Chapter 130: The Git And The Godfather

We spent the whole of Sunday in the common room, buried in our books, while all around us, people were coming and going. It was another clear, fine day and most of our fellow Gryffindors spent the day out in the grounds, enjoying what might well be some of the last sunshine that year. By the evening, my brain was hurting.

"You know, we probably should try and get more homework done during the week," Harry muttered to me, as we finally laid aside Professor McGonagall's long essay on the Inanimatus Conjurus Spell and turned miserably to Professor Sinistra's equally long and difficult essay about Jupiter's many moons.

"Yeah," I said as I threw my fifth spoiled bit of parchment into the fire beside us. "Listen, shall we just ask Hermione if we can have a look at what she's done?"

I looked over at her as she was sitting with Crookshanks on her lap and talking to Ginny about girly shit as a pair of knitting needles moved in midair in front of her, now knitting a pair of shapeless elf socks.

"No," sighed Harry, "you know she won't let us."

"Bet you I could coax her to."

"Oh yeah, because she loves you soooooo much." said Harry sarcastically.

"Of course she does. I'm her favorite out the both of us, didn't you know?"

"If the way she treats you is how she treats her favorites, I'm glad to not be one." laughed Harry. "C'mon, we can finish this. We don't need her."

And so we worked on while the sky outside the windows became steadily darker. Slowly, the crowd in the common room began to thin again. At half past eleven, Hermione wandered over to us, yawning.

"Nearly done?"

"No," I snorted.

"Jupiter's biggest moon is Ganymede, not Callisto," she said, pointing over my shoulder at a line in my Astronomy essay, "and it's Io that's got the volcanoes."

"Thanks, I should have known." I said, annoyed at both her and myself.

"Sorry, I only-"

"Yeah, well, if you've just come over here to criticise-"

"Ron-"

"I haven't got time to listen to a sermon, all right, Hermione, I'm up to my neck in it here-"

"No, look!"

Hermione was pointing to the nearest window. Harry and I both looked over. A screech owl was standing on the windowsill, gazing into the room at me.

"Isn't that Hermes?" said Hermione.

"Blimey, it is!" I said quietly, throwing down my quill and getting to my feet. "What's Percy writing to me for?"

I walked over to the window and opened it. Hermes flew inside, landed on my essay and held out a leg to which a letter was attached. I took the letter off it and the owl departed at once, leaving inky footprints across my drawing of the moon Io.

"That's definitely Percy's handwriting. What d'you reckon?"

"Open it!" said Hermione eagerly, and Harry nodded.

I unrolled the scroll and began to read.

Dear Ron,

I have only just heard (from no less a person than the Minister for Magic himself, who has it from your new teacher, Professor Umbridge) that you have become a Hogwarts prefect.

I was most pleasantly surprised when I heard this news and must firstly offer my congratulations. I must admit that I have always been afraid that you would take what we might call the 'Fred and George' route, rather than following in my footsteps, so you can imagine my feelings on hearing you have stopped flouting authority and have decided to shoulder some real responsibility.

But I want to give you more than congratulations, Ron, I want to give you some advice, which is why I am sending this at night rather than by the usual morning post. Hopefully, you will be able to read this away from prying eyes and avoid awkward questions.

From something the Minister let slip when telling me you are now a prefect, I gather that you are still seeing a lot of Harry Potter. I must tell you, Ron, that nothing could put you in danger of losing your badge more than continued fraternisation with that boy. Yes, I am sure you are surprised to hear this- no doubt you will say that Potter has always been Dumbledore's favourite-but I feel bound to tell you that Dumbledore may not be in charge at Hogwarts much longer and the people who count have a very different-and probably more accurate-view of Potter's behaviour. I shall say no more here, but if you look at the Daily Prophet tomorrow you will get a good idea of the way the wind is blowing-and see if you can spot yours truly!

Seriously, Ron, you do not want to be tarred with the same brush as Potter, it could be very damaging to your future prospects, and I am talking here about life after school, too. As you must be aware, given that our father escorted him to court, Potter had a disciplinary hearing this summer in front of the whole Wizengamot and he did not come out of it looking too good. He got off on a mere technicality, if you ask me, and many of the people I've spoken to remain convinced of his guilt.

It may be that you are afraid to sever ties with Potter. I know that he can be unbalanced and, for all I know, violent, but if you have any worries about this, or have spotted anything else in Potter's behaviour that is troubling you, I urge you to speak to Dolores Umbridge, a truly delightful woman who I know will be only too happy to advise you.

