In which Godric shows one type of courage and birthdays are planned. While some see it as a political stage, most are eager for the fun part of the party, but are the birthday boys? And, of course, some guests are due an explanation before the party can even begin.
Enjoy,
A_A
Contrary to every other meeting, Godric was extremely quiet during this one. He just sat there and listened when others exchanged cheerful greetings, talked about recent events, and naturally started to share their plans. The main event planned was one on the evening of the thirtieth of July. Neville and Harry were born just hours apart, Neville on the late evening of the thirtieth, Harry on the early morning of the thirty-first. Both seemed to be equally happy and ashamed of the attention that was brought to their heads, but Godric was so deeply ashamed of himself that he couldn't offer any support or share his enthusiasm. That was up to the point when Hermione said, "It's a shame that we can't invite more people." The problem was they could. They just didn't know that. Yet.
Godric cleared his throat to attract attention.
"There we go," Salazar smiled unpleasantly. Godric knew that Salazar knew that he had done something wrong. What's more, Salazar knew that Godric knew that Salazar knew. And that is something that Godric knew as well. Only the rest were unaware up to this moment. Helga and Rowena exchanged resigned glances, now recognising the signs of one of Godric's famous moments of truth. Augusta, Sirius, and the children just looked at him with curiosity.
"I have made a mistake recently," Godric said, just as he used to, with the same expression he used to make when he was just a young boy admitting to Salazar that he 'made a mistake'. Salazar sighed heavily, and Godric continued, "During our visit in Hogwarts, I went to retrieve my sword, and Dumbledore accompanied me to my chambers when I went to retrieve the sword scabbard and check on their state. We were talking quite friendly."
"What did you say, you insufferable blabber?" Helga asked with irritation.
"I have mentioned Neville, Augusta, and Harry here and there," Godric admitted, "And I haven't said anything specific, but I ranted about some irritating aspects of the current situation at Hogwarts..."
"We should have ripped your tongue after you told Helena where I keep my diadem," Rowena declared.
"Or after you slipped the tongue about Herpo's visit," added Helga.
"Better yet, in infancy," Salazar ended. "At least your tongue is always long enough to tell what you told."
Godric remained silent under the scolding stares of his friends, but Augusta looked at him with understanding.
"You might be a prattler, but that was only a facilitation for Albus. He's skilled in making people tell him everything he wants to know. We may be only grateful that this heart-to-heart hasn't lasted longer."
Godric nodded humbly, thankful for her words, but at the same time, the feelings of guilt and shame started to dissipate, giving way to his usual cheerfulness.
"That means, however," he started carefully, but his tone quickly grew lighter, "That our heirs are no longer a secret, so you can invite whomever you want for the celebrations."
"That is such a bright side to this situation," Salazar sneered, "Have you said anything about Hermione or Tom?"
"No, I haven't."
"Albus figured it out by now," Augusta said casually, "When you told anything about heirs, he had appropriate candidates ready in his mind. You just confirmed the identity of the two of them."
"And Voldy was quite loud about being the heir," noticed Harry, "So that is quite obvious. And Dumbledore knows that Hermione is with her aunt, so it's not a big puzzle as well. Knowing what he does, Hermione, Ron, and I could put it together in no time."
Hermione nodded as he spoke.
"Good, we can tell Ron. I hate lying to him."
"So the party grows bigger," Sirius said with glee, "There's nothing like a good party. We'll need..."
"This is not a good time to plan celebrations," Salazar cut him off in the middle of the sentence. "This situation demands action from our side before Dumbledore can cause our disadvantage. This is a time to make the public aware of our presence. I'd like to briefly express our concerns publicly. Godric's blabbering makes it possible to present the problem in full cooperation with our heirs, who still remain students. As such, they not only are the most aware of the situation at Hogwarts, but it also concerns them personally. What's more, we will have another widely known name, and this one happens to be closely associated with Dumbledore. That should prevent him from speaking loudly in opposition if he doesn't want to stand in opposition to Harry, and he doesn't. Not yet, at least. What would you suggest, Augusta?"
