In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 49: Auditor
Ron woke Thursday morning to a siren and an unfamiliar bed; he missed sleeping with his friends in Noigate. He double checked the holster on his right wrist, it came to show the two wands, before it vanished. He sniffed at the clothes that should've been washed already, figured they were good enough, and put them on. Plaid muggle over–shirt over his red Gryffindor T–shirt, and Ron went out the door. Down the steps, through the living room, to the cramped side with a small dining table, and sat down.
"He was expecting us to play House Elf," George said.
"I'll spot him a couple of extras," Charlie said as he leaned over the stove. More slabs of bacon and two more eggs went onto the pan. "I'm not Mum though."
"Better not be," Ron said, "Ta."
Fred burped little Edward, set him back down.
"Bill's too busy with work," Fred said, "Like we don't have a shop to run."
"You set your own hours," Charlie said.
"Gotta be there when people want to shop," George said, "We run the hours as late as the merchants association lets us."
"If we expanded into a pub, we could keep all sorts of hours," Fred said, "But that'd mean an end to experimentation in the shop."
"Doing something today?" Charlie asked Ron as the eggs and bacon came over.
"Hadn't thought it over," Ron thought.
"What's troubling you the most?" the hat suggested, "Something you can sort out without returning to Hogwarts?"
"Dad's arrest," Ron said as he worked on the bacon, "I dunno…can't quite describe it."
"Bit late," Fred said as he munched on some flakes of a cold cereal.
"Can't shake the feeling," Ron said as he finished his orange juice, "Seems funny."
"Dad's already in Azkaban," George said, "And we could use help at the shop—"
"Sorry," Ron said, "I've got other plans."
Ron adjusted the fit of the light brown outback hat as he left the house on Blackfoot Yard. It had been years since he had last used the entrance, however, he found the disused red phone box at the end of dilapidated road not too far from Charing Cross road. A tap to the buttons, and Ron slid down into the atrium. Went to the end near the gates.
"Wand?" asked the man.
"Left mine at home," Ron apologized.
Ron kept his eyes on the man that accepted the excuse, and Ron went to the lifts.
"Heard Dumbledore is stalling," said one wizard to another.
"He can because the Minister's caving," the other replied.
Ron got onto a lift, it descended.
"Level Eleven, Department of Audit and Legal Services," the female voice of the lift said as the doors opened.
Ron stepped out, onto the floor, and walked through doors into a room full of cubicles. Drab and dull off gray punctuated the room. Tail of his Muggle overshirt flapped as he strolled along, until he paused at the side of an empty cubicle labeled, "Donna Newingreen, Secretary of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee."
"Vigilance," the hat whispered to Ron.
Ron, though, went over the decorations. A "Harry Potter is a Menace" sign hung over a slew of photo clippings of The Daily Prophet while the desk held a pile of dossiers next to a list of girlie names.
"Guess what that's for," Ron muttered.
As Ron shook his head, he felt a tap to his shoulder. Ron spun around to Percy's glaring eyes.
"What," Percy demanded, "What are you doing here?"
"Came to see you!" Ron said as he poked Percy's stomach.
"I'm on the clock," Percy stated, "I do not have time to entertain guests."
Percy turned, walked away. Ron rushed and followed.
"Percy—" Ron whispered, "Need your help—"
"Follow me," Percy commanded.
Ron followed Percy through the cubicle maze, to one with a nameplate of "Percy Weasley, Auditor and Clerk." Inside this small, undersized box, was only one personal affect—his framed NEWT results. The rest of the cubicle, save the chair, were filing cabinets and piles of boxes containing other assorted folders and papers.
"I want to examine Dad's records," Ron said, "I mean, whatever put him into Azkaban."
"Matter's already settled," Percy said, "I've got no authority to reopen—"
"I want to see them," Ron said, "Can you get a—"
"I'm sorry, I've got a stack of work to finish before lunch," Percy said, "I'm risking my job as outsiders are not supposed to be in the auditor—"
"Peter, I—"
Ron turned, saw the thirty–something wizard in a tan suit approach with wireframe glasses on the olive skin.
"Sorry, Mr. Xavier," Percy said, "Ron was about to leave—"
"Can't believe you'd turn your brother away," Ron said.
