In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 50: Cardiff
"Hermione!" came the holler, early Friday morning, "Hurry or you'll be late."
"Late?" Hermione muttered as she rolled out of bed, realized she had taken on Ron's habit and distaste for an early start.
"Come!" Linda said as she opened Hermione's bedroom door.
"Mum!" Hermione protested, pulled her duvet to cover her, "I'm indecent."
"Like I don't know what's there," Linda said.
"Besides the point!" Hermione said.
"Don't have time for a shower," Linda said, "Come along."
Hermione dressed fast, came.
"Ready?" Charles asked as she came down the stairs.
"Ready for what?" Hermione asked.
"A slot opened up," Charles said, "Test you for GSCE, see if you can go straight into university."
"Are you—?" Hermione stammered.
"We already paid the fee," Charles said, "With a bit of effort, you can catch up before spring finals."
"I'm returning to HOGWARTS!" Hermione shouted.
"Sorry, you're not," Linda said, "You've not settled any of our concerns and we're responsible for you."
"All you need to do is sign the withdrawal form," Charles said, "We'll do the rest. Now, get in the car."
"NO!" Hermione shouted, "You don't care! You've never loved me. I'll run away! If I never see you again, it's too soon!"
Hermione bolted, returned to her bedroom, closed the door, and used her wand; sealed the door shut. She went to her diary.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Diary,
Wish I had Fluffy around to sort things out. I'd stoop so low as to take Ron back—maybe never.
Malfoy? My parents make him seem gentle.
I now know how Harry felt, every time he complained about it, I didn't truly understand.
One rejected owl, many ignored knocks and pleas through her door, hours after she had slammed it shut, she was still on her bed, when the high pitched wailing blared. Smoke came through the crack of her door. Hermione bolted up, opened the door. Wave of her wand, the smoke dissipated before she went down the stairs, and she stashed her wand back into her pink jumper.
"Finally!" Charles said, operating the source of the smoke, a smoke machine.
"YOU!" Hermione stammered.
"I spoke with my brother," Linda said, "Figured the best way to sort this out is for you to cool down."
"I'm returning to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked.
"Get packed," Charles said, "Train leaves shortly."
"It's before—" Hermione said.
"Don't be daft," Linda said, "Uncle Jarod and Aunt Cindy would be happy to host you, let you clear your head, and see you."
Hermione was unsure, though, the offer to be away from her parents was better.
"Hurry," Charles said.
Linda followed Hermione back up to her bedroom.
"Here," Linda said as she handed Hermione a small box, Ron's silver ring inside.
"Don't need that," Hermione snapped as she threw the box beneath her bed, "Lemme—"
"Light—one bag only," Linda said as she handed over a normal royal blue duffel bag, "Enough to get you started, let Aunt Cindy take you out to change your wardrobe."
"I need—" Hermione glanced at her trunk in a chain, "I need my pills."
"Pills?" Linda asked.
"You know BIRTH CONTROL!" Hermione snapped.
"You're not expecting Ron," Linda said.
"Can't stop—a pitfall," Hermione said, "Unless you want me to become pregnant, not be able to complete my medical studies." She knew how to exploit desires too.
"Alright," Linda said as she dialed in the combination, "I'm watching."
Hermione opened the trunk, pulled out the packet.
"We clearly got off to a bad foot for your holiday," Linda said, "We'll figure out your university when you get back."
Hermione packed in her quill set, her diary, and two changes of clothes. She wished she could overtly use her wand, but that had to remain hidden in her pink jumper. Instead, she followed her mother back out, down to the car, and got in.
"Don't be like that," Linda said.
Hermione stared out the car window as she was driven to the station. Hermione took the train ticket.
"Love you," Linda said as Hermione got out.
"Shove it," Hermione snapped, "Don't care if I never see you again!"
Hermione went to the platform and waited. She glanced at the ticket, a return with a flexible return in sixty days, and the train came into the station. Hermione carried the duffel bag onto the train, wishing her anger to become true.
Ron took the letter from the owl as soon it came for him in 93 Diagon Alley, better known as Weasley Wizarding Wheezes.
"Personal correspondence should be conducted off the clock," Fred said, "Which is in ten minutes—unless you want to go and offend Gringotts, again."