The eyes of the other people in the room switched from Salazar to Augusta. Not all had the same interest as the three other founders and Hermione. Sirius looked a little offended by the interruption, not knowing how attached Salazar was to the planned course of conversations. Harry was full of hope that nobody would ever write about him and that Augusta would declare that he, Harry, must not be mentioned at all. Neville looked equally uncomfortable with the perspective of his own appearance in the press, although for different reasons whatsoever: he was certain that all his classmates would die of laughter knowing that he was the heir of Gryffindor. And more, he expected to prove their point at least a few times in front of the reporters so that they would present him as someone not worthy of the heritage.
Augusta failed both of the boys.
"In all honesty, this is the issue for the popularity contest rather than a presentation of serious arguments. Therefore, I would suggest a meeting with three of the reporters I know and respect. Two works for the Daily Prophet and the Wizarding World News. Both bear equally little merit but are widely read. And," she grimaced with distaste, "the Witch Weekly. Dorothy is a very young reporter, and she doesn't have a name yet, so she's working for this rag full of gossip, but if you wish to use the celebrity angle, that's the appropriate magazine. They mention Harry as often as they can one way or the other."
"They do?" Harry asked with horror.
"Yes, child. Of course, they do. And sometimes, it's even vaguely reasonable. This should be one of these times. We shouldn't have more than three central communications using those three papers. Most of the readers will only handle a little. Of course, two are that the founders are back, and they have a living family. The third, I suppose, would be a matter of concern about the fate of current education. The downside is that we should stay in touch with all three of the papers to give him something once in a while. Otherwise, they will send such harpies as Rita Skeeter to find out all they can and publish any rubbish they find or make up."
But Salazar looked like the downside wasn't the downside at all. He quickly found the papers and the matter of open communication with the general public to be a very handy tool. He read every newspaper and magazine he was able to find and had more than one discussion with Tom about why exactly none of them should be ignored, even those publishing such trivial and absurd matters as Witch Weekly, Seeker Weekly or Quibbler. He admired Augusta's expertise on the matter.
"We can use that to our advantage," he declared. "I expect each of you to provide information only when instructed and within the specified limits. No matter whether it will be provided directly or indirectly to sniffing reporters. As of today, you are obliged to watch your tongue," he looked pointedly at Godric. For some reason, his eyes rested for a second on Neville before finally landing on Sirius. "You," he said sternly, "will be cleared of your crimes in the eyes of the public. You swore to keep our secrets for the privilege of participation. I expect you to act wisely and seek council in advance if you can't do it on your own."
"I can manage just fine," Sirius answered proudly. His expression suggested that he wanted to add something but withheld to prove a point. Salazar sighed. There was no doubt that this particular man was sorted properly, even if by a fake sorting hat. Especially since the Sorting Hat confirmed the initial sorting.
"Very well," Helga said in much lighter and cheerful tone, "Augusta will let us know when we can meet with those people, Sal what to say, and in the meantime we can plan a party. What do you say?"
"I'll drink to that!" Sirius replied eagerly, raising his cup of tea. He asked for Firewhiskey, but Salazar declared it was 'not the time'. However, Rowena saw how Sirius supplied his tea with something from the flask he kept in the back pocket of his jeans.
When the majority of the gathered people began to plan the birthday celebration, Salazar and Augusta moved away from the group. It was loud as Godric and Sirius kept talking one over the other, Hermione tried to explain this or that about the current customs surrounding birthdays every other sentence, and Helga insisted on asking Harry and Neville. Harry, however, was happy with everything if only Ron were invited, while Neville had problems with choking out anything, even having an opinion. Only Rowena kept silent, seemingly listening to everyone simultaneously, including Salazar and Augusta.
Considering that chaos, no one should be surprised to know that it was Rowena who put the celebration together.
Harry had trouble coping with... well, everything. He mostly kept the happy face in place, and he quickly learned how to do it much better than initially. For one, he didn't want to talk. Second, who would he talk with? He felt stupid even thinking about bothering others, and even if he'd decided to talk, what would he say? He didn't even know what to think about most of what happened and what he learned.
And Harry was happy. Really. He was glad to have Sirius around, and he got to know him more with each passing day. He felt weirdly warm inside when Helga said 'Harry dear' or hugged him for no apparent reason, even if he was more embarrassed than ready to admit that he enjoyed her attention. Hermione was overwhelming in a pleasantly familiar way and contagiously happy about everything she was learning. She bloomed in the company of Rowena. Harry even grew to like his little (educating) chats with Rowena when she cast different spells on his scar, performed different rituals putting him in their centre, and calculated something on the giant scrolls. Often, she had to call him back after Harry sneaked out when Rowena forgot about him for some time, engrossed in one of her books (old or new) to find an explanation to what she learned from all her magical prodding.