"Isn't this Ronald Weasley?" Xavier asked, "Friend of—?"
"I'm trying to see our Dad's case files!" Ron said fast.
"Approved," Xavier said, "Well, somebody has to do today's audit." He signed on a small pad of parchment and tore off the top leaf. "Examine the finances of the investigation and have fun."
"Thanks!" Percy snapped at Ron as Xavier walked off.
"Why fret?" Ron asked, "You're—"
"Come!" Percy snapped, "You got me into this!"
Ron didn't need the sorting hat to realize Percy was grumpy as usual. Percy led the way.
"At least you've got me to help," Ron said.
"Aurors downright despise audits, they're among the worse lot," Percy said, "You get to deal with them."
"Didn't they reorganize?" Ron asked as they got onto the lift.
"That didn't go over as well as publicized," Percy said, "Exception is the new department, of course."
"Level two," the lift announced, "Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
Percy and Ron got off. Down a corridor of doors, to the one marked "Auror Headquarters."
"They like the title," Percy said, "Best not to argue."
Percy handed his form to the thin tall wizard behind the front desk, a Mr. Buckland who was missing a small chunk from his right temple.
"Early today," the wizard said, "Torture starts at one—"
"I am auditing today and I have a lot of other things to get done on top of this audit," Percy said, "A specific case is mentioned so I need the catalog."
"One moment to help the senile," Buckland said as he handed over a roll of parchment, "More important is the cleanliness of the office coffee pot!"
Ron peered over the shoulder while Percy scanned the catalog. Percy pointed to case AW961011, marked in red. Percy put the roll down on the desk.
"You know the way," Buckland said, "Unless we should squander precious time—"
"Follow!" Percy said to Ron.
"One moment!" Buckland said, "Only badged auditors—"
"He's my assistant," Percy asked, "Are you interfering with the audit?"
"No, go ahead," Buckland said, "Stay out of the way!"
"Cheery fellow," Ron muttered.
"That's him on a good day," Percy said as they moved along the cubicles. They reached a door guarded by an Auror.
"Audit!" Percy flashed his badge and the witch stepped aside.
Percy and Ron went through the door.
Percy walked past the majority of white cabinets, past the yellow ones, and came to a single red cabinet. He opened the cabinet and pulled out the red folder for AW961011. The Auror kept her eye upon them.
"Suppose there's little—" Ron started in a whisper.
"Squandering resources, them audits," The Auror said, "A career at Gringotts is better than being an—"
Percy leafed through the folder for a moment.
"We do dirty work—" Auror said, "Dangerous—and you auditors quibble over Knuts—"
"This is the one," Percy said.
They left the room of cabinets, entered a conference room. The Auror watched through the glass as Percy laid the folder down on the table.
"What's got you so interested?" Percy whispered.
"It got you fired!" Ron replied.
"That place was a dump," Percy stated.
"That's not fraud!" Ron said, "Sorry, but I don't believe the Daily Prophet—why's it red?"
"Classified as secret," Percy said, "Either an overzealous or new Auror."
Percy opened the folder on the table.
"I don't know what you expect to find," Percy said, "We have the Auror's report about the dilapidated state of the house—" He threw that onto the table "—and from Gringotts, the insurance contract of policy—" he tossed that onto the table "—and the claim form demanding more than the value of the policy—"
Ron grabbed the claim form, his eyes started to go over the numbers. Ron seriously wished he had Hermione with him to help.
"—notice of cancellation and a letter requesting prosecution," Percy continued, "An Auror noted the conflict of the claim. Short transcript from the trial that Dad didn't bother to attend—and the order of his imprisonment as carried out last month. Seems pretty self–explanatory."
Ron examined the forms as the hat got into his head.
"That's too cut and dry," Ron said, "I mean—he would've had this in front of him when he wrote out the claim. I mean, he would have known it was covered to five thousand Galleons—only that much? I can't see why it's fifteen. Could somebody have altered it?"
"All legal documents are treated in snake venom," Percy said as he stacked the other other documents into a pile, "Gringotts is no exception to that. Dad's signature formed a magical seal so that it cannot be altered."
