An evening Ritual
Forty minutes after a dinner Hermione might have rushed through, back in the Room of Requirement, Daphne was sitting in a chalk circle with the brass bowl, candles at significant points of the circle, and a cheat-sheet.
Hermione and all the other girls watched at Daphne lit the candles, burned some sage, chanted an incantation, and then, somewhat miraculously, the bowl filled with what looked to Hermione a lot like blood.
Daphne gave out a squeak, and said shakily, "Oh god. That was… most unusual." she wrinkled her nose. "I need a jar." she added.
Hermione willed there to be a jar, and one appeared on the desk. Tracey quickly cast some cleaning charms on the jar, and handed it to Daphne, who decanted the contents – and hastily vanished the rest.
Daphne stood up, carrying the jar. She frowned. "Why are we keeping this?"
"Oh, you can use it to raise blood-protections on your home," said Hermione as blandly as she could.
"Obeah," said Lils. "That's some powerful magic."
"Blood magic" said Sally, judgementally.
"Well yes" said Hermione. "Lil's, the compendium's ingredients index should have a reference to the protections ritual. From things Harry has said, that's how he was safe growing up – but you've got to live where the blood-based protections are for at least part of every year for it to work."
"Granger?" asked Perks. "Does your house have any protections?"
"Um no," said Hermione.
Daphne and Sally gasped.
"Well I'm a muggleborn. My parents can't cast protections." said Hermione.
"You can pay Gringotts curse-breaking department to put up protective enchantments," said Tracey. "Or freelance enchanters."
"Well yes, but I suspect this is better," said Hermione "And obviously, you can repeat the ritual to ..."
"You can repeat putting on a blood-based enchantment?" asked Daphne.
"Oh yes, most rituals can be repeated. Some of them, like that divination one can't be repeated, but a lot can. The dreadful one for strength that has scarring has a warning that the scars will get much worse each time you repeat it. Of course, the Witches version, in the Sisterhood of Artemis doesn't cause scarring, but the sacrifices are a bit more complicated." said Hermione.
"Whoa whoa whoa…. You can do things multiple times? You can't take two of most potions," said Tracey
"Not safely, ,no" said Hermione. "But yes… I think, actually that's why Ritual magic is considered a gateway to Dark Arts. Because you can stack it, well in many cases."
"Like that heat resisting ritual," said Perks.
"Well, I used Salamanders, but you can use Ashwinders, and it protects from more magical fires. To be honest bluebell flames are fairly safe; but the cauldron gets hot. I put bluebell flames in jars as pocket-warmers." said Hermione.
"Ashwinders!" said Tracey.
"Well, Ron suggested Ashwinder eggs instead; they're a potion ingredient. And the boys pointed out the ingredient substitution charts from Potions work for Rituals, because Potions are a special class of rituals." said Hermione.
"Potter and Weasley?" asked Daphne, with her eyebrows up.
"They like rituals. They said it doesn't seem so fiddly," said Hermione "But we've only done a heat-resistance ritual, not anything that needs a particular astronomical alignment. They'll change their tune when they have to work out a personalised timing of a ritual."
"Gosh, that almost makes potions sound… less annoying," said Tracey.
"I agree," said Daphne. "Fortunately for me, I'm good at Astronomy."
"She's a night owl, not a morning person," said Tracey.
"Is there a ritual for needing less sleep?" asked Perks. "Only that'd be handy."
"That's probably dangerous" said Hermione. "There's a potion to take instead of sleep."
"Oh – I know. Wide-awake," said Perks.
"No, there's an advanced potion called antisophorous draught that is supposedly like getting several hours sleep. It's not in Advanced Potions Making, so it's not covered at School, so I'd assume it's a complete pain in the arse to brew," said Hermione.
"Or you could just sleep," said Daphne.
"It would be handy to have some saved up before NEWTs," said Hermione.
"Is there a ritual to get smarter?" asked Perks.
"Not as far as I know" said Hermione. "But I'm hardly an expert, and the Rituals compendium doesn't have a cross-referenced index."
Lils paged about in the compendium, and stopped, frowning "There's a ritual for under-nourished children." she said.
"Oh my!" said Hermione.
Tracey went and leaned over Lil's shoulder. "Rituals for the Practitioner?" she said "Granger?"
A copy thudded into being on the desk, and Lils went and paged through it.
"Oh. One for bad eyesight." she said, hesitating. "Oh hell no. not doing that!"