Harry was happy—really. It was just happiness clouded with murders and murderers. Voldemort killing Harry's parents. Dumbledore killing the rest of Harry's family. Harry killing Quirrel... and was killing a part of the soul really a murder? Harry felt it was.
Then there were all the other things. Will the Ministry clear Sirius and sentence Wormtail? What was Dumbledore's plot? Will Helga and Sirius disappear at some point? If so, can Dumbledore force Harry to go back to the Dursleys? And maybe Harry had some family, somewhere, that he didn't yet know? Like someone who could speak parseltongue just like him because they shared an ancestor? And who asked Voldemort not to kill Harry's mother? And what would his parents say to all of that?
He'd like to ask. And sometimes, he felt like the questions were on the tip of his tongue when he was alone with Helga, Sirius, and sometimes even Rowena. But he couldn't choke it out. For various reasons. Sometimes it was because the moment passed before he managed. Other times because he didn't know how. But mostly because he didn't want them to laugh and tell him not to ask questions. They wouldn't. At least, Harry thought they wouldn't. But there was always a possibility scary enough that if they asked about something even remotely related to any of those issues and then some more, Harry wouldn't say.
So Harry kept to himself and put on a happy face. Because Harry was happy. Really.
And his birthday was coming up. And he wouldn't celebrate it alone!
On the morning of the thirtieth of July, Harry woke up sleepy and yawny after a very long night but so excited and anxious that it didn't matter. It was also the morning when the Daily Prophet was to publish the article about the founders and their heirs. It was all part of the scheme cooked up by Slytherin.
First, they sent invitations to the planned party without mentioning any of the founders' businesses. Augusta was dissatisfied that everything was organised at the last minute and invitations were sent outrageously late.
Second, they all met with three reporters invited by Neville's grandmother to the Longbottom estate. Harry was there for the first time then, and he was equally surprised and awed that this was where Neville lived. It proved that you could be wealthy, aristocratic, and nice at the same time, making even a bigger ass of Malfoy. As ruled by Augusta, they shared breakfast and lunch, during which the reporters asked about the story. Salazar, Rowena, Helga, and Augusta answered the questions, while Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Godric were allowed to say very little, only when asked directly and under the scrutinising eye of Salazar Slytherin, who instructed them previously on what they should and shouldn't share.
Third, the evening before the publication, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were allowed to send the information to the chosen guests—exactly what was to be said in the article, and only so people like Weasleys wouldn't be informed by the press.
Finally, those people were invited earlier than everybody else so they could ask questions and be informed about some other details before the rest of the guests arrived. Harry and Hermione argued with Salazar to tell Ron everything. Unsuccessfully. But he gave them permission to tell about his own heir, who was not mentioned in the articles or anywhere else. Salazar was very explicit in forbidding any mention of Voldemort until he fixes his resurrection.
What Harry didn't realise was that an event such as the fourteenth birthday could be a political issue. Neville, on the other hand, was familiar with the concept. His birthdays usually consisted of children approximately his age who were somehow related to his grandmother's friends. On the same note, he was a guest during the birthdays of those children. Usually, they had nothing in common and never saw each other besides that. The only positive side of such an event was that most of his grandmother's friends brought attractive gifts which were even related to his interests. Mostly.
That's why Neville was far from excited thinking about this particular party. Yet he harboured hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different if only because Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be there. The hope went up when they considered organising the celebrations in Badgers Keep, but that didn't last long. As soon as grandmother entered, she only shook her head and called for the house elf to bring her tea. The Longbottom house elf. From home. It was one of the occasions when Neville wanted to dissipate into thin air and never, ever have to look again into the eyes of his friends.
He woke up on the morning of the thirtieth with a weight in his stomach, redying himself for the afternoon of humiliations. He wrote those invitations. He sent them. Yet he wanted to meet only a few of the guests.
However, the one and only thing Neville could do was to put on the robe his grandmother chose, join the people that will soon come to his home to celebrate his birthday, and hope to stick close enough to Harry, Ron, and Hermione hoping that their presence would make it pleasant.
At least, that is what he thought.