"Snake venom," Ron wondered, "Could it—does it react to—?"
"Salazar Slytherin discovered the use of snake venom," the hat whispered to Ron, "That is why he's considered a great wizard, however, he never recorded its flaw."
"So this could have been altered by a Parselmouth?" Ron wondered, "Say, add that one?"
"Examine it carefully," the hat whispered.
Ron grabbed Percy's magnifying glass, examined the one.
"My," Percy said, "You are suspicious. Aurors will hate you as an auditor."
"Perish the thought," Ron replied.
"The wand of Fawkes," the hat injected.
Ron pulled out Harry's wand out.
"You failed to register that," Percy advised.
Ron brought the tip out as the one glowed green.
"Perfect Parseltongue would leave no trace," the hat whispered, "This was through the mouth of another."
"Percy," Ron said, "This claim has been tampered with."
"That's impossible!" Percy said.
"I am telling you—it's altered!" Ron said, "Look at the dates—more than a week passed between Gringotts receiving and reviewing the claim. That one was added after Dad signed. I know you and Dad never saw eye to eye, but to leave him in Azkaban when we still have a chance of proving his innocence? Don't tell me you're that cruel—"
"Alright!" Percy said, "If it will settle matters, we can talk to Gringotts! However, auditors cannot reopen the case—"
"At least we'll know he's innocent," Ron said.
"There's a big if in that," Percy said as he closed up the contents of the file.
"Worth a shot," Ron said as he stood.
…
"So," an irritated Cenek, the goblin, asked of Ron and Percy, a mere fifteen minutes later in the small room of Gringotts, "What exactly is it that you are accusing us of?"
"Lax security by allowing a document—" Ron started.
"Not the best tone!" Percy snapped.
"It was in their possession when it was altered!" Ron said, "Seal that nearly broke from the extra ink permeating it!"
"Elfric the Verifier will refute your accusation momentarily," the goblin stated, "We goblins pride ourselves—"
"Dad signed it, in person, here," Ron said as he pushed his finger against the table, "Your records documented that, therefore it was altered here."
"Elfric will assure us that your lies are just that!" the goblin seethed as he snapped his fingers.
Ron caught Percy's glance, the bewilderment within, the confusion between the Percy the rule keeper and the astonishment to the brazen display that Ron's putting on.
Another short goblin entered, monocle to his eye, fine silk suit, while carrying a portfolio. He brought his fingers to the document.
"As you can tell—this is from the Auror's case file," Ron said as he brought the Holly wand back to the document, the one glowed green, "That one, the basis for the fraud, was added after Dad signed it, but before you processed the claim."
Elfric opened the portfolio, pulled out an identical sheet of parchment, same document, same signature, same one on it, a one that also glowed green.
"I'd like to get Dad home by Christmas," Ron said to Percy.
"How to remedy this," Elfiric the Verifier said, "To keep this quiet—"
"I want reports on this," Ron demanded, "And at least a dozen copies of it."
"Reports? Copies?" Elfric said, "Those do not serve the interests of Gringotts."
"If pressed," Ron said, "Say a Dark Wizard circumvented your security—that's forgivable."
"Ron!" Percy scolded.
"Who else would have the motivation?" Ron replied, "Or the ability?"
"You'll have them to pursue the appeal," Elfric said.
Ron grinned as they waited.
"I don't know what's gotten into you!" Percy said as they left Gringotts, sealed rolls of parchment in hand.
"Dad got framed!" Ron said, "Doesn't that bother you in the least?"
"It…happens," Percy said, "Ministry's not exactly the tame waters of Hogwarts."
"There's far more going on here than we've found out," Ron said, "That's the only thing I'm certain of right now! While I'd wager that the Aurors do not like auditors upending their investigations—but I would have expected a better job from a first year student at Hogwarts! Get with it man—something really terrible is taking hold, something that endangers us all, and your bloody concern is whether the i's were dotted and t's were crossed before we're all bloody annihilated!"
They made it to the Leaky Cauldron.
"See you at Christmas," Ron said.
"Maybe," Percy said as he went for the fireplace.
Ron went out of the Leaky Cauldron, onto Charing Cross Road.
"A thinking hat you definitely are," Ron thought.