"What?" asked Perks.
"Stabbing their eyes with a glass dagger," said Lils. Perks squeaked in fright.
"Nope nope nope," said Tracey. "You're keeping the specs. But also… Mum should know about that one. She's a healer at St Mungo's."
"There it is, for malnourished children," said Lils. "I can think of a few girls could do with dis." And she turned the page. "Oh. Well that's graphic" she added.
"What is ?" asked Tracey, striding over, and eyeballing the textbook. "Oh. Nude drawings of people!" she announced. "Though… what's that even about?"
"A ritual for correcting inherited illnesses?" said Lils. And for no reason at all, she looked up and over at Daphne, who started walking towards Lils.
"Eh? And it make yah taller and stuff" added Lils.
"What!" said Daphne, shoving in to look too. "GRANGER!" she said, staring at the page.
Hermione got a look finally, and puzzled out the introduction. A ritual to improve the inherited character of a person. The diagram of nude people was showing double images, with the second set in blue ink, with the measure written sideways "Four inches".
"You can get taller?" asked Daphne. "I'd like to be taller!"
"Everyone 'cept Millie wants to be taller" said Lils.
"But how could it possibly work!" protested Hermione. "I get the general idea, that it changes you inherited characteristics, but what would define better anyway!"
"That's runes," said Sally. "That whole bottom bit's in runes. It's like some divination ritual."
"For Morgana's sake!" said Daphne "A bloody ritual that uses divination to change your height, how could that possible work, and why would anyone bother!"
"Well, I'd like longer legs," admitted Sally. "You could do with a bit of height."
"I am not short," muttered Daphne.
"You're shorter than Granger," said Sally.
Hermione puzzled over the badly written Latin introduction, finally realising what it was saying.
"A ritual to make someone the best inheritance they could be from their parents" said Hermione. "It must rewrite your DNA using divination. That's… god. No, Merlin's beard, that's the most amazing bit of magic I've ever heard of."
And she skimmed the ritual, and the 'powered silver' stood out. "Oh. It needs pounds of powered silver. It won't be cheap."
"Pounds?" asked Daphne "It's about a galleon a pound. Let me see?"
Hermione barely kept an observation about that in, and Daphne pushed over and read the list. "That's going to be hundreds of galleons. Bother. That would be a bloody brilliant perk of being in the coven." she said. "I'll have to run it past mother. There are… reasons we might want to do it." Daphne paused. "Reasons we won't be talking about loudly." she added.
"I think we'll need to make some sort of arrangement to ensure that…. If there was a coven, that coven business stayed confidential, wherever possible," said Hermione.
"Are you ever lifting the curse on Edgecombe?" asked Lils matter-of-factly. "The foundation don't really conceal it."
"Oh, I suppose so," said Hermione grudgingly.
"I don't want us signing up to disfiguring marks," said Daphne.
"No," agreed Hermione, unable not to breathe in Greengrass's perfume. Violets or something.
"I've got a plan," said Tracey "We make a suitable sign-up sheet, our tame mad genius there curses it suitably, and we proceed to make life better for witches. Starting with periods, and the heat-resistant hands thing."
"That' one's pretty easy really," said Hermione. "No particular star alignment required."
Tracey nodded "And then we do that ugly divination ritual. We pool funds and bet on the Quidditch World cup, the International broom racing cup league leaderboard, whatever the Americans do instead of proper quidditch… and the funds go into a coven-operated account to pay for rituals for coven members. Hypothetically, including that best-inheritance ritual. I'm pretty amazing, I have to admit, but I'm not as clever as mum, or as good at remembering things as dad. And well, who wouldn't like to be a little better looking."
"That's… a pretty major undertaking," said Hermione, swallowing.
"Yes, the sisterhood of Artemis rises again," said Tracey. "And we all benefit."
"There are um, six of us," said Hermione "That's a lot of sports results"
"Oh. I was thinking we think a little bigger than that. And longer-term. I think that once we've got it working for us, we expand. All the way to first-years," said Tracey. "Every witch deserves to be pain-free."
"It sounds like a lot of work," said Hermione, unsure.
"We can do it over the holidays," said Daphne blithely. "The ministry can't track it."
"That suggests we prioritise rituals we will need to cast spells for earlier," said Hermione. "Though, I am seventeen this year, so technically I could..."
"Technically my arse," said Sally. "You can get an apparation licence as soon as you're seventeen and they can't trace you."