According to Augusta's wishes, the three founders, two of their heirs, and Sirius Black crossed her hearth one after the other just after breakfast. And exactly like she imagined, half of them were not dressed appropriately in the slightest. She couldn't find fault with the attaires of the founders. They were simply not up to the current fashion, but she deemed it more than suitable. Damn her, if similar dresses and robes do not become popular in Magical Britain in just a few weeks!
The rest, however... Miss Granger wore a muggle dress. It was smart and suited her complexion, but it was muggle, and the cleavage was definitely too big for a girl her age. Whatever Mr Potter wore underneath his transfigured Hogwarts robe was probably worn by an elephant a decade ago. And Sirius Black? How, in Merlin's name, this man could wear this and his surname at the same time was beyond Augusta's wildest imagination. No, if Violetta saw this, she would bid farewell to her long life!
That's why when decently dressed guests could join her for tea, she sent those three for an urgent meeting with her seamstress. That woman knew perfectly well what Augusta expected of her and was quick enough with her spell to make them ready for the evening. And during lunch, she hoped to correct some manners. It was enough to have a convict not only in the house but at a social function. He could at least look and behave as befits a man of his background.
Naturally, Sirius Black wouldn't go without throwing a fit she rather expected of Harry. Harry, however, looked somehow relieved, even if embarrassed. That was somewhat comforting. On the other hand, only Sirius Black had manners that were not erased by his time in Azkaban. He tried not to have them, she could tell, but clumsily. He was still sitting straight, minding his hands, using appropriate cutlery, and so on. The rest... Well, it was enough to say that Miss Granger was slouching, Mr Potter looked like he had never seen a well-set table, Helga knew nothing about napkins, and Salazar held his fork like it had teeth to bite him! As for Rowena, at least she observed and learned fast.
Of course, Godric already knew the rules valid at Augusta's table and never again tried to eat with his hands. How one could just grab a chicken leg and gnaw on it was beyond her.
Augusta did her best to instruct them appropriately. And she could tell that Salazar didn't appreciate being cultured. She wouldn't expect him to oppose improving himself, but well, one learns through life and acquires the skill to bear disappointment.
Just after lunch, the wards of the manor informed her that the central fireplace had accepted the first expected guest—exactly seven people, one after the other. She didn't move nor say anything to inform the others but finished a meal and invited everyone to the family room. And then, Jokby leads in the Weasleys: both parents and five of the youngest children. Muriel and she tried to introduce Molly to society, but the girl was lost as soon as she married Arthur Weasley. However, she had some promising children. Their oldest, William, the oldest present, Percy, and the youngest, Ginevra. Charles was lost to the wilderness. The twins were impossible to be tamed, although contrary to Muriel, Augusta appreciated their spirit. Lastly, Ronald... well... this child seemed to be unable to grow into his own shoes, much like Neville.
Even from the corridor, everybody could hear how Molly Weasley scolded her covey to do this and not do that. Just as if she'd hoped to teach them some manners in the hallway.
The family entered the room disorderly and stopped abruptly. Augusta noticed some eyes growing on the sight of the founders. Whatever she expected, Molly Weasley broke every expectation when she darted towards Harry and hugged him tightly, with a loud greeting on her mouth.
"So good to see you safe and sound, Harry dear," she said. He disappeared for a moment in her arms, then she moved him away, looking carefully, "You made us worry, you must know. Disappearing like that? No word and then a mysterious 'aunt'?"
"I..." Harry started, but whatever he wanted to say, Molly didn't let him finish.
"Don't you do it again. Not after a scare we all had, thinking that Sirius Black was after you. And Dumbledore was so certain it was some ploy... But no matter now, you're just fine."
"Undoubtedly," Augusta said sourly, "If you're quite finished, some invitations are in order."
"Yes, yes," said Arthur, approaching his wife and placing a hand on her arm.
Arthur Weasley knew exactly what to expect when he came here, and he was more than reluctant to do so. The only reason for that was his wife's insistence. It was since the nineteen thirties that his family stood separately from the pureblood society, and they went very different ways for much longer. Merlin knew that as a boy, he harboured an idea of marrying a muggle woman, and if not for deep feelings for Molly, he would have done so. He suffered plenty from pureblood families, equally as a child and an adult, whether it was in the schoolyard or in the office. His passions were worthless in their eyes, his ambitions too low, his job the constant joke. Not to mention the poor financial situation and the number of children.
