In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 64: Pizza
"Damn! Damn!" Harry ripped off his cloak as they landed in Gia's bedroom. "My double—did that?!"
Ron already had his shirt buttons off, the same ones Harry fumbled at. Harry's tie remained as the shirt fell off.
"Unfortunately, Ron and I witnessed it," Hermione said.
Ron watched Harry's shirt tear as Harry slid down the edge of the closet door, slumped as he sat on the floor, knees propped, and stared downward toward Gia's dirty knickers on the floor.
"Any guesses to where those pictures will end up?" Harry grumbled. "Unfit to be published!"
"Sure, out of your character," Hermione said, "You—you check and double check consent, to the point it's annoying—"
"Ta," Harry muttered.
"Though…" Hermione's brown eyes turned to Ron, "You're utterly confident it was the impostor—"
"What more do we need?" Ron asked, "We know the real Harry—"
"Malfoy?" Harry asked.
"Sorry," Ron said, "Part of the crowd watching—wish it was."
A knock came from downstairs.
"I'll get it," Hermione said as she went out, down the steps.
Ron sat on the bed. Ron watched those bottle greens, as they roamed upward to meet Ron's blue eyes, interrogating. Ron didn't speak, let the memory of it replay in his mind, the glance at the rapist's eyes.
"Couldn't get more than his evil pride," Ron said, "Curious if I bought the disguise. Should we find him, I won't need a wand—knife will do."
Harry snorted.
"Hey!" Hermione's shouted up the stair well, "What do you know about an assessor?"
"LET HIM IN!" Harry shouted.
"CHAUVINIST!" Hermione shouted back.
Harry reached into his book bag, pulled out Stupefy! Stunnington's Auror Handbook.
"Guess Professor Tonks was right," Harry grumbled as he opened it.
"She thought it important you have it," Ron said, "Well, attic—?"
"On the fucking cover too," Harry said, "An Auror should maintain control at all times of the situation. Which explains their behavior, you violated their control and their authority."
"Buckland had it out for me," Ron said, "Seabrook hated me because I tried to do his fucking job!"
"Yeah," Harry said, "Blimey! Means that we—can't merely catch those doubles, but also hope there's no Aurors around, though we'll need credible witnesses who'd stick around to watch it unfold. Who'd believe us now?"
"Ginny," Ron said, trying to give up one name.
"It's like…they punched me," Harry said, "Wish they had…"
Harry tucked the book beneath his arm, stood. Bookbag dangled from its strap on his shoulder, and he went out the door. Harry pulled the trapdoor open. Ron followed up the ladder, into the attic.
"Lemme see," Harry said as he thumbed through the book, standing there in the attic.
"Got enough parchment for more essays?" Ron asked, setting his book bag down next to Harry's.
"Like essays will do us a load of good," Harry said, "Nah!"
Harry's wand appeared in his hand, and Ron felt the sudden pressure to his gut. Ron flew backward, his arse slammed onto the rough flooring along with his left shoulder.
"Cushioning Charms would be nice." Ron rubbed his shoulder as he started to stand up. His wand appeared.
"What are you two doing?" Hermione demanded as her head appeared through the trap door, "We've got a MUGGLE insurance assessor downstairs. You two start crashing about and she starts wondering—"
Ron ignored her, cast the curse. Harry flew backward as the book fell from his hands, slammed against the wall near the far chimney.
"As you're intent on killing each other," Hermione said, "Use SILENCING charms so we don't have to listen to it."
Hermione went back down, closed the trapdoor. Ron picked up and opened the book, Harry flung his hand with his holly wand. Metal darts emerged, flew past Ron to embed themselves into the rafters.
"I'd like to live," Ron said, his wand in his hand.
Harry grabbed at his own left forearm, pulled up his sleeve to reveal a new set of welts across it.
"You should've fought!" Ron exclaimed.
"This isn't right," Harry said, "Ought to be counting and stuff."