Ron put the letter into his back pocket, his letter to Hermione had been returned unopened, again. Ron returned to scooping the fire beetles out of the large box and into the smaller ones. Smoke came from the cardboard, and Ron had to sprinkle more water in.
"What is it with women?" Ron asked, loud.
"The wizard who finally figures that out," Fred said as he came in close, "Would be rich beyond his wildest dreams, because he could bottle it up and sell it."
"That answer," Ron muttered.
"Always other options," Fred said, "Maybe one will slip you a love potion, get you hooked?"
"Shouldn't need help," Ron said, realized he had quoted from Harry's perspective, one that Harry never spoke, though lived.
A bird tweeted in the distance, before the chimes of Big Ben came through.
"Go mail your letter," Fred said, "Lets see how fast she rejects it this time."
Ron groaned, left the shop, returned to the Leaky Cauldron, and rented another owl. Within twenty minutes, Ron was already entering four and one third Blackfoot Yard. Already, the living room was crowded. Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Tonks, Lupin, and Snape were there. Along with Fred and George. Snuffles, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Amelia Bones, Mad–Eye Moody, and more that Ron didn't recognize, were there.
"Ron, over here," Professor Lupin said.
Ron stepped through people, to get to Professor Lupin at the bar.
"Know who these are?" Professor Lupin asked, who gave a quick glance to the light brown hat on Ron's head.
"Recognize most," Ron said.
"Bit of an order, a legion of people, sworn to fight You–Know–Who," Professor Lupin said, "Albus Dumbledore, is, the most persuasive member here."
"Oh…is this the OLD crowd?" Ron asked as the room quickly went quiet.
"We prefer the term experienced," said Professor Lupin, "Thank you very much."
Ron snickered.
"Your little trip into the Ministry left an impression," Professor Lupin whispered, "Suggest you go upstairs while we debate the merits of bringing you into this order."
"Are you serious?" Ron said, "I didn't do it to impress, I did it to rescue Dad from…from there."
"Outside or upstairs, if you'd please," Professor Lupin said, "There's not many places left to meet without risk of discovery."
"Yeah," Ron said, grabbed a couple of drumsticks.
"There goes your pay!" Fred said as Ron went for the stairs.
"This order—?" Ron asked as he entered the bedroom.
"Order of the Phoenix," the hat whispered, "Rebranded by Godric Gryffindor to counter the threats of Dark Wizards and Witches that may arise. Currently led by Albus Dumbledore, it is a prestigious group to be affiliated with."
"Afraid of that," Ron said as he sat next to his journal. He took his quill and began to write.
…
"Ronald got this rolling," Remus Lupin said, "How can we get Arthur Weasley back?"
"Unfortunately Mr. Weasley does not have a solicitor on file," Albus Dumbledore said, "However, we could draft a petition on his behalf, visit to get a signature."
"In Azkaban?" asked Severus Snape.
"I am still the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards," said Albus Dumbledore, "I have the right to inspect, which I plan to exercise."
"Make sure the Ministry keeps good on its promise to return you from Azkaban," Kingsley Shacklebolt said.
"Minerva will prepare the appeal over the holiday," Albus Dumbledore said, "Next matter, as one of them has demonstrated an ability to dig information out of formidable places, I'd like to start the induction for new members, specifically, Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger."
"There goes the order," said Severus Snape.
"Humor aside," said Albus Dumbledore, "Can we state, without question or reservation, they have and will continue to fight against Voldemort and his devices? Their courage is without question, and if joined, they'd be able to contribute."
"No offense, but these are teenagers, underage at that," said Nymphadora Tonks, "Can they cope with the stress, not to mention, the rebellious streak of youth?"
"Growing pains," said Albus Dumbledore, "I think we can manage handling that aspect and helping them through it. Next week, I plan to present a case for their induction."
"I'm surprised we've waited this long," said Remus Lupin, "I've seen them demonstrate… Our ranks are thin, we need them, more than ever."
"I'll speak for those who can't," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, "Molly Weasley would've been against this, for reasons typical of a mother. They're children and their youth should be as innocent as possible, she'd object to assigning them responsibilities that could get them killed."
"An attempt was made on one of them at the age of one," said Severus Snape, "While I loathe Potter, this order could improve certain deficiencies of his character."