"You are welcome," the hat retorted.
Ron stopped by a Muggle pay telephone and stepped into the booth. He took out a slip of paper from his wallet before he dialed it.
Dad'd be proud that he finally learned how to use this, Ron thought.
"Hello?" Hermione's voice asked.
"Hi—"
Click!
Ron dialed the numbers again and somebody picked up.
"Hi—" Ron started.
"Never call again!" Hermione yelled as she slammed the phone.
Click!
Ron reentered the Leaky Cauldron and wrote on a piece of parchment,
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Hermione
Please, please talk to me, it's important.
Ron
Ron rented an owl and sent it off. He returned to the Muggle pay telephone, dug out another slip of paper, and tapped in the numbers.
"Hello?" Richard asked.
"Is Harry or Gia around?" Ron said, "Harry left school later than me, so seeing if he's there."
"Neither are here," Richard said, "Come to think about it, Gia is usually here by now. I'll leave a note—where can I call you back?"
"There's no telephone where I'm staying," Ron said, "Thanks anyways."
"I'll leave a note," Richard said, "Nice talking."
Ron hung up the handset.
"Who was that?" Linda Granger asked.
"Nobody," Hermione said as she tapped on the buttons, blocked the number. She wondered how resourceful Ron would be and whether she'd have to block every number in England.
"I can get your mind off of him, I promise," Linda said.
"How?" Hermione asked.
"Come along Darling," Linda said.
Hermione put her pink jumper on before she left the house, got into the car with her mother. In a few minutes, she recognized the parking lot of their dentistry practice.
"This?" Hermione asked.
"Been a while since your teeth have been cleaned," Linda said.
"Yes, but…" Hermione started, before she cut herself off. A detailed description of how the Hogwarts House Elfs prepare their food to prevent dental issues was likely not a welcome discussion.
"Your Dad's waiting," Linda said.
Hermione got out, went in, and was ushered into the back. Charles Granger came over in scrubs.
"Tell Yolanda she can take a short rest," Charles Granger said, "Not often I do the basics."
"Dad!" Hermione protested as another lady came in, sat.
"Lean back and don't think about anything," Charles Granger said as the chair's motors revved and tilted Hermione back, "Open wide."
Hermione opened her mouth, the high pitched squeal of the ultrasonic scaler began its work against her teeth.
"Honey," Charles Granger said as he worked, "We understand you've made friends at school, that's admirable. However, your health, welfare, and safety come first. Can you honestly say those are being protected at school?"
Hermione's mouth was full, the sensation of the water as the assistant kept the vacuum suction near the teeth.
"Your mother and I reviewed the letters we've gotten over the years," Charles said, "One at a time and everything seems alright. As a whole, though—sure it's exciting and all, but the amount of danger you're exposed to, it's too much for us to bear."
Hermione's mouth was still full, more vibrations as the device was moved around.
"You want to stay because you feel like you're helping," Charles said, "That's admirable, however, I help people every single day. It helps people keep their teeth healthy, isn't that noble too? A dentist is a respected member of society, held in high esteem, and there's much scholarship required; you'd love it."
Hermione wanted to protest, however, this gadget in her mouth seemed more menacing.
"Your Mum and I, of course we're a bit prejudiced to dentistry," Charles said, "It'd be wonderful if you could take over the practice when we retire. Through any field of medicine, a doctor is a savior and healer to many. It'd do your Mum and I a world of good to know you're saving people every day, one patient at a time, on the dentist's chair."
"You don't know me," Hermione said, the gadget gone, being replaced by a pick.
Scrape after scrape, Charles worked the rest of the plaque off her teeth.
"Nonsense," Charles said, "You're our daughter, of course we know you, and we want the best life for you. Nothing mean, nothing horrible, about that, is there? Your school no longer holds the best hopes and dreams for you, it's as simple as that."
"It does too," Hermione said.
A polisher came out, and was applied to her teeth.
"Sometimes dreams turn sour," Charles said, "Gotta toughen up, make the right call, and cut your losses; move on. Maybe you don't quite feel like making that decision, alright, but we'll help you explore what those other options are. Perhaps, come January, you won't feel like returning to your school, and you'll know what to do."