"I'll write to my mother." said Daphne. "We've got space in the outbuildings to do things, and a supply of most ingredients at cost."
So the coven got bigger.
"You're not the boss of this coven" said Pansy.
(The natural size of any group of witches is actually one, according to some wits. This is a cruelly unfair misrepresentation of witches, who are quite capable of working together. It's just that being born able to shape reality by, essentially willing it to be so, there's an increasing tendency as witches age, for them to simply shape a little bit of the universe to suit themselves perfectly, and ignore other bits. Well, except for the bits supplying tea, chocolate and other essentials. Most witches in the pecuniary position of having to work for a living would find t-shirts with 'Born to Rune, forced to work' quite acceptable sleepwear, regardless of their politics vis-a-vis muggle clothing items.)
-==0==-
Harry and Ron took an evening to go shopping at the Room of Lost Things.
"Trunks?" asked Harry.
Ron summoned a trunk, which landed with a thud that dislodged a cloud of dust and doxy wings.
"I think I'd like a bedside table," said Ron. Harry frowned. "You've got one."
"For home," said Ron. "And a wardrobe, and maybe a new bed. Well, different bed."
"Wouldn't your mum, kind-of notice?"
"Point. I'd need my own house really," said Ron.
Harry lifted his eyebrows.
"Wot?"
"There aren't houses in here," said Harry.
"I've been pondering that, wondering what the first move is," said Ron. "I think it's," And he summoned jewellery. A small cloud of broken necklaces, dented rings, and rather a lot of mismatched earrings.
"But it's tat," said Harry.
Ron did something unnatural and unexpected, and took a book from his robe pocket.
"Wot?" asked Harry.
"Home metalcasting," said Ron. "It was in the Library next to a book on carnivorous giraffe breeding."
"Surely there aren't carnivorous giraffes?"
"Nah, I skimmed the introduction. Said they were too hard to breed. Kept eating one another," said Ron.
Harry snorted.
"Nah, really." said Ron "I checked and the last chapter was definitely about how to make weird new animal hybrids, and the last name on the borrowing card was Hagrid."
"Oh," said Harry, wondering if destroying that book wasn't a public service. Not as big a deal as perhaps Tom Riddle's cursed diary, but… no more Blast Ended Skrewts? That book was evil.
Ron referred to the metal-casting book for a bit, so Harry idly explored the massive piles of mess.
"Harry, get us some clay," said Ron, still reading.
"Accio … armour breastplate!" said Ron, and the second one he summoned didn't have an axe buried in it.
Ron made a mould out of the clay Harry had transfigured from a broken flowerpot. For a form, he just used his index finger.
The gold melted in the red-hot steel breastplate, and trickled down into the small clay mould. After hissing for an absolute age, Harry poked it with a steel poker. The clay split open revealing a gold ingot the size, and shape, obviously, of Ron's index finger.
"You're right" said Harry "You can melt it all down. There you go, your first ingot."
Ron carefully picked it up, and hefted it. "This must be worth a fortune – a hundred galleons at least."
"Well, you've earned it. I mean, you had to get all the junk jewellery into a pile and work out the mould, and the armour was brilliant." said Harry.
"Harry, you don't understand. I've… nobody in my family's seen this much money."
"So don't spend it all at once, I guess," said Harry drily. "Or pick your nose with it" he added.
Ron snorted.
"Could try gems, I suppose," said Ron a bit later. The Room didn't sort things that well, it turned out, so Summoning charms were the order of the day. Harry ended up giving Ron an impromptu lesson in them. "Only because Hermione taught me," he said, summoning daggers, and shielding, as some sort of irresponsible Defence drill.
Ron got stuck into summoning treasure, and Harry helped. The treasure remaining was mostly mismatched earrings and ugly jewellery.
"Great, it's a mixture. What do we do?" said Ron, looking despondently at the mess.
"Oh, I know this one!" said Harry "Pick the gems out, and uh, melt metal as per previous experiment."
"Pick out?"
"Use an um, dagger?"
"Pliers." said Ron. "Bugger. Dad's got some really good ones; the twins use them to pull nose hairs."
"Nose hairs? Are they mental?"
"I didn't say their nose hairs," said Ron, rubbing his nose.
But Rune kits, of which there were hundreds in the room of lost thing, in various stages of disrepair, had small probes that worked well to pry gems out of earrings and bracelets.
Harry put down a sheet "To catch the gems," he said.
Ron tipped his head "That's… you thought of that?"
