione said.
"Get him," Lupin said, "This concerns him too."
Ron disapparated, apparated into Gia's bedroom. Gia on the bed. Harry on top of her, into her.
"Not everybody knows how to KNOCK!" Harry grumbled.
"Harry," Ron said, "Lupin wants us."
"I'm busy," Harry said.
"Got the ASBO, not supposed to talk," Ron said.
"Then don't," Harry snapped, "Mind?"
Ron disapparated.
…
"Sorry about that," Harry said.
"Should—" Gia started.
"First," Harry said, "Where were we?"
Harry kissed her, again, his fingers into her chest, and he slid into her. He fought the memory of the whips to bliss and he pulled out.
"You're right," Harry said, "Need to overcome last week."
Harry unsure if she actually bought that excuse, massaged his hands down on her. Her hands worked down his front.
"Best medicine after near death," Gia said.
Harry grinned, leaned as best as he could.
…
Ron apparated back into Lupin's living room.
"He's otherwise occupied," Ron stated.
Lupin sighed.
"Can you get him?" Lupin said, "It's a lesson he won't want to skip."
Ron disapparated, apparated back into Gia's bedroom. Harry still on top of Gia.
"Ahem," Ron said, put his hand to Harry's shoulder, pulled.
Ron braced himself, the glare from those bottle green eyes.
"We're—" Harry started.
"Explain to Lupin you're too busy—banging," Ron said, "He wants to see you, I'm delivering."
"FINE!" Harry snapped.
Harry scrambled for a red T–shirt and green briefs.
"Later," Harry said to Gia.
Harry disapparated with Ron, both apparated in Lupin's living room.
"My being here is—" Harry started.
"Bollocks!" Ron snapped, "Had to catch you."
"This way," Lupin said.
They went for the stairs.
"Know how I wanted to spend the day," Harry muttered to Ron.
Ron didn't need imagination, the spot on the briefs hinted enough.
"We'll keep it brief," Hermione promised.
Lupin led the way to the Practice Hall. A table with something covered by a cloth.
"This seemed urgent," Lupin said.
Ron caught those eyes, the ones irked at Harry's grumpiness.
"Won't keep you long," Lupin said to Harry, "Several things you must be aware of. Stay or return after that."
"Thought—" Harry started, his left fingers touched the bulge in his briefs.
"We spent yesterday analyzing this." Lupin removed the cloth to reveal the mine that had been caught.
"Oh," Harry muttered.
Ron moved closer, next to the table with Hermione. Harry to the other side.
"As you're in that class." Lupin picked up a blade. "Some of this should be self–evident to you."
"Blades are," Ron said.
Hermione fingered Ron's right bicep.
"You've got your explosive." Lupin picked up a chunk. "This one is on the outside, recognize the skin?" Lupin peeled back the watery cloth.
"Invisibility cloaks?" Harry asked, leaning forward.
"Same stuff," Lupin said, "You won't see it unit it goes bang—Moody can with his eye."
Ron picked up the core, poked at the wires.
"Probably better at that than us," Lupin said, "Seems to be the muggle—"
"Ignitors," Harry said, "Sets off the explosive."
"Ingenious blend of technology," Lupin said, "Wires and all give the muggles an explanation, magic to selectively target it."
"We heard about the hairs," Harry said.
Lupin held up the sphere.
"Proximity, I presume," Ron said, "Likely we have to be close enough to catch the blast."
"Maybe even aimed," Lupin said.
"Ouch," Hermione said.
"Still," Lupin said, rotating the sphere, "I'd guess the sphere lets them decide, for this sphere requires touch."
"Ask Snape," Harry said, "He'd make that, set it loose, his sort of thing, complicated."
"Rather trivial potion that even I could manage," Lupin said, "Embed the hairs before it gels up. An hour at most, rest…"
"Better park of a week," Ron said, "Well, by hand."
"Assembly line would speed that up," Hermione said.
Harry moved behind Ron, and Ron understood why, felt the poke. Harry's right hand reached around, picked up a sphere, it flashed.
"For this to work," Harry said, "Requires our presence to be amplified, right? No muggle techniques exist."
"Isn't this muggle?" Lupin held up a piece of string.
"That's a piece of string," Harry said.
"Does nothing to help—" Ron started.