"Like a Death Eater plays fair," Ron said, "Be mindful of the Muggle. Do the Silencing."
Ron aimed his wand, cast the Cushioning charms all around the attic, when Ron's fourteen inch willow wand flew out of his hand. He glanced at the bottle green eyes over the smug grin, Harry twirled the wand in his fingers. Ron focused, his wand flew back toward him, when in mid air, it changed direction. Harry's holly wand left his hand, joined in Ron's, as they flew toward another pair of hands in the attic.
"Hi there," Lupin said, grin on his sullen face, and ratty suit coat, "Shouldn't have caught you off guard."
Harry glared, Ron stared at Lupin.
"Don't worry about me confining you to a cell," Lupin said, "Sit."
Lupin sat on the plywood floor, patted. Harry and Ron sat cross–legged.
"Good thing I was fired," Lupin said, "A teacher would be obligated to report underage wizardry. As to why the Ministry hasn't sent an owl—"
"They won't," Ron said.
"I won't ask how they're in the dark," Lupin said, before his eyes turned directly toward Harry's, "I offer my services to you as a tutor—"
"Tutor?" Harry stuttered.
"Hermione included," Lupin said, "Downstairs to chat with her?"
"Um…" Harry muttered.
"Got any tea?" Lupin asked.
Ron understood the subterfuge, though Harry took it.
"In the kitchen," Harry said, standing.
Harry went first for the ladder, Ron followed, and Lupin came down last. Ron closed the trapdoor.
"Ample room up there for some practice," Lupin said.
"Can do a bit more up there," Ron said, "Less chance of the muggles coming in on us."
"This house has muggles, right?" Lupin asked, as they went down the steps.
"Um…" Ron counted on his fingers, "Five if you include Gia, plus Jen who comes over regularly."
"How many know about magic?" Lupin asked.
"Two," Ron said.
"Keep it to two," Lupin said, "A bit of wand work between yourselves, the Ministry may overlook. Spilling to Muggles is a whole different offense."
Ron entered the living room, Hermione already sitting cross–legged on the other sofa, book between her legs, spiral notebook and pen on the coffee table. Ron sat to Hermione's left.
"The muggle?" Ron asked.
"Gone—you scared her away," Hermione said.
Ron shook his head.
"No, she got what she needed," Hermione said, "Took a couple of photographs, and left."
Harry brought out a tray of biscuits, a tea kettle, and tea bags. Lupin sat on the other sofa, across the coffee table from them. Harry sat to Hermione's right. Harry took a cup, poured in hot water and added a tea bag, handed it over to Lupin.
"Interested?" Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, he poured her a cup, added a tea bag. She held it in both hands, blew across the surface for a couple of minutes, before she sipped.
"A good bookie would not accept any wagers on you being suspended, because that's more or less a guarantee," Lupin said, "Is it not?"
"Seems like it," Ron admitted.
"While suspended, your options for training seem bleak," Lupin said, "Even when you're at Hogwarts, things don't seem to fare well if Severus' complaint is anything to go by."
"True," Harry said.
"I formally offer my services, to tutor you, while suspended," Lupin said, "I've already spoken to Mad–Eye and he's willing to assist."
"Seems a bit fishy," Harry said.
"Will you forget about Dumbledore?" Lupin said, as he leaned forward, "This is about you Harry. You may be the best at Hogwarts in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you don't have the luxury of a mere NEWT exam. You need to be the best, period, better than an Auror, better than—you can't settle for second place. Any guesses to who is responsible for your current mess?"
"Voldemort," Harry stated.
Hermione squeezed Ron's hand.
"Ultimately, yes," Lupin said, "Their campaign is working and it's very effective—wouldn't you agree?"
"Unfortunately," Ron said.
"Maybe a dozen on this Isle would come to your rescue, today, if pressed," Lupin said, "Half of them bear the name of Weasley. So, whether the goal of that campaign stops at your expulsion is…academic. What matters is that you are being stripped of the opportunities that an education would afford, of bettering your skills, because we both know Voldemort's still learning. Stop learning and you become stale, left behind as yesterday's hero, a zero. Learn, and you've got a chance at beating him."