"Nah, it's like how my aunt cuts hair," said Harry.
"Oh, mum just vanishes it,"
Plink Plink, plink plink went the probes. Ron threw the metal bits into a bucket.
"What on earth would we do with all those tiny gems?" asked Ron later, having made a small silver ingot.
"Um, put them in a sack and take it to Gringotts?" suggested Harry. "It's not like it's going to surprise them."
An hour later, Ron stretched and said "This getting rich stuff is hard work," wiping his brow.
"I'm just glad we did the heat-resistance ritual first." said Harry "You woulda' got so badly burnt."
And Ron didn't seem to notice that Harry only took sapphire earrings.
While Ron made another ingot, Harry squinted at the earrings he'd collected and made a matching pair, and a necklace.
"What are you doing?" asked Ron.
Harry felt his face heating up. "I'm um, making a sapphire earring and necklace set for Greengrass."
"Cos she's got blue eyes?"
"Es," said Harry, staring at the floor.
"Nah, for one thing, you should get her a pearl necklace – Fred always says that girls like pearl necklaces more than you expect, and secondly – you should be giving her um, emeralds, to match your eyes."
"My eyes, Ron, are not emerald. No girl's going to want bits of old glass bottles on a bit of wire."
"You say that, but firstly, Luna Lovegood, if you were engaged to her, and secondly, speaking as a bloke with a goblet full of small gems, emeralds vary in colour. And her eyes aren't sapphire anyway, they're grey-ish."
"Got any big emeralds then?" Harry asked.
"Nah. Tip out my goblet of gemstones and check but I think emeralds are expensive." said Ron. Like her, thought Harry.
-==0==-
"I've been thinking about that best inheritance ritual" said Daphne Greengrass, sitting down next to Hermione in the Library without ceremony "And I have to do it for my sister. Astoria. She's a year below us."
"Really?" asked Hermione. "She'd have to sign up."
"That's not important. Granger could you um… do you know a privacy charm?"
Hermione cast a charm that she had grudgingly learned from the potions book.
"What is it?"
"My sister, well, my entire family have an inherited curse. It mostly effects the women of the Greengrass line, and um. Well, some of us don't have it, like me, and then my sister has it… and she um. Has to take potions. She was quite determined to come to Hogwarts."
Greengrass's lower lip quivered.
"Come to Hogwarts?"
"She had trouble learning to walk," said Daphne "And well… nobody with it lives to be fifty."
Hermione's mouth fell open. After a pause she said "Have you talked to Harry about this?"
"Oh god. I'm scared," said Daphne. "He barely knows me, and then I have to tell him his children might be sickly." She reached in her robe pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose.
"Oh fuck," said Hermione. "Now, just don't worry too much – Harry's a very kind person, and he'll be understanding."
"Obviously, as he's my soulmate," said Daphne, sniffing. "He's so thoughtful" she added.
Hermione resisted saying that that had to be the curse they were both under, as Harry was in fact, a teenage boy, and while he was keen to save people, he was just a boy. Though he was oddly obsessive about Greengrass. And given that they still barely spoke to one another, they certainly weren't snogging or anything.
"Well you could um. If your parents thought it would help – you could work out when," said Hermione.
"Could I copy out the pages?" asked Greengrass "Mummy could check them over, and you know, order in ingredients." She bit her lower lip.
"I think that's an excellent plan," said Hermione, and she rummaged in her bookbag.
"Granger?" asked Daphne "Would you like a space-expanded featherlight bookbag for Christmas?"
"Well, yes, but who would give it to me?" asked Hermione.
"Well, I would. This is very important to me. My sister… you have no idea how horrible it is when your little sister has to be rushed to St Mungo's over and over again," said Daphne.
Hermione felt her jaw dislocating from gaping. She swallowed "Tracey's mum's a healer, right?" she asked.
"Yes but she can't help Tori," said Daphne indignantly. "I got my courage up to ask her when I was younger – when she still thought mummy was evil, and she looked up Tori's file and the next time I saw her she was doing that look – the one Healers get when they are telling you bad news."
"Mmm," said Hermione. "It's just… I was thinking you might have Mrs Davis on hand during the ritual… it might be taxing, and she'd be right there."
"Yes. I will ask mummy," said Daphne quietly.
She painstakingly copied out the multipage ritual, and slid it over for Hermione to check. Greengrass had neat handwriting, at least, thought Hermione. And half and hour or so later she was sure the copy was perfect.