This leads me to my other bit of advice. As I have hinted above, Dumbledore's regime at Hogwarts may soon be over. Your loyalty, Ron, should be not to him, but to the school and the Ministry. I am very sorry to hear that, so far, Professor Umbridge is encountering very little cooperation from staff as she strives to make those necessary changes within Hogwarts that the Ministry so ardently desires (although she should find this easier from next week, again, see the Daily Prophet tomorrow!). I shall say only this: a student who shows himself willing to help Professor Umbridge now may be very well-placed for Head Boyship in a couple of years!

I am sorry that I was unable to see more of you over the summer. It pains me to criticize our parents, but I am afraid I can no longer live under their roof while they remain mixed up with the dangerous crowd around Dumbledore. (If you are writing to Mother at any point, you might tell her that a certain Sturgis Podmore, who is a great friend of Dumbledore's, has recently been sent to Azkaban for trespass at the Ministry. Perhaps that will open their eyes to the kind of petty criminals with whom they are currently rubbing shoulders.) I count myself very lucky to have escaped the stigma of association with such people, the Minister really could not be more gracious to me, and I do hope, Ron, that you will not allow family ties to blind you to the misguided nature of our parents' beliefs and actions, either. I sincerely hope that, in time, they will realise how mistaken they were and I shall, of course, be ready to accept a full apology when that day comes.

Please think over what I have said most carefully, particularly the bit about Harry Potter, and congratulations again on becoming prefect.

Your brother,

Percy

I was completely disgusted. I passed the letter to Harry, which he and Hermione read together. When they were done, Harry looked up at me.

"Well,"he said, trying to sound as though he found the whole thing a joke, "if you want to-er -what is it?" he checked Percy's letter, "Oh yeah-'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."

"Give it back," I said, holding out my hand. "He is-"I said as I began tearing Percy's letter in half 'the world's-" I tore it into quarters "biggest-"I tore it into eighths "motherfucking git."

I threw the pieces into the fire.

"Come on, we've got to get this finished sometime before dawn," I said to Harry, pulling Professor Sinistra's essay back towards me. Fucking wanker. He had a lot of bloody nerve writing me that bullshit.

Hermione was looking at me with an odd expression on her face.

"Oh, give them here," she said abruptly.

"What?" I said, looking back at her.

"Give them to me, I'll look through them and correct them," she said.

"Are you serious? Ah, Hermione, you're a life-saver! What can I-?"

"What you can say is, 'We promise we'll never leave our homework this late again," " she said, holding out both hands for our essays, but she looked slightly amused all the same.

"Thanks a million, Hermione," said Harry, passing over his essay and sinking back into his armchair, rubbing his eyes.

"I've told you that you're brilliant, right?"

"Oh shut it."

It was now past midnight and the common room was deserted but for the three of us and Crookshanks. The only sound was that of Hermione's quill scratching out sentences here and there on out essays and the ruffle of pages as she checked various facts in the reference books strewn across the table.

"OK, write that down," Hermione said to me, pushing my essay and a sheet covered in her own writing back to me, "then add this conclusion I've written for you."

"Hermione, you are honestly the most wonderful person I've ever met," I said sincerely, "and if I'm ever rude to you again-"

"-I'll know you're back to normal," said Hermione, blushing. "Harry, yours is OK except for this bit at the end, I think you must have misheard Professor Sinistra, Europa's covered in ice, not mice-Harry?"

Harry had slid off his chair on to his knees and was now crouching on the singed and threadbare hearthrug, gazing into the flames.

"Er-Harry? Why are you down there, mate?"

"Because I've just seen Sirius's head in the fire," said Harry.

"Sirius's head?" Hermione repeated. "You mean like when he wanted to talk to you during the Triwizard Tournament? But he wouldn't do that now, it would be too-Sirius!"

She gasped, gazing at the fire; I dropped my quill. There in the middle of the dancing flames sat Sirius's head, long dark hair falling around his grinning face.

"I was starting to think you'd go to bed before everyone else had disappeared," he said. "I've been checking every hour."

"You've been popping into the fire every hour?" Harry said, half-laughing.

"Just for a few seconds to check if the coast was clear."

"But what if you'd been seen?" said Hermione anxiously.

"Well, I think a girl, first-year, by the look of her, might've get a glimpse of me earlier, but don't worry," Sirius said hastily, as Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth, "I was gone the moment she looked back at me and I'll bet she just thought I was an oddly-shaped log or something."

"But, Sirius, this is taking an awful risk-" Hermione began.

"You sound like Molly," said Sirius.

I couldn't help but laugh. She really did.

"This was the only way I could come up with of answering Harry's letter without resorting to a code, and codes are breakable."

At the mention of Harry's letter, Hermione and I both turned to stare at him.

"You didn't say you'd written to Sirius!" said Hermione accusingly.

"I forgot," said Harry. "Don't look at me like that, Hermione, there was no way anyone would have got secret information out of it, was there, Sirius?"