"Muggles attach these to grenade pins," Lupin said, "Right?"
"Perhaps that's magical," Hermione said.
"Hermione's more correct," Lupin said, "It's got so much magic it floods Moody's eye."
"Regardless of that," Harry said, "How can we find these before it hits us in the face—literally."
"An intricate ward might help," Lupin said, "We're not certain there. I was planning to start on those next week."
"I'll lead the way," Harry said, "Step on it, enough said on this."
"Hopefully not step on it," Lupin said, "Extend your presence, so it's like you stepped on it, but pray nobody else's around as they'd get hit instead."
"That'd…?" Harry said, "Sorry."
Harry moved, pressed back forward between Ron and Hermione.
"Pay attention," Hermione snapped at Harry.
"These—" Lupin held the sphere. "These trigger when you're nearby. You use the spell to extend your presence, enough to trigger these from further away. Hopefully you can dodge the blades, better odds with distance."
"Not much to go by," Harry grumbled.
"Better than nothing," Lupin said, "Or, go for magical eyes, which requires the removal of an existing one, left or right?"
Harry grumbled.
"Another option," Lupin said, "Potion, think you'll find it in a glamour book, Praesente Tendere, suggest you make it when you can."
"Great!" Harry snapped, "Let's brew a potion!"
Lupin's eyes glared, Ron unsure to the meaning.
"You're right Harry," Lupin said, "You should go home."
Harry returned the glare, as Lupin began to go around the table.
"You're ungrateful for the help I'm trying to provide," Lupin said, "Go home."
"What?" Harry snapped as he turned.
Lupin stepped toward Harry.
"You're full of nothing but disrespect today," Lupin said, "You come like this is a terrible imposition. Since that's your attitude, I have nothing further I can teach you. Go home."
"But—" Harry protested.
"No squabbling," Lupin ordered, "Leave. You're now trespassing."
"Fine," Harry snapped.
Harry folded his arms, disapparated.
"That's a bit harsh," Ron said.
Lupin's eyes to Ron.
"I suggest you explain this to him," Lupin said, "I tutor as a favor to him and his parents and to you, I'm not paid. I expect the same courtesy and respect owed any teacher. Failure to show as agreed is unacceptable. Sometimes Severus is correct about Harry, remember that."
"Snape's—" Hermione started.
"You've both have been gifted the privileges of adulthood," Lupin said, "With that comes responsibilities of it. One is to show respect when called for, even if you disagree with it. Coming half dressed and with a snobbish attitude, like this was an imposition, was uncalled for. I expect better from the son of James and Lily, and I'm absolutely certain they're supporting me now."
Lupin sighed.
"I do think this is important," Ron said.
"Thank you," Lupin said, "But Harry wore me out, so no, I can't continue today either."
"Always under attack," Ron said, "It wears out the nerves, we need to do something."
"The threat posed to you hasn't been seen since the first war," Lupin said, "Lily and James didn't fare well from it. I sympathize, but I need to remain stern. You'll eventually understand."
Ron studied those eyes, the ones that hid.
"Something else?" Ron asked.
"Remind me of Albus," Lupin said, "Respect and dignity is needed, especially now. From now on, address me as Professor Lupin, I think that'll help."
"We're not at Hogwarts," Hermione said.
"I was, once," Lupin said, "There is a reason why they use the title at Hogwarts, even though we're technically teachers."
"Yes Professor," Hermione said.
"Better," Lupin said, "Suggest you go."
Ron spotted it in those eyes, one more thing.
"What else are you not telling?" Ron asked.
"Professor, add the title," Lupin said, "But yes, I got listed."
"Listed?" Hermione asked.
"Accomplice to you," Lupin said, "I'm now under the same draconian provisions."
"What do you recommend studying?" Ron asked.
"You're smart enough to figure that out," Lupin said, "Come back next week, I think we'll need some time to sort things out. Off, go, shoo."
Ron turned, and paused.
"One more thing," Ron said, "Harry, the second time, I didn't take his refusal for an answer, I made him come. Sorry."
Ron took out his Portkey, Hermione held on as he activated it. They landed in the familiar mirrored guest bedroom at Fred's and George's. Hermione sat.
"I agree with Lupin," Hermione said, "Obvious what you interrupted."
