Harry Potter and the Fifth Year from Hell

Chapter 6:  Apparating Lessons

“It’s not easy, Apparition, and when it’s not done properly it can lead to nasty complications.”

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Ch. 6

*  *  *

Remus Lupin arrived after breakfast the next morning for their first lesson in Apparating.  Harry could tell from his formal manner with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley that he’d never been to the Burrow before.  Mrs. Weasley welcomed him warmly, but with an “I’m not prejudiced against werewolves” self-consciousness that made Harry uncomfortable.  Mr. Weasley hid his concerns, if he had any, better.

“Good to see you again, Mr. Lupin,” he said.  “It’s very kind of you to train my older sons as well.”

“I’m glad to,” answered Lupin seriously.  “They were a pleasure to teach when I was at Hogwarts.”

Mr. Weasley raised his eyebrows in surprise and Mrs. Weasley’s mouth fell open.  It seemed they were not used to hearing that from Fred and George’s professors.  Fred and George smiled virtuously.  Lupin turned to them.

“But my first priority is going to be Harry, Hermione, and Ron,” he said with a stern look.  “You’re both bright boys, and I’m sure you can keep up without me having to take extra time with you.”

“We will,” they answered.

Mrs. Weasley suggested that they do their first lessons up on the field they used for Quidditch.

“No one can see you there, and it’s wide and flat.”  Lupin nodded.

“First,” he said, “I need to give all of you your student certificates.”  He withdrew a handful of parchments from the shabby leather bag he carried.  “Hermione, here’s yours.  Harry.  Fred, George, and Ron.”

Harry looked at his certificate interestedly.  It was a stiff square, with violet letters and the silver seal of the Ministry of Magic.  It was signed by the head of the Department of Magical Transportation.

Let it be Known by these Presents that

HARRY JAMES POTTER

Is a Student of Apparition

With all the Rights, Duties, and Responsibilities Appertaining Thereunto

BEARER MAY APPARATE ONLY WHEN SUPERVISED BY CERTIFIED INSTRUCTOR

Alis volat propriis

“Let’s get started, kids,” Lupin said.  Ron led the way through the kitchen.  Harry tucked his certificate into his back pocket and followed him.  Ginny watched them disconsolately.  Lupin turned back to Mrs. Weasley.

“Mrs. Weasley, I’d be happy to let Ginny observe the lessons, if it’s all right with you.”

“Oh, do call me Molly,” said Mrs. Weasley.  Harry was happy to see that she seemed more natural now.  “Yes, of course you can watch, Ginny.”

“And please call me Remus,” said Lupin, smiling.

Harry fell into step beside Lupin as they climbed the path up the hill.  Though he had seen his old professor twice this summer, he hadn’t had much chance to talk to him either time.

“How’s Snuffles?” he asked, keeping his voice low.  Neither the twins nor Ginny knew about Sirius.

“Fine – and sends his love.”

“Is he, uh, doing anything dangerous?”

“Not at the moment.”  Lupin smiled playfully.  “When I left, he was sleeping on the hearth rug and dreaming of chasing rabbits.”

Harry laughed.  “Is he living with you, then?”

“For now.”

“Does he” – Harry lowered his voice to a thread of a whisper.  He knew Fred and George had ears like foxes. – “Does he stay a dog most of the time?”

“If there’s the slightest chance that anyone could see him,” said Lupin.  “My neighbours think I’ve got a new pet.”

“And how have you been?” Harry asked hesitantly.  Lupin’s robes were the same shabby ones he’d been wearing a year ago, and there was a little more grey in his hair now.

“Just fine,” said Lupin firmly.

For their first lesson, Lupin took some rubber squares from the bag he was carrying, and put them on the grass: five in a row spaced about 6 feet apart, and then five about 20 feet across from them.  He had his students stand on the first set of squares, and concentrate on what it felt like.