"Fat chance," Harry said.
"If you think that, then you've already lost," Lupin said, "Otherwise, I intend to help you see you overcome this hurdle, train up. And, of course, Dumbledore's aware of this too, but it's my idea and you're free to decline. Judging how I was able to capture your wands, you're not particularly good at handling your own protections."
Ron caught the grin on Hermione's face.
"Your ideas for tutoring?" Hermione asked, clearly trying to push this forward.
"Been your teacher before so that gives us a start," Lupin said, "As you're all adults in the eyes of the law, I will treat you as such—may be difficult for me, but I promise to try."
A wry grin, Harry snorted.
"I admit it's tough when I still remember James thrilled as he played with a very young Harry," Lupin said.
"Gia'll be interested to hear all about that," Hermione said.
"Another time, perhaps," Lupin said, "First, lets work out a schedule by assuming you're always suspended. We'll work around any days you're not."
Harry snorted as Hermione reached for the notebook and pen. Hermione flipped to an open page.
"Takes a bit to get reacquainted," Hermione said as she wrote in the days of the week, "Easier to get than parchment."
"Self Defense, Tuesdays and Thursdays," Ron said, before he caught Lupin's glance. "Taking an evening course on Muggle techniques, you know, so Harry can punch You–Know–Who in the noggin."
Lupin snorted.
"Glad you're taking some initiative," Lupin said, "Unlikely that's how it'll end, but never know, could simply need to pull out a mandrake at the right moment."
"Dates on Friday," Harry said, his fingers curled his Gryffindor tie.
"You're optimistic," Hermione snapped.
Ron took the spiral notebook, ripped out the current page, and wrote on it, Monday to Friday, twelve to one.
"We need more than that!" Hermione ripped the pen out of Ron's hand. "We take school hours! With or without a tuto present, agreed?"
Harry began to open his mouth, his eyes focused on Hermione, Ron spotted the dangerous eye flash reflecting off Harry's bottle green eyes, and Harry closed his mouth.
"Good," Hermione said.
"While you shouldn't restrict yourself to those hours, we'll start there, and work with what we've got," Lupin said, "As you're all being adults about this, I don't want to hear any whining. I am ware that Professor McGonagall gave you the course syllabus for the rest of the year. I suggest you work on that when I'm unavailable…whether it's monthly or not. Also, persuade her into next years', if possible."
Ron stared at Lupin's sullen eyes, the desperation of wanting them to go along apparent. Hermione's grin and Harry's blank stare reflected.
"Not all in a day, of course," Lupin said, "As you poked so light of, know what it'll take to kill Voldemort? You all know how seemingly insignificant facts can make a difference, whether it's a rat disguised as Peter Pettigrew. As adults, I expect you to take responsibility and do this of your own accord."
"I've escaped—" Harry started.
"Will luck get you through the next encounter?" Lupin said, "Did you accomplish all you should've at your last?"
Harry shook his head. Ron caught the bottle green eyes, the sense of drowning in guilt coming to him.
"Punch em?" Ron asked.
"What if something you learn allows you to defeat him once and for all?" Lupin said, continuing as if he were uninterrupted, "Wouldn't that make this all the more worthwhile? Maybe the secret is a potion—poison him first before you attempt a Killing Curse? You need every advantage you can get—and they are trying to strip you of that advantage. Not to mention there's the question of what you'll do after you defeat him—"
"We're not certain about the after—" Harry said.
"If you're convinced you'll die in the act of his defeat, you'll certainly find a way to make it happen," Lupin said, "On the lives of Lily and James and yours—please don't. Please plan on life after him—don't idly surrender it. Learn, not only to defeat him, but to also live life after he's gone."
"Neither may live—" Harry started.