Ron laid back on the bed, watched her hair up in the reflection off the ceiling.
"Lupin's lesson was important," Ron said, "Could've waited though. Think… think Gia was trying to sort out with Harry what I helped you yesterday with."
"Doesn't excuse Harry's behavior," Hermione said.
"No it doesn't," Ron said, his legs kicked against the side of the bed, "Try for an encore?"
"You're…?" Hermione started.
"Or, maybe we ought to try that potion?" Ron said, "George or Fred would have it."
Ron stood, leaned over, kissed.
"Sure, rested in bed all weekend," Ron said, "Still, not enough. Go and do something dull, boring."
Ron went for the door.
"Going to wank in the gallery?" Hermione asked.
"What a wonderful idea!" Ron said.
Hermione threw a pillow at Ron. Ron went down the steps, to the living room. He threw in a handful of Floo Powder as he stepped in.
"Weasley Wizarding Wheezes!" Ron exclaimed.
Green flame that surrounded him, and he spun. Ron stepped out of the platform into the front of the shop.
"BACK!" Fred snapped, "NOW!"
Ron went into the back, with Fred.
"What this time?" Fred asked.
"Was looking for something to do," Ron said, "Can't go to school."
"Serious?" Fred asked.
Ron studied those eyes.
"Could use help with the orders," Fred said, "Take over packing for Emily."
"Aw," Ron said, "A date, sure."
Ron went down the steps.
"No snogging!" Fred shouted.
A bit cooler, the table, the boxes. Emily, dressed in green and gold robes, had a basket.
"Fred said…" Ron said, approached, "Let me."
Her eyes on Ron, smiled.
"Your picture made The Daily Prophet," Emily said.
"All sides of me," Ron said, "I know."
Ron tried to put all the trinkets into the box.
"You don't know the charm," Emily said, "Do you?"
"Um…" Ron muttered.
Her hands to his shoulders, the face that came close. Ron spotted it, a beetle that crossed the table.
"One moment," Ron said, took a box, and brought it down over the beetle.
"You're spooked by one bug?" Emily asked.
"More than a bug." Ron folded the cardboard lid on, taped it shut. "Keep on working."
Ron carried the box back up, into the back room, into the small lavatory. Ron closed the door, cast the Imperturbment charm, and opened the box.
"Alright Skeeter," Ron said, holding the box over the toilet, "If it ain't you, I'm drowning this bug."
A transformation, the beetle grew, the blond haired lady with half height spectacles showed, the glossy red lips, the light green robes, stood there with Ron, the space tight, almost into him.
"Bit…cozy," said Rita Skeeter.
"So," Ron said, "What are you doing in my brothers' shop?"
"I'm in need for a date for tonight's gala." Skeeter's hand went down Ron's shoulder. "Heard you're available, plenty of pictures, so I know what I'm getting myself into. It's definitely a safe bet, no child maintenance to worry about."
"Read up, implants guarantee a boring night," Ron said, "If you're truly an investigative reporter, do it. Find out who in the Ministry is working for You–Know–Who."
Ron turned for the sink, washed his hands. Her hands to his back.
"He's—" Skeeter started.
"Very much alive," Ron said, as he turned around, "Harry and I, we tried to get names from Voldemort himself. Two days later, I'm getting castrated and Hermione's getting raped as punishment, that shows you his influence."
"Natalie MacDonald paid for that," Skeeter said.
"It was punishment searching for a victim," Ron said, "Heard of Polyjuice? Just as tasty as love potions? Best guess for how Voldemort's impersonating us, somebody's been getting very drunk on Polyjuice, can't stop doing shit when it's not us doing it."
Those eyes, unsure what to believe, in search for a juicy story.
"Tell you what," Ron said, "If you rat this next bit out, I'll hand out flyswatters."
Ron grabbed her hand, closed his eyes, thought about it, and disapparated with her.
"What the…?" Hermione stammered as Ron apparated with Skeeter into the mirrored bedroom.
"She wants to interview…us," Ron said.
"I…not the story I was going for," Skeeter said.
Ron spun the desk around, put the chair behind it.
"Need parchment?" Ron asked, pulled out a fresh role, along with a quill and inkjar.
"Ron!" Hermione said.