“Feel the ground beneath your feet.  Smell the grass.  Notice how the wind is hitting you.  Look at the sun, and the pattern the trees make against the sky.  Make it so that you can find this spot again for the rest of your life.”

Harry tried to memorize the spot of earth.  He noticed that Fred and George were uncharacteristically taking this seriously, so he would too.  After about 10 minutes, Lupin moved them to the other squares across from theirs.

“All right, do the same thing for this spot.  Concentrate on how it’s different from the other one.  Close your eyes and feel the difference.”

Harry tried.

“Now, keep your eyes closed and walk back to your other spot.”  Harry was amazed to find that he could do it.  When Lupin told them to open their eyes, he saw that they were all within a foot of their original squares.

“Very good,” said Lupin.  He had them walk back and forth several times with their eyes closed, until they could put both feet on the square every time. 

“Now, I want you all to take your wands out.  Apparating is typical of magic that you perform upon yourself.  You don’t really need your wand, and there’s no spoken spell either.  Animagus magic is the same.  However, most witches and wizards feel more confident with a wand in their hand.”

“All right, there’s no secret I can give you for this next part,” he continued.  “Close your eyes, take a deep breath, relax fully, and just wish your way to the other spot.  Remember exactly what it feels like, and just go there.”

Feeling foolish, Harry wished to be at the other spot.  Nothing happened.  It was impossible to try hard without tensing up.  He could remember clearly exactly what the breeze felt like at that other spot, and how the ground was a little rougher, but that didn’t move him one inch closer.

“Blimey!”  Ron’s exclamation made Harry’s eyes fly open.  Ron was on the other square!  Delight covered his face as he called, “Come on, it’s easy!”

At that moment, both Fred and George disappeared with a tiny “Pop” and reappeared on their own squares.  George tripped and fell over, but stood up with a huge smile.

“Excellent!”  Lupin beamed.  Harry and Hermione looked at each other in dismay.  Hermione raised her chin and closed her eyes determinedly.  She hated to be beaten in any magical accomplishment.  Harry wasn’t too crazy about it, either.

However, by the time they broke for lunch, neither Harry nor Hermione had budged from their original squares, while the three Weasley boys had popped back and forth dozens of times.  Harry was trembling from the effort of mental concentration and feeling extremely irritable.  Ron came to walk beside him and clapped him between the shoulder blades.

“You’re probably just hungry, Harry.  You won’t have any problems after lunch.  It’s easy, really.”  Harry scowled.

Hermione was behind, walking with Lupin, questioning him.

“Is it normal to take as long as this, Professor?  Or are we really bad at it?”  Harry strained to hear the answer.

“I’ve seen it take up to three days to get started,” said Lupin.  “Most students are able to start on the first day, though.”

“Can you tell what we’re doing wrong?”

“I have some ideas,” said Lupin.  “Harry, come here.”  Harry stopped to wait for the other two.  Ron caught up to Ginny.

“Race you down to the house?” he offered.  Without answering, Ginny took off running and Ron ran after her.  “Cheater!” he yelled.

Harry and Hermione looked anxiously at Lupin.

“It’s very common,” he said, “for Muggle-born students to take longer to learn to Apparate.  Or Muggle-raised like you, Harry.  I think it has something to do with not seeing it done when you were very young, so you don’t think of it as natural.  Even though you know it’s possible, your body doesn’t want to accept it.”  Lupin looked at them both for a moment.

“It may be a function of personality, too.  Both of you have shown powerful magical skills, when it comes to imposing your will on the people and things around you – whether turning chairs into sheep or putting a Leg-Locker curse on someone.  And you, Harry, have an extraordinary ability to resist others’ will.  I’ve heard how you fought the Imperius curse last year.  That’s truly amazing, even more so than your Patronus.”  He smiled at Harry and Harry smiled back, thinking with gratitude of the hours Lupin had put in, teaching him to make a Patronus.  Lupin went on.

“The problem is – self-magic requires relaxing and giving up control.  I think that’s hard for both of you, though I’m sure both of you could do it easily if you were startled or frightened and didn’t think about it.  Have you ever, by the way?”