"I'm returning to my school," Hermione stated as the chair went back up, "That's final."
"A school that you're suspended from?" Charles said, "Lets go back to the house."
Hermione got up, went out, got into her father's sports car, the roof down.
"Cold," Hermione said.
"Get air," Charles said as they moved.
Hermione rolled her eyes, unamazed as they reached the thirty mile per hour speed limit. They made it back home. In the middle of the living room was her trunk, opened, while Linda Granger held a book.
"What—?" Hermione started.
"Not going to be needing these anymore," Charles said as he came in.
"No!" Hermione said, "It's my stuff!"
"We're not purging," Charles said, "Merely having you take a break from it, sequestering any and all—"
Hermione glared at her wand on top, the Ron's Puddlemere United Quidditch robes to the side.
"Think about how much you paid—" Hermione started.
"That's why we're not burning it," Charles said, "Anything that's magic, must go inside. We catch anything outside and…I'd rather not have to burn it, but I will."
Hermione began to fume, before her wit took her, as she spotted them.
"I still need to be able to write," Hermione said, "Quill and parchment, those aren't magical."
"Until she learns to use the computer?" Linda asked.
"Alright," Charles said, "Only those."
Hermione bent over, noticed her wand jump into a new roll of parchment while one of Ron's fake wands took it's place. She pulled out several quills, ink jar, and the parchment. She watched as everything else, including her school robes, went in. A chain went around her trunk, a padlock kept it closed.
"Your diary's still upstairs," Linda said.
Hermione ran up the steps, into her bedroom; it appeared ransacked, her knickers pulled out, the bookshelves empty. She put the wand up the sleeve of her pink jumper, set it on the desk, and sat.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Diary,
I'd rather have the Dursleys! That's awful, I know, but confiscating my magic while espousing on the joys of dentistry? Trophy daughter I'm supposed to be, ever submitting to their whims!
An owl flew in, she recognized the handwriting, Ron's handwriting. A wave of her wand, and the owl returned. She heard footsteps, stashed the wand back into the sleeve of the jumper.
"Honey," Linda said as she entered, "I know we seemed…harsh. Intervention always is, but it's for the right reason."
"Which is?" Hermione asked.
"You know it in your heart," Linda said, "At least you won't have to consider that boy as you're not going back." She set the silver ring on Hermione's desk. "Keep sake."
"Scram!" Hermione shouted as she turned around, "I don't want to see you!"
Linda backed away, and Hermione slammed the door shut. A flick of the lock, it was secure.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Mum and Dad don't know me anymore, they're fools holding onto a child of ten, not sixteen! On Ron, at least we agree, not going back, not changing my mind—that's as likely as Voldemort donating to the local food drive. Strange, no sign of Harry yet, I would've expected him to at least show up, maybe Ron warned him off to another location?
Hermione went over to her bed. She shoved the clothes onto the floor, laid on it, wondered about Harry.
Ron opened The Daily Prophet as he made his way to Blackfoot Yard, spotted the front page article.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dumbledore Derailing and Stifling Harry Potter Guidance Committee
by Rita Skeeter
Albus Dumbledore, a misguided fool, is meddling in and thwarting the efforts of the British Wizarding Community to rescue Harry Potter.
Dolores Umbridge, chair of the Harry Potter Guidance Committee, expressed her frustration with Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, for his lack of cooperation with the affairs of Harry Potter, for which Umbridge has cited numerous examples. Dumbledore has failed to keep Umbridge apprised of Harry Potter's condition — yesterday, Harry Potter was viciously backstabbed by ex–friend Ronald Weasley — Umbridge deplores the lack of security Dumbledore has afforded to Harry Potter to permit a shady ex–friend to get so close to this famous wizard. In another incident, Umbridge cites Dumbledore's refusal to let Harry Potter fulfill his wishes to become a Slytherin, the most prestigious house at Hogwarts. As further evidence of lack of concern, Dumbledore has refused to release the records of Harry Potter to this Committee. At every opportunity, the dingy old bat Albus Dumbledore refuses to cooperate with the Ministry or the Harry Potter Guidance Committee.
Ron gripped the knob to the red and green door of number four and one third, opened it. A Howler dropped as he came into the living room.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ronald
Never, ever, do that again!