"Foolish to even mention that," Lupin said, "Few know of it, idly spreading it about would make him seek—"
"Harry's told us—" Ron started.
"He already knows," Harry stated, "Knows it in full."
"I hope you've informed Dumbledore," Lupin said, "Real prophecies are stored deep within the Ministry of Magic. Only the parties to whom the prophecy concerns can get it—you or him. For him to get it in full—unless you told him—would be for him, himself, to get it."
"Oh," Harry said.
"The fate of your education rests in your hands," Lupin said, "Those of us in the Order willing are assist you—Shacklebolt, for instance, or Fred and George—"
"Turn You–Know–Who into a yellow canary!" Ron exclaimed.
Lupin chuckled.
"Wish that's all it'd take," Lupin said, "Enough could be persuaded to feed it and water it and change its papers once a day until it died out—much simpler that way. However, likely requires knowledge on Harry's part here—we are fighting an adversary who's well versed in magic, maybe better than Dumbledore. You do not have an easy task Harry."
"I know," Harry said.
"That's why we're helping," Lupin said, "We're fighting him, and know you're the key to defeating him. But I also want to help you, ever have since that day on the train."
Harry sighed.
"Some people hate being helped," Hermione said.
"I know," Lupin said, "Now, I'll readily dismiss teenage antics, others will not. I strongly urge you to start on those essays, if you've not already done so."
"Get your bags," Hermione said to Harry and Ron, "Dining table's wide open."
"We'll figure out the best way to do wand–work," Lupin said, as he stood, "Good day."
"Thank you Professor," Hermione said.
"I was fired, no longer a Professor," Lupin said.
"You are to us," Harry said.
"Thank you," Lupin said, "Keep in touch."
Lupin disapparated.
"Go, get them," Hermione said.
Ron stood, followed Harry back up the stairs, opened the trap door, climbed the ladder. They grabbed the straps on their bookbags, and the book, Stupefy! Stunnington's Auror Handbook.
"Great, essays," Ron grumbled as he climbed back down the ladder.
"He sure talked us into that!" Harry grunted, as he closed the trap door.
They went back down the stairs, and entered the dining room.
"We'll also do essays on this," Harry said as he set down Stupefy! Stunnington's Auror Handbook on the table.
Hermione picked this up, skimmed it, as Ron sat down two spots from her, across from Harry.
"Focus on the assigned ones first," Hermione said, "But yes."
Ron glared at Harry's bottle green eyes.
"Like we needed MORE!" Ron threw at him.
"I hate it too," Harry replied, "But we need it."
"True," Ron grumbled back.
"Deal?" Ron asked Hermione, "Two essays and a hand job?"
"You're dreaming," Hermione said, her quill went to her parchment.
Ron took out his Transfiguration book, and began to read. Minutes turned to hours, and essays were written.
"My hand hurts," Ron complained, the sky outside already darkening from the approaching evening, "Third Transfiguration essay so far, doubt I've learned anything!"
"Me neither," Harry said as he pointed his wand at a tea cup in the middle of their books and parchment scattered about, it turned into a blue biting cap.
Harry put the cap on his head, his ears were promptly bitten.
"Ow!" Harry muttered, though it was already a bleak day.
"Only seven more to go until you're done for the sixth year," Hermione said.
"Yay!" Ron quipped with faked enthusiasm, "Care to bang?"
"Hmph!" Hermione snorted.
Harry adjusted his Gryffindor tie, still on.
"Hi!" Gia said as she came in through the back.
"You—" Harry said, "It was that time, already?"
"I waited," Gia said, "You never showed."
"Try calling?" Harry snapped.
"Every day," Gia said, "Hasn't changed."
"You—" Harry started, his eyes focused on Hermione's brown eyes, "So much—"
"Your schedule is your schedule," Hermione snapped.
"Don't take it out on her," Ron said to Harry.
Harry glanced, spotted more heads approaching, shuffled his papers and books into his book–bag. Ron and Hermione caught the drift, did the same, and closed their school bags as Richard and Jen entered.