“Apparated?” asked Harry.  “Yes, I actually have.  Once when I was at my old school, Dudley and his friends were chasing me, and I was suddenly up on the roof.  I had no idea how I got there.”  Lupin nodded.

“How about you?” he asked Hermione.  She frowned thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure, but I think I have.  I woke up once in the middle of the night, and I thought I’d fallen off the bed.  But there I was, in my bed as usual.  It felt very strange.”

“So, you know you can do it,” said their teacher.  “And after lunch, you will.  This time, I don’t want to see you getting all tired and strained.  I want to see you relaxed and happy-go-lucky.  Concentrate on letting go.”  He grinned.  “I don’t want to have to resort to yelling at you to startle you into going, though it is a standard teaching technique.”

Harry felt much better.  “Professor Snape wouldn’t hesitate.”

“No,” agreed Lupin, “he’d enjoy it.”  Hermione giggled.

*

At lunch, Fred, George, and Ron were exuberant, telling their parents about their triumphs.  Ginny listened bright-eyed.  Remus turned to her sternly.

“Ginny, you know what the penalty is for trying to Apparate without a License or Trainer, don’t you?  Even for only 20 feet.”  She nodded.

“Another year before you can get your License,” she grumbled.  “For each offence.”

“Just make sure you remember that,” said her mother severely.  “And none of you” – she looked at the others in turn – “are ever to do it without Remus telling you to, or it’s the same penalty.”

“Yes, Mum.”

“We won’t, Mrs. Weasley.”

At that moment, Percy walked into the kitchen.  Harry stared at him; this was the first time he had seen Percy, though he’d been at the Weasleys’ for two nights.  Percy was pale and unshaven, as if he’d just gotten out of bed.

Ginny smiled at Percy, but Harry was surprised to see Mrs. Weasley pursing her lips and not saying a word.  Percy had always been her favorite, and he looked ill.  Why was she not fussing over him?

“Uh, hi, Percy,” said Harry awkwardly.  Percy started as if he hadn’t even noticed Harry, and then swung his eyes to Hermione and Lupin.

“Hello, Harry.  Hello, Hermione, and Professor Lupin.  You’re here for the Apparating lessons?” 

“Yes,” Lupin held out his hand.  “It’s good to see you again, Percy.  I hope things are going well?”

Percy reddened, but shook hands with his former professor.

“Oh, yes, fine.  Well, busy, you know.”

Percy got a plate and managed to squeeze in to the kitchen table between Ginny and Mr. Weasley.  Harry caught Ron’s eye in a silent question, glancing from Percy to Mrs. Weasley.  Ron grimaced and raised his hand in a tippling gesture.  Harry felt his eyes widening.  Percy?  Drinking?  And hung over?  That was completely unlike the Percy he’d known at Hogwarts, or the Percy who’d been judging the Triwizard Tournament last year.  He looked around the table.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were talking unconcernedly to Remus, but Hermione was looking from Ron to Harry with consternation.  Ginny was staring down at her plate.

Harry had no chance to talk to Ron about it as they quickly cleaned up after lunch, and returned to the Quidditch field.  Fred, George, and Ron immediately began popping back and forth again, but Harry wasn’t bothered now.  He had an idea.  Standing on his square, he closed his eyes and relaxed as much as he could.  Then he imagined Dudley beside him, reaching out to grab him with his big fleshy hands.

Nothing happened.  Okay, maybe I’m not scared enough of Dudley any more.  Harry imagined Vernon Dursley puffing up the hill, shouting that he was going to take Harry back to Privet Drive.  NO!  I won’t! 

“Pop.”  Harry was on the other square.

“Good going, Harry!”  Ron grinned at him, giving him a thumb up.  Remus smiled with satisfaction.

“Well done, Harry,” he said.  Hermione opened her eyes at the voices and glared at Harry.  Harry laughed; sometimes Hermione was so competitive. 