"It's a great copy, Daphne. Best of luck at Yule," said Hermione.
"Thanks Granger!" said Greengrass, packing the parchment carefully and leaving.
It wasn't till she'd left that Hermione realised everyone in the coven knew they could do rituals over holidays, and it felt… well the thing with Greengrass felt like the absolute right thing to do.
Hermione flicked back a few pages, and looked at the ritual for malnourished children. She thought of Harry, and started making notes; he was getting that as soon as they could do it. And she discovered it needed specific astronomical alignments, which made it actually harder to plan for than the more drastic best inheritance ritual. And it occurred to Hermione that she could do that ritual herself. Because not having out-of-control hair would be nice, as would being a little taller. Or. She had to admit to herself, maybe having a slightly better proportioned face.
Hermione decided to write up the ritual (though it was expensive to do) for a coven meeting, before the winter solstice. Maybe someone would have an idea how to afford it. She made a note to ask Daphne in Arithmancy about an accurate price list for it.
She caught up with Harry and Ron later that night, Ron, for some reason, lugging a trunk up the steps to the boys dorms.
"Hi" she said.
"Hi Hermione" said Harry. Not explaining.
"Can we talk?" asked Hermione.
"Give a bloke a minute," complained Ron. "Cor, I could do with being stronger." he added, dragging the trunk. Harry bent down and helped carry it.
Once they'd dropped it next to Ron's regular trunk. Harry asked "What's up?"
"Got an idea for a project we could do" said Hermione. She smiled at Dean "Dean, could we have a moment to discuss… things?"
"Sure" said Dean "I don't want to get involved in one of your dangerous schemes." he added, and left the dorm.
"They're not all dangerous" said Hermione. "Anyway, I think we should do a ritual at the winter solstice. That's just before Christmas."
"What does it do?" asked Ron.
"Makes you the best possible combination of your parents" said Hermione lightly. "The only catch is, it will require several hundred galleons worth of ingredients."
Harry's brow furred breifly. "That sounds… surprisingly awesome" he said.
"So, what will we need" asked Ron casually.
"There's still the matter of over three hundred galleons per person" said Hermione. "And I sort-of want to go home for Christmas too."
"Solstice is um… before Christmas?" asked Harry. "Isn't it?"
"You passed Astronomy, you should know" said Hermione. Harry bit his lower lip and furrowed his brow. "Last year it was the twenty-first." he said "It was in the exam."
Hermione nodded.
"That's no bother," said Ron. "Train runs on the twenty-third, first day of winter hols." He looked around the room "I don't think I'd want to do it at home. Mum would freak out." he added.
Hermione nodded "I could see your mum not liking it. On the other hand, I'm looking forward to showing my parents some magic, and no risk of getting in trouble with the Ministry."
"Please be careful, Hermione," urged Harry. "The automatic letters are quite threatening, and there are people in the Ministry that don't like us."
"Yes, well, but I don't have them sending Dementors after me," said Hermione. Ron punched Harry in the shoulder. "They've got it in for you, mate" said Ron cheerily.
"Arse," said Harry. He paused, as if thinking. "Have you made any progress on a way for the um, covne to fund itself?" he asked.
"There are ideas circulating" said Hermione. "Nothing yet; we need certain celestial alignments."
"How many girls in the coven anyway?" asked Harry.
"Oh, about fifty all up. About ten core members" said Hermione casually.
"Fifty!" said Ron. "Ruddy hell that's every girl our age!"
"It's not, but we've got a few from the year below and above" said Hermione.
Harry grinned. "Um, are you sure the coven will make money?" he asked.
"Quite sure" said Hermione.
"Well, um, as a um… sweetener, I could lend the coven a few galleons, to cover that ritual before Christmas" said Harry.
"But Harry, that would be… thousands and thousands of Galleons" said Hermione.
Harry shrugged. "I'm kinda rich, actually."
"I couldn't possibly" said Hermione. "You'd lose interest, for starters."
"I'm not sure Gringotts pays interest" said Harry "Never seen any sign of it."
"Nah it's just a safe place to put money" said Ron. "But I know you don't borrow money from the goblins. They're right sods about interest; Bill said the debt collections unit are just plain evil."
"I suppose we could pay you some interest, make it a proper loan" mused Hermione.
"Ten percent sounds pretty generous, doesnt' it?" asked Harry "The telly advertises interest rates and ten percent is about right? Isn't it?"