"Homework, right?" Jen asked.
"That's what you think," Harry said, "Could've been research for Richard, seventeen different ways to bang."
"If you're wanting to put it to use," Gia said, "Beware that being grouchy won't land you that opportunity."
Gia walked behind Harry, he felt her hands rub into his shoulders for a moment.
"Suspended again?" Richard asked.
"Don't ask how," Ron replied, as the clock chimed for five.
"Not my fault," Harry said, "Still got the shaft."
"Parvati too," Ron said.
Harry glared at Ron.
"Got slammed," Ron said, rubbing his neck, "But also a holiday."
"That's nice," Jen said.
"Not letting them off that easy," Hermione quipped.
Jen smiled.
"That's what you see in him," Jen said, "Complete opposite, someone who makes you to take the occasional break—"
"Don't force it," Gia said, "Mystery why they stick together, other than they do."
"You've said otherwise," Harry said.
"We all speculate," Gia said as she bent down, kissed Harry.
A door slammed.
"I TOLD YOU ALREADY!" came Andy's shout, "FIVE MINUTES, HE WAS ABOUT TO PAY!"
"CARRY THEM IN!" Kristen's shout came.
Andy, in a disheveled red dress, came in carrying a stack of pizza boxes. She dropped them onto the table. Kristen, still in her police uniform, carried a couple two litre soda bottles in a bag in one hand, pad of paper in the other. Andy, loitered, her eyes drifted, an inquiry that caught Harry's eyes.
"Thoughtful," Richard said, opening one to reveal a large pepperoni pizza, "Thanks Mum."
"Take some slices, upstairs," Kristen said, "With Jen."
Harry stood.
"You can stay," Kristen said to Harry.
Harry glanced at those eyes, the ones that sought more information. Harry caught Ron's glances, implying beer.
"A FAMILY dinner!" Harry announced, "Andy, have a seat."
Harry caught the frustration behind Kristen's eyes, one she couldn't refuse as she focused on Harry's Gryffindor tie, still around his neck.
"Do I have to?" Richard asked, his eyes darting to Andy sitting at the table.
"Big table," Harry said.
"Where's Dad?" Andy asked, grabbing a slice.
"Working," Kristen said.
Harry caught Ron's eyes, again.
"What's the big deal?" Ron inquired.
"She wants to grill me," Harry replied, "I want to know why."
"Beer will have to wait?" Ron inquired.
"Yeah," Harry thought.
Jen brought some plates in from the kitchen.
"Ta," Kristen said.
Ron reached for a plate, and lifted two slices onto his plate. Gia sat to Harry's left.
"Ta," Ron said to her, the light outback hat on his head, "Work's frustrating?"
Jen sat next to Andy, while Richard sat with Gia and Hermione.
"That's an understatement," Kristen said.
Harry caught it, there was more.
"I could retire," Kristen said, "All I'd have to do is name Harry as the prime suspect in that poor boy's death."
"Justin Finch–Fletchley," Harry said.
"At least, if I believed that the notes stapled to the letters were really a down payment," Kristen said, "What's so special about you?"
"Nothing," Harry lied.
Harry caught a bit of the persuasion, Ron's meddling, into soft peddling her to back down. Harry turned his head and eyes to Ron's blue eyes.
"What?" Ron thought.
"You're—" Harry started.
"Wanna explain magic to her?" Ron retorted.
"She's not a puppet!" Harry quipped.
"You foiled her plans," Ron thought.
"By announcing dinner," Harry thought.
"Funny," Ron said, "Your plate's empty."
"Don't," Harry said to Ron.
Harry caught Hermione's brown eyes, glancing over at them.
"Should eat something," Kristen said to Harry.
A sniff of the pizza, Harry did desire it, but didn't have the motivation to actually grab a slice. Harry shrugged.
"It was hinted by some of the letters that the boy testified against you at a trial," Kristen said.
"So?" Harry asked.