Percy
"Bloody hell!" Fred said, "You've been busy. I went to do the daily deposit and found out the Goblins now dislike the name of Weasley."
"Might I inquire?" asked Professor Lupin at the small bar between the dining area and the kitchen.
"Dad was framed," Ron stated.
"Wishful thinking," George said.
"I've got proof!" Ron said as he pointed to himself.
"Ahem!"
Ron turned, Professor Dumbledore was already sitting on an easy chair next to the fireplace.
"Are you certain Ronald?" the Headmaster asked.
"Quite," Ron said as he pulled out his copies, including the Gringotts reports, "Quite clear that fraudelent claim was tampered, altered, after Dad signed it. That leading one, added."
Professor Dumbledore took the copies, pulled one open, secured another, and passed the rest around.
"Interesting," Professor Dumbledore said as he reviewed.
Ron caught the blue twinkling eyes, ones that were both impressed by his accomplishment, but were also searching for something deeper. Ron focused his attention to the parchment.
"Headmaster," Professor Snape said, "How could an immature wizard determine—?"
"He's your guest?" Ron asked.
"We took you in," George said, "He's here for the housewarming."
"Ronald," Professor Dumbledore said, "Please start from the beginning."
Ron explained the trip to see Percy and the audit.
"Ron," Professor Lupin said, "You're the first of us to have seen the case folder. And the tampering—"
"What is more fascinating is that this Weasley knew to look for this," Professor Snape said.
"Goblins said we insulted their security," George said.
Professor Lupin snorted.
"Only a complete idiot would try to fool the Goblins," Ron said to Professor Snape, "Dad was not an idiot and he filled out that claim in good faith! Therefore somebody—"
"Even the Goblins are at a loss for an explanation of how—" Professor Lupin read from the report.
"Which implicates—" Professor Snape said, before he pointed to Ron, "HIM!"
"Silence!" Professor Dumbledore commanded, "Ronald did us a great favor in uncovering this—and the simplest explanation is the most likely. If true, the implications are indeed staggering and we must redouble our vigilance."
"Professor?" George asked.
"Can we rely upon Percival?" Professor Dumbledore asked.
"Don't count on it," Fred snapped.
"I concur," Ron said, "He was miffed just by me visiting—"
"You did your father a great justice though it'll take time to appeal," Professor Dumbledore said as his twinking blue eyes turned back to Ron, "Now, what do you know of Harry?"
"What?!" Ron stammered as he felt the probe starting, "He was supposed to—"
"Nobody's seen him today," Professor Lupin said.
"Suspended," Ron said, "Or, so I thought."
"While he's indeed suspended, I never had the chance to tell him myself," said Professor Dumbledore, "He vanished from the Hospital Wing late last night. Noigate and Hogwarts have been searched to no avail. I was hoping you had an idea."
"Sorry," Ron said, "I do not."
"Thank you Ronald," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Upstairs or get out," George said.
"Huh?" Ron asked.
George came over, escorted Ron up the stairs.
"Sorry, but the living room's off limits to you," George said.
"Kicking me—" Ron started.
"Housewarming was a cover story for our little meeting," George said as they made it to the second floor, "Anyways, I'll deny I ever said this., but I'm impressed. You walked into the Ministry, found that, something they missed, and it's their sort of thing to find. Sure it'll take time to get Dad out, but you got it started."
Ron entered the bedroom, George closed the door. An owl fluttered into the room, dropped the letter, his letter, back to him. Ron sat down at the desk. He pulled out his journal along with Harry's wand.
"Does Harry need help?" Ron asked the Holly wand, considered what Harry'd be doing. "He's out there without you."
"As much as a wandmaker can read from a wand," the sorting hat said, "There's knowledge that cannot be ascertained when a wand is separated from its wizard."
"Lot of good you are," Ron snapped at the hat.
"Calm your temper, fledgling," the sorting hat said, "Haste lays waste, and hate leads to perished treasures. Consider carefully at all times."
Ron brought his quill to his journal.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry's missing and Hermione's pissed. Great, just great.
Ron bit on his quill as he considered it.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
What would Harry do?