Unplesantries, however, were never something that bothered him greatly. He had his pride. He was happy with his passions, ambitions, job, and children. Even if often the money was thin. What he couldn't stand was people causing his children and wife to feel inferior. Because of his choices or different ideas of how a man should carry his pride and behave among others. Who cared about the cutlery when the heart was in the right place? The pureblood society, and only the pureblood society. He knew the rules. He just never bound his children with them.
"If you'll let me, Augusta," he said, forcing a smile and turning to the unknown people in the room. Their fame, however, made it difficult not to recognise them and fit the names properly. "I'm Arthur Weasley, pleased to meet you. That's my dearest wife, Molly Weasley, and children from the oldest: Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny." He gestured towards the children as he named them. And even if Augusta expected differently, it was when the founders stood up to introduce themselves and shake hands.
"You have such a nice family!" Helga said warmly, squeezing Molly's hand, "It's nice to hear you care for Harry, but I assure you, he's in good hands. Even if we're a more distant family than an actual aunt and nephew, I assure you he's very dear to me. So there's no need to worry yourself."
"Oh, I will always worry, dear. He's like one of my own. A part of our family." Molly replied sincerely, patting Helga's palm.
"How nice of you to say so. It's good to have close friends like that."
"Yes, yes," Arthur said, coming closer after breaking his own conversation. "And we're delighted to know Harry has at least one loving family member... How about we sit down, Molly? Augusta says there are some answers we could get now."
"Just a moment. I need to talk with Hermione first," Molly declared with care but also a threat in her voice. She really wasn't happy with Harry and Hermione, who were not only keeping a secret but also lying. Fortunately, she found both of them, Neville and Ron, heading for the corner. No doubt, to put their noses where they don't belong and share even more secrets they shouldn't own just to get themselves into more trouble.
But neither they made it to the corner, nor Molly got to say her peace. Augusta ushered everybody to take their places. And Molly finally heard the whole story from the top. The founders returned to life just a couple of weeks prior and looked for their family, which Molly saw as the most reasonable thing to do. She also saw it as fortunate that Helga took Harry from his uncles. She never minded muggles, but this sort of people... It was a recurring discussion between Molly and Arthur, as they both wanted to take Harry in. Unfortunately, it seemed impossible besides inviting him for a couple of weeks during Summer vacations. Albus would never allow it. He always argued that Harry should be with his family for his own safety. He wasn't happy about the appearance of this aunt as well, although Molly supposed that with the news that said 'aunt' is Helga Hufflepuff herself, he could change his mind. Even if Molly had her doubts about her.
"Heirs to the founders?" Ron asked loudly when they broke free from the adults, "And you haven't told me?"
"We did as soon as we could," Hermione assured, "It's just more complicated than you think... No one will hear us here, Neville?"
"Nobody comes here besides me," Neville assured.
They were in the gardens, in the corner of one of Neville's greenhouses, among a plentitude of different species of roses. Some were beautiful, like those in midnight blue, now with all petals closed shut, those with mixed colours of creme and purple, or the delicate and petite ones, whole pale white along with leaves and stems. Some were scary, blood red and dripping with sap so alike blood it was hard to say if it wasn't. In one corner, there were gentle flowers covered in white frost, while in the second, the bush was burning softly. Not to mention the two species, of which one had an eyeball in the centre of each flower, and each eyeball was staring at them with what seemed like terror, and the second had each petal shaped as a realistic mask, a human face, and each differed in expressions. Some of the bushes moved.
"What is it?" Ron asked. He sounded a little resentful.
"We had a fight with Salazar, so he allows us to tell you. Keep it a secret, okay?" Harry asked, "But you must have noticed that there's one heir missing, right? Slytherin's heir?"
Ron furrowed in consternation, but the answer came quickly, just not from the source they'd expected.
"Tom Riddle?" Ginny exclaimed, emerging from among the roses, "You Know Who?! Don't tell me he's alive!"
"Ginny! You shouldn't be here!"
"We gathered that, brother dear," said Fred lightly, appearing behind Ginny along with George, who added,
"So we hurried behind you when we noticed the mischievous expressions and the quick escape!"
"That's not a joke!" Ginny scolded angrily. "Is he here?!"