He had to imagine dangers for himself a few more times, before he could finally Apparate just by wishing.  Hermione, however, was still trying, growing increasingly red in the face.  Harry told her his method, but it didn’t seem to work for her.  After a couple of hours, Harry saw Lupin sigh and pull something out of his bag.  He beckoned to Ron, who walked over to him with an interested expression, and whispered something in his ear.  Ron nodded, and took the object – two short wooden boards with leather handles.

“Keep your eyes closed, Hermione,” said Lupin soothingly.  “Are you relaxed?”  She nodded impatiently.  “Are you thinking of where you want to go?”

As Hermione nodded again, Ron crept up silently behind her.  Harry watched in fascination.

“All right – now,” said Lupin quietly. 

Ron banged the two boards together just behind her and shouted, “Watch out!”  Hermione gasped, and instantly disappeared, reappearing on her other square with a face like thunder.  Ron and the twins screamed with laughter.

“You did it, Hermione!”  Hermione gave Ron a withering glare in response to his shout and turned on Lupin with her hands on her hips.

“Professor!” she protested.  Lupin gave his characteristic wry shrug.

“I apologize, Hermione, but that’s what our teaching manuals suggest.  And call me Remus, remember?”

“That’s not what I’d like to call you,” muttered Hermione crossly, but then she smiled a bit.  “Well, it worked, anyway.  Now, let’s see if I can do it without being scared out of my skin.”

It took her a few minutes, but soon Hermione was popping back and forth with the rest of them.

“What will we do tomorrow, Professor – I mean Remus?” she asked, as they finished up for the day.

Remus put all the squares back into his bag and heaved it over his shoulder.

“Tomorrow, I’ll put your other squares down and see if you can Apparate to them without standing on them first,” he answered.  “Please read chapters three and four of Apparition for Beginners if you haven’t already.”

“How long before we can really go somewhere else?” asked Ron curiously.

“In a week or two, I should be able to take you to my house,” said Lupin.  “Normally I would teach you certain points in Diagon Alley, and Hogsmeade, but that would let our secret out.  I’ll probably take Fred and George there, though.  They’re my cover as to why I’m coming here each day.”

Harry swung his arms freely as he took big steps down the hill.  He felt that the wizarding world was opening up to him as it never had before.  Of course, he wasn’t going to be allowed to Apparate except in an emergency, but in just two years (and two years seemed shorter to him now than they’d ever seemed) he would be 17 and could get his real license.  For the first time, Harry tried to visualize what his life would be like as an adult Wizard.  What would he do for a living?  How rich was he, really?  Was his Gringotts gold enough to live on?  It looked like a huge pile to his eyes, but he had no idea how much homes and food cost.  Did Gringotts pay interest on gold in a vault?  Harry didn’t even know.

It all seemed hazy and unreal.  Harry’s steps slowed as he reached the flat ground.  Was it that he didn’t expect to live to be an adult?  Had Professor Trelawney’s predictions crept insidiously into his mind, or was he just rationally accepting that his life expectancy wasn’t the highest as long as Voldemort was after him?  Harry stopped walking completely as he felt himself filled with a new resolve.  He wanted to live to adulthood.  And if there’s any way I can, I will.  Though not – Harry remembered Peter Pettigrew – not if I have to give up my, well, honour.  But I won’t die without a fight. A smell of roasted potatoes drifted out from through the kitchen window.  Suddenly, Harry was ravenously hungry for dinner.

*

Remus Lupin declined Mrs. Weasley’s pressing invitation to stay and eat with them, laughingly declaring that he needed to go home and feed his dog.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said to his students.

“Uh, do you have just a second, Remus?” asked Harry.  Ron and Hermione looked at him curiously, and he gave them a little nod to show that they should come too.  The four of them went out on the front porch.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Lupin.

“Well, I just wanted to ask you – I haven’t heard from Hagrid at all.  Do you know anything about that, or if we should be worrying?” 