"Goes to motive," Kristen said.
"I'd never stoop to that," Harry said as he stood.
"Harry," Ron said, pushed.
Richard followed as Ron brought Harry out into the living room, and they left the house.
"You can't shake my Mum like that," Richard said to Harry, "She's a bloodhound on your scent."
"She keeps prying into my affairs and she'll get herself killed—like she did the retreat," Harry seethed.
"I wasn't—" Richard started.
"Death Eaters—that's what they're fucking called!" Harry said, "You're muggles, you don't stand a chance!"
"Harry," Ron said, "Beers—now."
Richard watched as Harry was led away by Ron.
…
"I was onto something?" Kristen asked Hermione.
"Our impostors got it down," Hermione said, "Resemblance is uncanny."
"Think latex masks, only better," Gia said, "You or me can't tell the difference based on appearance—only behavior."
"Which isn't good," Hermione said, "Remember that holiday we took? Our impostors staged us for murder, near our school. There was a trial, but because our Headmaster thought to have our holiday well documented, we had a strong alibis, two places at the same time."
"Of course," Kristen said.
"Others—dismissed it as a technicality," Hermione said, "So, legally and technically, we're innocent, but that's not mattering to them. I gather the impostor abducted Justin over our holiday, guess they realized the best place to dump the body was here, to corroborate our guilt."
"I'd like documentation for this trial, anything else you can think of," Kristen said.
"It's…outside your jurisdiction," Hermione said, "Don't think I'm even allowed to discuss this with you."
"You're being…" Kristen said, "It doesn't help your case if you're afraid to talk."
"Secrets act," Hermione said, knew it was a slight stretch.
"Find you a good solicitor to help sort it out?" Kristen said.
"Wish it was that easy," Hermione said.
"Impostors—" Gia said, seemingly changing the topic, "Did something today?"
"Insurance assessor did stop by," Hermione said, trying to further change the topic.
"Ta," Kristen said, "Did those impostors do something today?"
"Got us suspended, again," Hermione said, "They're good."
"Suspensions reflect badly to an investigator," Kristen said.
"You don't understand how dire the situation's become," Hermione said, "Ron's welts last week was from being strangled by Harry's impostor. Even the Headmaster agreed that it was unfair to suspend us, but he's being compelled by the Board of Governors regardless of innocence or guilt. Even if we're stabbed, murdered, we'd be suspended."
"Sounds unfair and a violation of your rights," Kristen said.
"It is, and I wish you could help," Hermione said, "But it's way outside your jurisdiction, I can't tell you more."
"Harry said the same last week," Kristen said, "Anything related to your files coming up red–acted?"
"Maybe," Hermione said.
"A Mr. Dumble…" Kristen said.
"Albus Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"Listed as your Headmaster," Kristen said, "Anyway I can get a hold of him?"
"Write him a letter," Hermione said, "Tie it to Hedwig's leg and she'll—"
"That's nonsense!" Andy said.
"Post is post," Jen said, "Likely better service."
Hermione snorted.
"I…" Gia said, "With Harry's issues…I've totally blown off jerks at school, because those pale in comparison."
"Where did Harry and Ron make off to?" Hermione asked.
…
Harry followed Ron into the pub, they took seat across from each other at a small table.
"Been a day," Ron said, "And yes, everybody believed it was you banging Parvati."
"Nothing left to doubt?" Harry asked.
"Nope," Ron said.
"Damn," Harry grumbled.
"First round," Ron said as he stood.
Harry watched the small electric locomotive circle the dining room on the track near the ceiling. Ron returned with two beers.
"Gotta last," Ron said, "We're not getting drunk."
"Of course not," Harry said, sipping on one.
"Some chicken wings are coming," Ron said.
"Pizza not enough?" Harry asked.
"Bit greasy," Ron replied.
"Greasy git?" Harry asked.
"Don't joke," Ron said.