"No, it was very good," said Sirius, smiling. "Anyway, we'd better be quick, just in case we're disturbed-your scar."

"What about-?" I began, but Hermione interrupted me.

"We'll tell you afterwards. Go on, Sirius."

"Well, I know it can't be fun when it hurts, but we don't think it's anything to really worry about. It kept aching all last year, didn't it?"

"Yeah, and Dumbledore said it happened whenever Voldemort was feeling a powerful emotion," said Harry, ignoring Hermione and I wincing. "So maybe he was just, I dunno, really angry or something the night I had that detention."

"Well, now he's back it's bound to hurt more often," said Sirius.

"So you don't think it had anything to do with Umbridge touching me when I was in detention with her?" Harry asked.

"I doubt it," said Sirius. "I know her by reputation and I'm sure she's no Death Eater-"

"She's foul enough to be one, the old bitch," said Harry darkly.

"Yes, but the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters," said Sirius with a wry smile. "I know she's a nasty piece of work, though, you should hear Remus talk about her."

"Does Lupin know her?" asked Harry quickly.

"No," said Sirius, "but she drafted a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job."

My hatred for the fucking bitch grew tenfold. Lupin was a great man, how fucking dare she make a law that hindered him from working!

"What's she got against werewolves?" said Hermione angrily.

"Scared of them, I expect," said Sirius. "Apparently, she loathes part-humans; she campaigned to have merpeople rounded up and tagged last year, too. Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose."

I laughed but Hermione looked upset.

"Sirius!" she said reproachfully. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he's got left, and Professor Dumbledore said-"

"So, what are Umbridge's lessons like?" Sirius interrupted. "Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?"

'No,' said Harry, as he and I ignored Hermione's affronted look at being cut off in her defence of Kreacher. "She's not letting us use magic at all!"

"All we do is read the stupid textbook," I said, crossing my arms.

"Ah, well, that figures," said Sirius. "Our information from inside the Ministry is that Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Trained in combat!" repeated Harry, confused. "What does he think we're doing here, forming some sort of wizard army?"

"That's exactly what he thinks you're doing," said Sirius, "or, rather, that's exactly what he's afraid Dumbledore's doing-forming his own private army, with which he will be able to take on the Ministry of Magic."

"That's the most stupid thing I've ever heard, including all the stuff that Luna Lovegood comes out with." I said.

"So we're being prevented from learning Defence Against the Dark Arts because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" said Hermione, looking furious.

"Yep," said Sirius. "Fudge thinks Dumbledore will stop at nothing to seize power. He's getting more paranoid about Dumbledore by the day. It's a matter of time before he has Dumbledore arrested on some trumped-up charge."

This reminded me of my brother's dumbass letter.

"D'you know if there's going to be anything about Dumbledore in the Daily Prophet tomorrow?" asked Harry. "Ron's brother Percy reckons there will be-"

"I don't know," said Sirius, "I haven't seen anyone from the Order all weekend, they're all busy. It's just been Kreacher and me here."

"So you haven't had any news about Hagrid, either?"

"Ah ..." said Sirius, "well, he was supposed to be back by now, no one's sure what's happened to him. But Dumbledore's not worried, so don't you three get yourselves in a state; I'm sure Hagrid's fine."

"But if he was supposed to be back by now.." said Hermione in a small, anxious voice.

"Madame Maxime was with him, we've been in touch with her and she says they got separated on the journey home. But there's nothing to suggest he's hurt or-well, nothing to suggest he's not perfectly OK."

The three of us exchanged weary looks.

"Listen, don't go asking too many questions about Hagrid," said Sirius hastily, "it'll just draw even more attention to the fact that he's not back and I know Dumbledore doesn't want that. Hagrid's tough, he'll be OK. When's your next Hogsmeade weekend, anyway? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could-"

"NO!'"said Harry and Hermione together, very loudly.

"Sirius, didn't you see the Daily Prophet?" said Hermione anxiously.

"Oh, that," said Sirius, grinning, "they're always guessing where I am, they haven't really got a clue-"

"Yeah, but we think this time they have," said Harry. "Something Malfoy said on the train made us think he knew it was you, and his father was on the platform, Sirius- you know, Lucius Malfoy-so don't come up here, whatever you do. If Malfoy recognises you again-"

"All right, all right, I've got the point," said Sirius, looking disappointed. "Just an idea, thought you might like to get together."

"I would, I just don't want you chucked back in Azkaban!" said Harry.

There was a pause in which Sirius looked out of the fire at Harry, as if he was studying him.

"You're less like your father than I thought," he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. "The risk would've been what made it fun for James."

"Look-"

"Well, I'd better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs," said Sirius, obviously lying. "I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?"

There was a tiny pop, and the place where Sirius's head had been was flickering flame once more.