Lupin rubbed his hand with his chin, and looked away for a moment.  Then he took a deep breath.

“I can tell you that Dumbledore has heard from Rubeus Hagrid at least once this summer.  He reported some measure of success on his mission, and Dumbledore gave him another one.  I’m not surprised that you haven’t heard from him, and I don’t think you will any time soon.”  Harry let out a breath he’d been holding, but Lupin looked Harry in the eye and continued.

“But – I can’t say you shouldn’t be worrying.  Hagrid’s mission is very important, and he may face – quite a few dangers.”

“Is he visiting the giants?” Hermione burst out, though she kept her voice very low.  “We heard Dumbledore say that Fudge should send emissaries to the giants, and –”

Lupin looked seriously at Hermione.  “I’m afraid I can’t even tell you that much.  I’d better go now.”

“One more quick question,” begged Harry.  “It’s about the fire at Hermione’s house.”  Lupin nodded.

“I was wondering – Sirius said he would remember the scent of the people who did it.  Is there any way he can, well, go around smelling people?”  Ron let out a laugh, but hastily resumed his serious expression.

“We are trying that, Harry,” replied Lupin.  Sirius has already established that Lucius Malfoy was not one of the three people on the scene.  But I’m making him be very cautious; you know he’s still a wanted criminal.”

“I was wondering,” said Harry, “if you might want to borrow my invisibility cloak and let Sirius walk around Knockturn Alley and, uh, wherever.”

Lupin raised his brows.  “That’s a very interesting idea, Harry, and a generous offer.  I’ll propose it to Dumbledore tonight.”

“Just tell me if you need it,” said Harry with a grin.

*

They moved the tables onto the lawn for dinner that night.  Percy seemed more like his usual self and ate chicken and potatoes with a good appetite while he listened to their Apparition adventures.  He smiled at Hermione.

“In my experience,” he said kindly, with the air of one who had been Apparating for approximately a century, “it’s those who don’t learn to Apparate too quickly who end up the best at it.  To do accurate long distance Apparition, you’ve got to take it seriously.”

“What, did it take you a long time, too?” asked Fred quickly. 

“Yes,” said George, “but then they showed him a thin-bottomed cauldron, and he was gone like a shot.”

Mrs. Weasley directed a glare at the twins.

“You can laugh,” shot back Percy irritably, “but wait until you try Apparating internationally by coordinates.  Just last week, a pair of bozos from Cornwall ended up miles from where they were supposed to be in Sicily, hardly knowing a word of Italian.  If I hadn’t been able to smooth things down –”

“Did you sing to them, Perce?”

“ – there could have been a very nasty international incident.”

“Percy’s in charge of Travel and Immigration, now,” Ron muttered to Harry and Hermione. “He was cheesed off that he didn’t get the Department Head job after – ”  Ron trailed off as he realized that Percy was listening.

“I did NOT expect to get Department Head in my first year, Ron” said Percy crossly.  “Not that anyone could have replaced Mr. Crouch.  I could have made a better job of it than that – Gudgeon, though.”

“Uh, what gudgeon?” asked Harry.

“That gudgeon, Gudgeon,” said George brightly.  “Percy’s new boss, Davey Gudgeon.  Percy thinks he’s a right cock-up.”

“Oh, he’ll settle down,” said Mr. Weasley soothingly.  “It’s not easy to take over a department after a mess like that.  Of course, he’d have done better to have kept Percy as his personal assistant until he learned the ropes, but he’ll get it sorted all right.”

Percy scowled down at his plate.  Harry frowned. 

“Why does that name sound familiar?” he asked.

“Dave Gudgeon?  I don’t think you’ve ever met him,” Mr. Weasley answered.  “He’s just back from five years representing England at the International Confederation of Wizards in Istanbul.  Cheerful chap, about thirty-two, black curly hair, scar on one eye.”

“That’s it!” exclaimed Harry.  “Professor Lupin told me a boy named Davey Gudgeon was injured by the Whomping Willow.”