Harry sipped on his pint, starred at those blue eyes on the freckled face beneath that red hair. Always seemingly combed yet rarely met a comb, the hair knew what the wizard beneath wanted. Ron's eyes yielded, gave a repeat to the scene on the marble stairs.
"Try to think of something else," Harry said.
"Agreed," Ron said, "So, what did Wood want?"
"Nothing in particular," Harry said, "McGonagall's door locked—blimey! They were watching, the impostor, had to of been. They locked me and Wood into her office, kept me at bay while he…"
Harry chugged his beer down.
"Getting water after that," Ron said.
Harry left half a gulp left, as Ron stood and went for the counter. Ron came back, set the chicken wings down onto the table.
"Staring?" Ron asked.
Ron sat. Ron worked into the sauced chicken wings, tips of his fingers turned red.
"It's so fucking…organized," Harry said, "I get locked in that office, released after the deed's done. Aurors—remember we've got a Death Eater in the Ministry, that person could be pressuring the Aurors to turn the other cheek to actually help SOLVE the mystery."
"More than being a pain in their arses?" Ron asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, "Cause it almost seemed like they weren't interested in actually solving the problem."
"You're saying the Aurors are in on it?" Ron said, "Even that's a stretch."
"I know," Harry said.
"Eat," Ron said.
"Not hungry," Harry said.
"Don't give me that," Ron said.
Harry shook his head, his mind refused the notion. Harry finished his beer, grabbed Ron's.
"Hey!" Ron said, pulling it back from Harry, "No getting drunk!"
"Look!" Harry said, "Pink headed Nargle!"
"Where?" Ron spun around.
Harry grabbed the glass, took a gulp, and set it back down.
"You're messing with me," Ron said.
Harry grinned.
Burp!
"I'm full," Harry said.
Ron rolled his eyes, finished the chicken wings. A plate full of chicken bones, and Ron wiped his fingers. Ron finished his beer. Harry stood.
"You're cheerful," Ron said.
Ron got up, and they left the pub. A black motorcar passed along the road.
"I'm getting screwed over," Harry said.
"True," Ron said.
Harry began to walk. Ron followed. Waxing crescent of the moon cast shadows along the footpaths as they walked.
"I am screwed," Harry grumbled, "You—could've done more to catch him."
"I tried!" Ron said.
"Hermione?" Harry asked.
"As in shock as everybody," Ron said, "Malfoy seemed quite pleased at the sight of you boning Parvati."
"He would be," Harry said, "But you should've been capturing—not spectating."
"What? Take out the Aurors?" Ron said, "Let's forget the rape, and murder the Aurors. Surely the Minister will let us off the hook for that?"
They returned to 26 Oak Street, heard a bit of splashing from above. Harry entered the house first, went up the stairs. Harry tried and opened Richard's door, went through it. Ron closed the door, and they both went out onto the back deck, to where Gia and Hermione were already in the hot tub.
"About time," Hermione said.
Harry sat on the edge soaking his trouser legs. Ron got in fully dressed, though he tossed the wet trousers out over the edge a moment later.
"She already explained today to me," Gia said.
Harry stared at her bosom.
"Impostor was watching us," Harry said.
"Why'd you pester Wood into taking you away from us?" Ron asked, the eyes on Harry's eyes.
"What'd you mean?" Hermione asked.
"Have you seen how the others respond around us?" Harry said, returning her glare, "I didn't want to go to the Great Hall, not as Ginny's date."
"She didn't—" Ron said.
"Don't give me that," Harry said, "She's had a crush on me ever since she sent that singing Valentine!" His hand flew and his wand pointed at Ron.
"Calm down," Ron said, "She's my sister."
"I know," Harry said, wand still aimed, "Impostor was already watching us, yet you went to the Great Hall."
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
Hermione's eyes, a bit of innocence still behind them. Harry's wand vanished, banished back into its holster.
"Why'd he lock me and Wood in McGonagall's office?" Harry said, hand moved to his chest, straddling his scarlet and gold Gryffindor tie, "Wood didn't even remember why he asked me, like he was possessed!"