"All those stories," Ron said to Hermione, "About time somebody publishes our side, going to be in demand read, wouldn't you say?"
"I've got—" Skeeter pulled out a Quick Quotes Quill.
"Nope," Ron said as he snatched that, "It's cheating, like at school. We'll review for anything sensitive, so, let's start."
Skeeter sat behind the desk, as Ron sat with Hermione.
"And yes," Ron said, "We're engaged." Ron held up Hermione's hand with the ruby ring on it. "Asked her last month, day after Valentine's."
"How…romantic," Skeeter said, "Any limits to this interview?"
"We'll let you know," Ron said, "Nothing that truly betrays Harry, you understand?"
"Of course," Skeeter said, "But first, I want to know a bit about you. So, at what point did you know that Harry Potter was your friend?"
"The train ride, first year," Ron started.
Ron wondered if Harry would understand, there was enough hatred against Harry, they needed to fight back.
Harry's briefs too tight as he apparated back into Gia's bedroom, the messed up bed empty, the duvet and top sheet crumpled at his feet.
Hoot!
"Where is she?" Harry asked, "Sorry, you're a bird."
Harry left the bedroom and a glance to the other rooms; doors open, empty. Carpet of Richard's bedroom still in place with its large stain. Harry went down the steps.
"Lost my Mum years ago," Gia said to Richard, both on the sofa, next to each other, her hand on his thigh, "Can't imagine losing a sister."
"I can," Harry said, as he sat across from them, "End of my second year, we thought Ron's sister Ginny was dead, that was the message. He…don't think he'd recover, though we got lucky, rescued her before it was too late."
"Didn't happen here," Richard said.
"Gia," Harry said, "Can we—get back to it?"
"Cool yourself," Gia said, "We're…got something you can work on, thought you were busy with Lupin."
"Short lesson," Harry said.
"Study up then," Gia said, "I'm helping Richard."
Harry grumbled, stood, went back up the stairs, into the bedroom.
"Wouldn't by chance know what I saw last night?" Harry asked Hedwig.
Harry grabbed his book–bag, apparated down into the dining room, and sat at the table. He stared at his parchment, his mind wouldn't focus, flashbacks to the nightmare had returned, the sight of London destroyed in his mind. Harry leaned back, about fell asleep, when the feet entered, Gia and Snuffles.
"I'm sorry," Gia said, "Thought it was a nice idea, but Richard…sorry, he did lose his sister, no recovery. That was an awfully short lesson though."
Snuffles transformed.
"Remus wasn't too happy about it," Sirius said, his eyes down on Harry.
"He…" Harry stopped, realized his protest would go on deaf ears.
"We offered our services both as a favor to your parents and to you," Sirius said, "Please show some gratitude."
Harry watched Gia's eyes, knew the better to not try to explain his way out. Harry grumbled. Gia returned to the living room.
"Decide on what you want," Sirius said, "Your actions and your inactions show your choices, remember that."
Sirius left. Harry's mind lost all focus, and he stared at the quill in his hand, with the barbs of its vane, and the central shaft that ran the length of it.
Ron stood as Rita Skeeter continued working her hand to the quill, in the middle guest bedroom at Fred's and George's.
"Quick Quotes is quicker," Skeeter said.
Ron leaned forward.
"You two, together," Skeeter said, "Well, how are you getting on after the castration?"
"We're still figuring that out," Hermione said, "His brothers sell a lot of things to help."
"Not the first wizard with…problems," Ron said.
"True," Skeeter said.
"That enough material for an article?" Ron asked.
"More than enough," Skeeter said.
"Give us an advanced copy," Ron said, "A chance to correct things, and we'll be open to more interviews, handing over evidence."
A glint to her eye.
"Do that and I'll even try sweet talking Harry into an interview," Ron said, "Well, I would, except for that ASBO."
"That was Delores' doing," Skeeter said.
"Please do right on this," Ron said, "Entire fate of the wizarding world may lay in your pen."
Ron realized he spoke the magical words of encouragement to her, the brief smile to her face.
"Good thing I know you're fixed," Skeeter said as she stood, "Otherwise I couldn't leave you two alone without a chaperon."
"Thank you," Ron said.
"About wraps this up," Skeeter said, rolling up the parchment.
Ron opened the door, motioned.