"He's my brother," George said, "He's already contributed to trying to get Dad out of jail. That took guts, he can make a difference…was I just possessed?"
Snickers.
"By family pride," said Nymphadora Tonks, "I'm hesitant due to Potter's reluctance to even attempt the Killing Curse in Defense classes let alone master it, something most students are eager to learn so they can say they know it. Potter can't kill if he wanted to, something he might have to do in this Order."
"Consider his background," Mad Eye Moody said, "Being on the receiving end of one doesn't exactly help."
"I'm trying to help him," Nymphadora Tonks said, "His marks are going to suffer in DADA due to that."
"It's Harry's best subject," Remus Lupin said, "Even better than Potions."
"All of his marks are better than in Potions," said Severus Snape.
"Correction," Remus Lupin said, "It'd be true even with a competent—"
"Can we stop bickering," Mundungus Fletcher said, "I have an urgent business transaction to tend in a short while."
"Are there any hard objections?" asked Albus Dumbledore.
"We still vote, right?" Nymphadora Tonks asked.
"After I present a case next Friday," Albus Dumbledore said, "In the meanwhile, let us adjourn. I'm famished."
"Refreshments for sale!" Fred announced, "Nice selection of cakes and Butterbeer!"
Hermione spotted the brown owl flapping outside the window of the carriage as soon as they had cleared the Severn tunnel. She opened the window.
"Go back before I have to curse him!" Hermione snapped. Her wand drawn, she remembered the charm to keep Ron's owls away, and she cast it.
The owl glared before it left. A couple of announcements, and Hermione stood up as they left Newport, made for the door as they approached Cardiff Central. She slung the strap of the royal blue duffel bag over her shoulder, went along with the crowd, and left the station.
"Hermione!" came the holler.
Hermione turned, the same bushy brown hair she inherited, it was her Aunt Cindy, arms stretched out. Hermione let her hug. Hermione followed Aunt Cindy out to a light blue station wagon.
"So," Aunt Cindy said as they got in, "How's my niece?"
Good question, Hermione thought.
Aunt Cindy started the engine, drove, and they turned left at Clare Road.
"Could be better," Hermione said, "Had a row with my ex–boyfriend, think I took it out on Mum and Dad, though they weren't being kind either."
"Thinks will work out," Aunt Cindy said, "You're smart enough. Uncle Jarod is eager to see you."
"Has been a while," Hermione said, as she started to count the years on her fingers.
"Tried seeing you last summer," Aunt Cindy said, "But your Mum said you were traveling."
"Yeah, that," Hermione said.
Aunt Cindy parked on the side of the street, in front of the last house of the row. Hermione got out, approached the door, and it opened.
"Hermione!"
Hermione was squeezed around the waist by an eight year old girl, her cousin Trenise. On a chair, at a computer, his back toward them, more engrossed by the shooting on the screen, was her other cousin here, twelve year old Mark.
"Hello," Hermione said.
"Huh," Mark said while he pressed the button on the mouse, eyes fixed to the screen.
Bang! Bang!
"Uncle Jarod's going to be late," Aunt Cindy said as she closed the door, "Trenise, top or bottom?"
"Top…no, bottom," Trenise said.
"Take the bottom bunk," Aunt Cindy said to Hermione.
"Ta," Hermione muttered.
"Trenise—bath!" Aunt Cindy said.
"NO!" Trenise wailed.
Hermione went up the steps, took a hard right, the flowers on the wall were the hint. A small bedroom, two beds to the bunk, an ode to a time her cousins were smaller and could share the bedroom. She took out her diary, set it on the desk, along with her ink jar and quill.
A scream and a thump. Hermione woke early Saturday to feet rattling.
"No!" Trenise yelled.
"Resistance is futile," Mark said as he advanced in the bedroom, his eyes to the top bunk. "You shall be assimilated."
"No! No!" Trenise screamed.
"It's…" Hermione started, her eyes on the clock, four in the morning.
"We must assimilate all," Mark said as he reached into the top bunk.
"No!" Trenise shouted as she jumped off the bed.
Mark ran after her, chased Trenise out of the bedroom. Hermione sighed, wondered if she could get back to sleep.
WHUMP!
Blood curdling scream came from the stairs.
"MUM!" Mark shouted, "MUM!"
Hermione heard the other door, lights went on, and footsteps went down the stairs.