"Harry!" Ron quipped.
"Please, be civil," Gia pleaded.
"My impostor wasn't," Harry said, hand pointed, wand having returned to his grip, "Oh, he unlocked the door after his deed was done, so I'd walk out at the right time to get bombarded."
Harry moved forward, slid into the water, soaking his school uniform.
Splash!
Knees up out of the water, he leaned over, cried, as he figured there wasn't anything he could do to change the situation.
"Did you rape her?" Gia asked.
"What'd you think?" Harry snapped.
"Harry!" Hermione snapped.
"Cleverest witch of the school?" Harry seethed, "And you couldn't think of anything to do? At least Ron tried to stun!"
Harry stood, water drained from his sleeves and his bangs. He got out of the tub, stormed through Richard's bedroom, into Gia's. His wet school clothes to the floor, Harry climbed onto the bed.
Hoot!
"Sorry, rotten mood," Harry grumbled.
Gia came in a moment later, sat on the bed.
"Good," Harry said, "I need—" He moved to straddle her, held her shoulders.
"Stop," Gia said.
Harry tried to push her down.
"STOP!" Gia barked, "I mean it."
Harry released his hands as Ron came into the bedroom.
"Off MY bed," Gia instructed, "Need we get Kristen?"
Harry stepped back.
"You're taking your grievances out on your friends," Gia stated.
"I'm sorry," Harry said.
"Too late," Gia said, "You can have the floor, but you're not using my bed tonight."
"I…" Harry started, her blue eyes had danger marks behind them.
Gia handed over a spare pillow and a blanket to Harry.
"Rough night," Ron said.
Harry glared, left the bedroom. Harry went down the steps, into the darken living room, a small fire going in the fireplace. He curled up on one of the sofas, pulled the blanket over him. Ticking of the clock, a distant chime announcing the late hour. Footsteps upstairs, as Harry's mind tried racing over the day. Ten minutes later, stairs creaked as the heavier Ron came down.
"Sorry," Ron said.
"Rough day," Harry grumbled, realized it was the understatement of the century.
"We're all stressed out," Ron said, "Hermione's guilted out already, didn't need more."
"Sorry," Harry grumbled.
"Gia's keeping us together, realize that?" Ron asked.
"Oh," Harry said.
"It's why she kicked me out for a moment too," Ron said, "So they can be girls about it."
Harry snorted.
"And we needed to get it all off our chests," Ron said.
Harry glanced upward, the nipples, the freckled face. Ron extended his hand and Harry shook it.
"I'm sorry," Harry said.
"Me too," Ron said.
Harry relaxed, laid there. Ron sat on the coffee table.
"Suppose Dumbledore's trying to keep me out of Azkaban," Harry grumbled.
"I'd wager yes," Ron said.
"At least I'll see your old man," Harry said.
"That's not very funny," Ron replied.
"It's not," Harry said, "Guess I'll be running tomorrow, hiding."
"Dumbledore has his tricks," Ron said.
Candles flickered above, in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts.
"Look here," the Minister said, "You clearly love the boy, but that won't be enough. The act he committed is horrendous and I thought you would understand. Mr. Patil is pressing charges and the procedure is clear. You must deliver him, now, so I can remand him to Azkaban to await trial, whose conclusion will be obvious given the number of eyewitnesses. I'm afraid he'll likely be given the Demeantor's Kiss for this, his body hung, drawn, and quartered, fed to dragons—a fate too good for this career criminal."
"That would condemn us all," Dumbledore said, mulling the prophecy.
"There is one other way," the Minister said, "If you're that determined to keep him out of Azkaban, it'd settle the matter, if Mr. Patil agrees to it."
"That would be?" the Headmaster asked.
"Need your oath to help carry it through, tomorrow," the Minister said, "Otherwise, the board of governors will convene, and Potter will be expelled, taken to Azkaban."