"Lovely both of you," Skeeter said, "Talk to you both soon."
Skeeter, in her light green robes, went first. Ron followed her down the stairs. Two lefts, down to the bottom of them.
"You can use the fireplace," Ron said.
Ron spotted his father on the sofa.
"Hello Arthur," Skeeter said, as she went for the fireplace.
A handful of Floo Powder, she vanished.
"Know who that was?" Arthur asked Ron.
Hands grabbed Ron's foot, Edward below. Ron squatted, picked Edward up, held him.
"Yes," Ron said, "Weasleys are fighting back."
Ron wished he could get Harry to do the same, instead of sulking trying to avoid it.
Already mid afternoon as Gia held Harry's ribcage up on her hands, him above her, the bottle green eyes. His legs, his feet against hers.
"Sorry about earlier," Gia said, "But, before you—what'd you do at Lupin's to have him send you home?"
"Nothing," Harry said, struggled, and he dropped between her hands.
Harry crawled on her, kissed. An alarm.
"Stop!" Gia snapped.
Harry glared.
"Mean it," Gia said, pushed him up and off her.
"Sorry," Harry said, climbing back over her, "Can go fast, I like this."
"Stop," Gia said, "Stop now."
Gia got up, and Harry whimpered.
"Not going to work," Gia said, "Like you not explaining why your session with Lupin was cut short. I've got a memorial to attend."
Harry sat there, arms folded, glared.
"That's it Harry Potter!" Gia said, "Clear out until you can act, act like you used to."
"What do you mean by that?" Harry snapped.
"I am going to that memorial," Gia said, "You are not."
Gia left the bedroom. Harry apparated in front of her.
"I told you—" Gia said.
"You need protection," Harry stated.
"Snuffles will suffice," Gia said, "If you follow, you will have nothing left to protect."
…
As Harry watched Gia head down the stairs, he returned to the bedroom, and kicked the bed.
Hoot!
Hedwig's big eyes glared at him.
"Blimey!" Harry grumbled, it was slipping from him.
Harry's broom leapt out, and Harry wondered. Harry mounted it, flew out the window, into the darkening evening. He headed north, over the roads, the hills, came fast to London, went for Big Ben. As he neared the belfry, the drop to beneath him seemed tempting.
Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong! Bong!
Within the deepening dimming from the crescent of the moon, a tendril of red reached out, grabbed Harry, and total darkness came to him as he fell. A tower clock shattered, Harry managed to get back onto the broom in his hand, came to a fast stop on the barren road. Harry shivered as he walked along the desolate road, the starlight above his only guide, even that crack of a moon wasn't there. A newsstand, Harry grabbed the top paper, wand in his hand, the light from it let him read it.
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Sun Fusion Stopped
For reasons that baffle scientists, fusion within the Sun is about to end. Royal observatory estimates a week before total darkness. Astrologists warn of chaos to come as oxygen levels in the atmosphere will plummet with the end of photosynthesis.
A pop in the distance, a scream, and a whispering beneath the bridge. Harry's wand light vanished as he mounted his broom. Over the edge of the bridge, he went across the Thames frozen over, a small fire to the other side, by a tree that was cut. Two men were around it.
"If I get my hands on that bloke," the first man said, "That genius who called himself Harry Potter, that's the fellow that got us in this mess."
"Should've killed himself when he got the chance," the second man said, "We'd still have our sight if it weren't for his damn curse, instead, it's the death of us all."
"Skin him," the first man said, "Waste of food on him."
Harry mounted his broom, flew it, heard the laughter in the distance, the familiar laughter. Across the Thames, to Trafalgar Square, where instead of the pillar of Neslson's Column, it was a billowy robe, the head draped in black, and body that dangled from a rope. Harry flew up, recognized the frozen stiff, the black hair, the bottle green eyes, the lightning bolt scar.
"SOMEBODY'S UP THERE!" came a shout.
Harry reached, felt the frozen flesh, the skin that felt like real skin.
"THERE!" came a second shout.
A pop of apparation, the curses that started to move. Harry flew his broom, spotted the tendril of red near the collapsed belfry. Harry headed straight for that tendril, the one that grabbed him, pulled him up toward the dead moon, and enveloped him. Harry fell, blacked out.
Date: Thu Jan 4 09:53:35 2024