"Jarod," Aunt Cindy shouted up, "Call an ambulance."
Hermione pulled on her pink jumper as she got up.
"She fell," Mark said.
"Back to your room," Aunt Cindy said.
"They're on their way," said Uncle Jarod.
"Hermione!" Aunt Cindy shouted.
Hermione came out of the bedroom, Trenise crumpled on the lower landing to the stairs.
"Honey," Aunt Cindy said, "We're taking Trenise to A and E, don't know when we'll be back."
"Um…sure," Hermione said.
Hermione stayed standing at the top as the rush came from beneath. A paramedic showed, helped escort Trenise out. Hermione turned to Mark.
"Best if you prepared an apology," Hermione said.
"Done on the computer," Mark said as he went down the stairs.
Hermione sighed, went back into the bedroom, onto the bed, and pulled the covers back on.
"Shoo!" Hermione said to Pigwidgeon as the small bird fluttered into the room, "Send it back!"
Hermione tried to fall back to sleep.
Ron found himself being shaken awake that morning, in the spare bedroom of his brothers.
"Wake up! Ginny exclaimed as she pulled the bed covers to the floor.
"Prat!" Ron said.
"Why fret about that scrawny thing?" Ginny said, "Colin's at his parents so you're—"
"It's a holiday!" Ron protested, "You know, sleep in!"
"I could get mugged out there," Ginny said, "Got places that I want to go."
"Bit early for the train," Ron snapped.
"Took the one last night," Ginny said, "I asked Fred and George, they volunteered you!"
Pig flew in, dropped letters to Ron's feet.
"Blimey!" Ron said, "You are supposed to DELIVER these to them! I wrote them!"
Ron tossed them to the side, and grabbed his bathrobe. He followed her down the stairs, to the living room.
"Thanks for taking the BETTER bedroom!" Ginny snapped.
"Got here first," Ron said as he grabbed The Daily Prophet and began to peruse.
"Suspension!" Ginny said, "If only Mum knew."
"She doesn't," Ron said, before he laid the paper open, to a letter buried on the fifth page.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
I, Harry Potter, hereby apologize to the public and Severus Snape for attacking him after Potions, necessitating him in injuring me in self–defense. I regret my actions and will contemplate how I can be a better wizard during my short suspension from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry over the winter holiday.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
"Blimey!" Ron said.
"Already overheard the debate," Ginny said, "Apparently you–know–who wrote one for him."
"Umbridge?" Ron asked.
"Very same," Ginny said, "Want to tackle that, or, follow me around London?"
"Can you fix Hermione?" Ron asked.
"That's something you'll have to do on your own," Ginny replied.
Ron wondered about about his undeliverable letter to Harry and the rejected letter from Hermione.
Hermione went back down the stairs, Mark had his back hunched over as he sat in front of the computer in the living room. On the screen, turrets.
"That's a game?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah," Mark said.
"What's it called?" Hermione asked.
"Half–Life," Mark said, "I'm busy."
Hermione glanced at the clock, quarter to ten, figured some fresh air would do her good. She went back up the stairs, to the bedroom. Hermione sighed at her lack of selection, an artifact of being forced to pack light. Muggle blue denim jeans, and a red T–shirt, one of Ron's red Gryffindor T–shirts. Hermione went for a green, the clash was the lesser of the two evils, before she pulled her pink jumper on.
"Ack!" Mark yelled from the living room below.
Hermione rushed down the stairs.
"What's—" Hermione started.
"Likely using a bot," Mark said, "Fucking jerk took me out through the wall."
Mark clicked the buttons to rejoin.
"Going out," Hermione said.
"Uh…whatever," Mark replied.
Hermione left the house into the frigid air beneath the mostly cloudy sky. She cast a warming charm, and walked. A bit hungry, she went to the Asian Ocean near the bookstore, entered. After paying, Hermione went to the salad bar.
"Hello."
Hermione turned. A deep blond haired boy with bluish green eyes stood there, he didn't tower like Ron, thin and about her height.
"Um…" Hermione muttered to the boy with a black shirt beneath a gray jumper.
"Haven't seen you around here," the boy said.
"Visiting," Hermione said.
"How long?" the boy asked.
"Holidays," Hermione replied.