"No, he's not," Hermione replied sternly, stepping on Harry's foot when he opened his mouth. "And we haven't said he's back. We just said..."
"He is back," Harry said despite her. "C'mon, Hermione, they're not stupid."
Neville moved forward, standing next to Harry.
"I'm with Harry on that," he said, "They will know sooner or later, so there's no need to lie. And it's better for Ginny to prepare."
"We promised secrecy!" argued Hermione fervently, "You know it's important!"
"And we haven't told them, they overheard," countered Harry. "It's not our fault."
"Fine. You will explain that to Salazar, I wash my hands."
"They could swear not to tell," Harry said, "You know, with a magical oath."
"No, they won't! That could kill them!"
"Only if they tell, but they won't. I only suggested so you don't have to fear they'll blab."
"And it was stupid. Don't ever make suggestions like that."
"Will you stop already?!" Neville asked louder over them. And even if he shrank slightly, surprised with himself, the silence fell among all of them, and all of them looked at Neville with astonishment. It was Ginny who spoke first.
"We won't blab," Ginny promised, and the twins nodded in confirmation of her words. "Just tell us the truth about You Know Who."
So they did. Despite Hermione's reluctance, with strong support from Neville, Harry told them about Voldemort, his return, and his role in the resurrection of the founders. What got the most attention, however, was his current looks. Fred and George were dying of laughter, competing in jokes.
"He must have ran in the wrong wall at Kings Cross!"
"Poor thing can't wear glasses..."
"You know why he can't rule the world?"
"He just doesn't have a nose for it!"
"His uncle got his nose and never gave it back!"
"You know what his greatest virtue is?"
"Enlighten me!"
"He doesn't pick his nose!"
"Sorry to tell you, but when you'll see him he'll have it back," Hermione said, "Salazar won't let him show his face otherwise."
"But why haven't you told Dumbledore?" asked Ron. "He's You Know Who, Dumbledore must know that he's up and about. The Ministry must know. And what about Harry? He wanted to kill him the last time I checked?"
Three heirs exchanged looks. It was oddly close to what they weren't allowed to talk about. It was Harry who finally said slowly, as if he had to force the words out, "It's fine on that front. No worries."
"You can walk around cuz he can't sniff you?" chuckled George.
"You told us nothing, haven't you?" Ginny asked, but her tone was the one of the statement. And she shooed the amusement from the air, pushing Neville, Harry, and Hermione into another consternated silence.
"We've told you everything we could," Neville said. "The rest is not ours to share. If we told you, Salazar would be furious. And worse, my grandmother..."
"It's not bad," Hermione assured, "It's just better that people don't know yet."
"It includes You Know Who?" Ron asked, and when Hermione nodded, he added with conviction, "Then it's bad, whatever you say. You don't know, you can't know how it was during the first war, but Mum told us. We've lost family! My uncles!"
"I've lost family too," Harry replied angrily, "So if I can get over it, and I say it's fine, just trust us, would you?"
"Why would I? You lied to me, you haven't told me anything, you don't trust me, so why should I?"
"Ron, please..." Hermione stepped closer to him, "We've had no other choice, and we can't tell you now. I'm sorry... We're sorry," she shot a pointed look at Harry.
"We're sorry," Harry said, and he meant it. "Look, we had a long fight with Salazar to tell you everything. And he can be pretty nasty. He agreed that we tell you about Voldemort, he'll be pissed when he'll know we've told Ginny, Fred, and George as well. But we'll tell you everything as soon as we can."
For a moment, Ron considered before he finally nodded. His lips were squeezed tight, and he still looked bitter, but he accepted Hermione's hug and softened a bit.
"You'll tell us as well?" Ginny wanted to know.
"If we can," Neville confirmed. "We'll try."
"Try hard," she replied harshly.
"Master Neville, sir?" came a squeaky voice from the direction of the entrance. "Mistress asks you to come and get ready, Master Neville, sir."
"Thank you, Tafty," Neville smiled at the elf, "We'll be back in a moment."
It was a relief of sorts to be able to finish this uncomfortable situation. Ron needed time to adjust, Harry, Ron, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to stop talking, and Ginny's thoughts got stuck on their first year, and she shot angry looks, especially towards Harry, trying to understand how he could not only stand this monster, but say it's fine. Only Fred and George seemed to be as cheerful as they were.