"Harry, you're talking about …" Hermione muttered to herself "Seventeen thousand galleons. That's… " She frowned. "Eighty thousand pounds. That's an extraordinary sum."
"I am actually verging on filthy rich," admitted Harry. "The Potters have been rich a long time. But we've never earned any interest."
"Well, we'd be paying it off as soon as we got a … income" said Hermione.
"How?" asked Ron. "Just for interest?"
"Withces magic" said Hermione "So none of your business, Ron."
"I was just asking" said Ron, opening his spare trunk and getting something out. He handed Hermione a … sold gold finger. "What do you think that's worth in muggle money. It's gold?"
Hermione had to stare at the moulded gold finger, which weighed half a pound at least.
"I have no idea Ron, but a hell of a lot. That must be at least eight ounces."
"Wonder how much gold is an ounce?" asked Harry.
Hermione shrugged "I think I remember hearing it got to over two hundred and fifty pounds per ounce." She frowned "Ron, that'd be about fifty galleons. So… About a hundred galleons per finger."
"Huh." said Ron "Good thing I've got a fistful."
"Ron, where did you get golden fingers?" asked Hermione.
"Made them" said Ron idly. "It's hard work."
"That heat-resistance ritual was really useful" added Harry. "Huh, come to think of it, Malfoy must have always known my family was rich, explains why he wanted to be my friend."
"The Malfoys are like, really rich though," said Ron. "Bunch of criminals." he added.
"Yeah, but I thinks it was like, I could be his friend that was poorer, but not so poor it was awkward." said Harry. "No offence mate."
"None taken," said Ron "I mean, I've got my little nest-egg for a house and stuff now. And we still need to cash in the gems."
"What gems?" asked Hermione.
"Oh, got a sack of mixed small gems" said Ron casually. "Don't bother trying to mine the room of requirement for treasure. I got the lot."
"I got some," Harry interjected.
"Well yeah." admitted Ron. "Melted down all the junk into fingers. Got Silver and gold ones."
"Daphne was going to get the ingredients through her family connections" said Hermione.
"Oh Great!" said Harry suddenly enthusiastic "I'll go see her, orgnaise to transfer some money."
"Harry, curfew is soon" said Hermione, checking her watch "Ten minutes. You can do it tomorrow."
"I could easily get down to their dorm in ten" said Harry.
"Tommorow." said Hermione. "God, have some bloody patience."
'He wants to go see her." said Ron. "He's got a present for her."
Harry blushed.
"Ron, how does apparation licensing work?" asked Hermione.
"There's a ministry examiner" said Ron. "You have to do the test and pass" he added.
"Oh. Like driving" said Hermione "I'm old enough to learn, you see. The um coven have suggest I might get a private tutor. Having someone who can apparate in the coven will help a lot with shopping, you see."
Harry snorted.
"What?"
"You're the one friend that's old enough to drive" said Harry. "All coven related shopping, of course." he added snarkily.
"Well, there's side-along apparation too" said Ron "You can carry someone. Or maybe even two people if it's not too far?" and he looked at Hermione speculatively.
"You can't apparate at Hogwarts. It's in Hogwarts, A History" said Hermione.
"Apparation boundary is in the trees at the edge of the forest," said Harry "Fake Moody."
"Borrow Harry's cloak, make sure you're not walking into an acromantula, bob's your uncle," said Ron.
"Crookshanks has a good sense for the forest", speculated Harry. "He's explored it for years and not got eaten. Sirius even got him to buy my Firebolt somehow."
"I don't think I've ever seen a Kneazle buying stuff, but I guess you can do it. He did, after all" said Ron.
"I could ask Sirius about it if you want?" asked Harry.
"The girls have asked about Crookise. I suppose I should take him to meetings."
"Well, he is a good judge of people." said Harry mildly. "And I'd feel better if I knew you were screening your coven members for being untrustworthy."
Hermione smiled slightly. "That's touching Harry. Actually a lot of um, Daphne's friends wanted to see Crooksise."
"Till them meet it in person," said Ron.
"He's a he not an it, Ronald!" said Hermione, stomping off.
"She loves Crookshanks," said Harry.
"Totally mental," muttered Ron.
"Course, it shoes she's not that bad" said Harry.
"Hermione's great," said Ron.
"I meant Daphne," said Harry.
"Are you gong to be mental about her?" asked Ron. Harry shook his head nervously. Not where anyone could see, anyway.