Hermione realized he was flirting as he spoke, however, felt right to have payback at Ron.
"How old are you?" Hermione asked.
"Fifteen," the boy said, "You?"
"Sixteen," Hermione replied.
"Close enough," the boy said.
Hermione added on some pasta, went over to a table. The boy had some cucumber rolls along with his black pepper chicken.
"Seeing anybody?" the boy asked.
"No…broke up," Hermione said.
"Too bad, for him," the boy said, "Anyways, chopsticks—to use—"
He demonstrated the finger positions.
"I've used them before," Hermione said as she used a fork on the pasta.
"Doing anything today?" the boy asked.
"Not particular, why?" Hermione replied.
"Just asking," the boy said, "You look gorgeous, did you know that?"
Hermione shook her head, the flattery felt like a nice change from Ron.
"Attending university?" the boy asked.
Hermione took a moment to realize it was isolated banter.
"Sorry if that upset you," the boy said.
Hermione worked at her pasta.
"Bit of a disagreement with my folks over that," Hermione said.
"Your choice," the boy said, "Or so it should be."
"Ta," Hermione said, "They want to force me to become a dentist, like them."
"That sucks," the boy said, "What do you want to become?"
"Not that," Hermione said, "Um…" she realized she had to avoid it "…something else, not quite decided, but more noble."
"I don't really know," the boy said, "Maybe go into vocational, something more practical."
"That's…" Hermione drifted off, she had always assumed she'd be going to school, she hadn't considered not doing so.
Hermione finished her plate.
"Have you been to the Cardiff Castle?" the boy asked, "Right up the road? I'll take you there, if you want."
"Um…that'd be nice," Hermione said.
After the boy finished his food, they left the restaurant, and began to walk.
"Things to do," the boy said, "Though, it is Cardiff."
Hermione snorted.
"You're from—?" the boy started.
"Sleepy village south of London," Hermione said.
"Yeah, it's the country out here," the boy said as they walked along.
Hermione glanced at him, again, the deep blond, the hands in his gray jumper, and the black jeans.
"School's in the middle of nowhere," Hermione said, "Don't get out much."
Hermione kept walking with the boy, along the road. She wondered about Harry, though.
Ron set his mouth down over the small soft cake from Sibley's Cakes on Diagon Alley. Strawberry center around the small frog of fudge, the vanilla, all melted on his tongue.
"Thought you were going to share," Ginny said.
"You made me follow you around all day!" Ron said, "Least you can do is let me have my dessert—worry about dinner, later."
"Me, cursed to spend a day with my brother," Ginny said, "That's worse than anything you could imagine."
Ron stopped in the Leaky Cauldron, rented an owl.
"Like that'll make things better?" Ginny said as they left the Leaky Cauldron, "She's mad at you already."
Ron took the rolled up The Daily Prophet and bore it underneath his arm.
"Gotta keep trying," Ron said, "Maybe she'll forgive."
"You got Harry drunk," Ginny said.
"And Harry's not with Slytherin," Ron said.
"At the moment," Ginny replied.
Ron and Ginny returned to Blackfoot Yard, entered. Ron took The Daily Prophet out, opened it, and he came to a fast stop as his stomach dropped. On the front page, a photo of a burning house, a house he recognized that was engulfed in flames.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Muggleborn Granger Botches, Several Killed
Early this evening, a massive disruption was recorded by the Ministry in the vicinity of Noigate, home town to Muggleborn Hermione Granger, the infamous ex–girlfriend of Harry Potter from several years ago. The Granger house was set ablaze this evening with the Muggles responding, several bodies have so far been removed, one of which may be that of Hermione Granger. Whether this tragedy is the result of a Love Potion gone wrong, Harry Potter taking revenge on a backstabber and trying to cast a Dark Mark, or a domestic dispute involving Ronald Weasley, is unknown at this time.
"Ron!" Fred shouted as Ron bolted up the stairs.
Ron secured the hat to his head as he grabbed his Firebolt, ran back down.
"Certainly not in the middle of London!" George shouted.
"Blimey!" Ron said, as he turned opened the door, "I bloody hell—"
"Language!" Fred snapped.
Leg over his Firebolt faster than his siblings could move, Ron flew out the door, up into the air. Charing Cross Road, over the station and the Thames, Ron came to Waterloo station. He buzzed the station and heard the announcement.
"… and Noigate, has left platform three," an announcement called out.
Ron followed the train. Ron knew it to be slower than his broom, but it knew the way.
…
Two minutes after Ron left the house, Professor Dumbledore apparated into the living room.
"Professor!" Ginny exclaimed.
"If you would please mind," Professor Dumbledore said, "I need—" he wobbled on his cane, gripped it hard, "—a moment with your brothers."
Ginny started up the stairs, though loitered before the landing. She peeked at the mirror against the fireplace. Fred eased the Headmaster into an armchair.
"I'm fine now," said Professor Dumbledore, "I was hoping to find Ronald."
"He bolted," George said as he handed over The Daily Prophet.
"Understandable," said Professor Dumbledore, "Have you seen Mr. Potter at all? Has he been here?"
"No," Fred said, "Ron's tried to owl only to have it come back unopened."
"Tell Ronald that any information he has would be valuable," Professor Dumbledore said, "Especially now that Harry's missing."
"Harry's missing?" Ginny asked as she came back down the steps.
"By the simple definition, yes," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Ginny!" Fred scolded her.
"Like you, I'm concerned," Professor Dumbledore said.
"Okay," Hermione said as she left the movie theater in Cardiff, holding the hand of this boy, the deep blond hair and bluish green eyes, "Now I understand Mark! Guess Uncle Jarod snuck him out last night for it."
The boy laughed.
"Though, I can name one person I'd vote to be assimilated," Hermione said, her breath billowed steam under the street lights, "And he best not find me, lest he finds out."
"You're cool," the boy said.
They crossed the street, came to the row house. He faced her, the grin on his face, reminded her of Harry. Their lips came close together, before Hermione pulled apart.
"Hey," Hermione said, "I don't even know your name."
The boy chuckled as the door behind her opened, his eyes on her, not the lady coming out.
"HERMIONE!" came the holler.
"Just a moment, Aunt Cindy!" Hermione replied.
"It can't wait," Aunt Cindy said, "Hurry, inside."
"Busted," Hermione muttered, "Tomorrow?"
"I'd like that," the boy said.
Hermione turned, entered the house.
"You didn't bring your mobile, did you?" Aunt Cindy asked.
"Mum was strict on what I could bring," Hermione said.
"This way," Aunt Cindy said, "Mark, upstairs! NOW!"
"Fuck no!" Mark exclaimed.
Aunt Cindy reached over, toggled the switch on the outlet.
"NO!" Mark said.
"Upstairs!" Aunt Cindy repeated.
Mark stomped on the stairs, went up.
"What's so important?" Hermione asked as she spotted the tears wetting down Aunt Cindy's cheeks.
"Cheryl called right after the police showed up an hour ago," Aunt Cindy said, "There's been an incident…your home, your parents, I'm sorry, they're…gone, dead."
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Details are sketchy, fire's not been fully contained," Aunt Cindy said, "Go up, get some rest, we'll drive there first thing in the morning."
Hermione went up the steps, into the room, spotted Trenise with a new cast on her leg. Hermione sat down at the desk.
"What you doing?" Trenise said, "Funny pen."
"My diary," Hermione said, "Please, be quiet."
Hermione wrote.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Dear Diary
Guess this settles it, I'm returning to Hogwarts, because Mum and Dad can't refuse—they're now dead. Not sure if I'm happy or sad about it.
"Why burn that mudblood's house?" the Keeper demanded of the Seeker.
"Weasley's ex–girlfriend's house after his audit?" the Seeker said, "Any easier thing to spin? Besides, the Headmaster must be permitting Potter to visit his Muggle, she's even shown up at Hogwarts, likely with the assistance of that fireplace that's normally on the Floo Network. Now, Potter has one less place to hide."
"Wormtail," the Keeper said, "Please keep an eye on that town."
"May be several days until I can," Wormtail said.
"Bite Potter," the Seeker said to Wormtail.
"The Master has plans," Wormtail said, "Especially when it comes to Potter.
"Do not kill!" the Seeker said, "I understand that! Maiming is an entirely different matter."
"Do be careful!" the Keeper said, "Do you realize how much evidence you left behind? It simply had to be turned over to Muggle authorities. That Headmaster won't look twice after we toss him a bone."