“Yes,” said Mrs. Weasley.  “Remember, he used to go out with Annie when she was finishing Hogwarts?  He had an eye patch then that he wore all the time.  Made him look dashing – like a pirate.  He was a sweet boy.”

“May I be excused, Mum?” asked Percy.  Without waiting an answer he stood up and strode from the table.  Mrs. Weasley shook her head sadly.

“Who wants to play Quidditch after dinner?” asked Ginny.  Fred and George looked at each other. 

“No, we’d better, uh –” said Fred.

“—go up to our room and, uh –” said George.

“—study,” said Fred.  Mrs. Weasley regarded them suspiciously.

“How about you lot?”  Ginny asked. 

“I feel like playing chess,” said Ron.  “Give me a game, Harry?”

“Sure.”

Ron pulled out the chessboard in the front room while Ginny and Hermione got started on the washing up.  Harry quickly found himself in difficulties.  He hadn’t played chess in months.  He was rusty, and his chessmen were uncooperative.  By the time the girls came into the room, Harry was down to a king and two pawns and Ron was chasing him all over the board.

“Yikes, that was fast!” said Ginny, dropping down onto the floor where they were playing.  Hermione sat on an armchair.

“Checkmate,” said Ron.  “Harry, that was ruddy awful.  Hermione, can you give me a real game?”

“We need to read those two chapters for Remus,” said Hermione.

Ron stretched out on the floor with his arms under his head.  “I have a better idea.  Since you’ve undoubtedly memorized them, why don’t you just recite them to us?”

“Just because you had an easy time of it today,” said Hermione, “doesn’t mean you can skip the reading.  It’s going to get much harder, you know.”

“That reminds me!” said Ron cheekily.  “You never thanked me for helping you this afternoon.”

Harry grinned.  Hermione huffed.

“Helping – is that what you call it?” she muttered.  “I’d like to return the favour sometime, then.”

Ginny giggled.  “If Ron had been the one to have trouble, we could’ve thrown a spider on him – that would do it.”

Ron sat up abruptly.  “Right – Harry, let’s go do that reading.”

“Wait,” said Harry.  He lowered his voice.  “Ron, what’s wrong with Percy?  Is he drinking?”

“Yeah,” said Ron, “He’s been getting pissed every Friday night.  Every other night he works late.  We only see him on weekends.”

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Hermione.  “Is it that he doesn’t get along with his boss?”

Ginny started to shake her head, but then hesitated.  Harry turned quickly toward her.

“What is it, Ginny?”

“Well,” she said, “I know he’s not really happy at work just now, and he did sort of get demoted, but I think it’s this thing with Penny, really.”

“What thing with Penny?” asked Ron.  “And how d’you know so much about it?”

“Penny wrote to me,” said Ginny.  “You know, I got to know her year before last when Percy brought her home at Christmas-time.  She was really nice about being Petrified and everything.  Anyway, when she dumped Percy she wrote to me – sort of a goodbye because we wouldn’t be seeing her any more.”

“She chucked Percy completely?” asked Ron, astonished.  “When was this?”

“Just after school was out.”  Ginny and Ron shared a look of deep concern, and Ron muttered a string of curses that left Hermione sputtering.

“Ron!  Stop that!” she said.  “Why is it so bad if Percy and Penelope broke up?  I mean, it’s a shame, but – Oh!”  Hermione put her hand to her mouth in consternation.

“Yeah,” said Ginny, nodding glumly, “the Curse.”

“What are you three on about?  What curse?”  Harry was completely baffled.  He was amazed to see Ginny, Hermione, and Ron all looking embarrassed.

Hermione looked at Ginny, who looked at Ron.  Ron finally spoke, with assumed lightness.

“What, didn’t I ever tell you about our little curse, Harry?”

“No, Ron, I don’t believe you have,” said Harry sarcastically.

Hermione jumped up.  “Here, I found it last night in Secrets of the Devonshire Moors – Seven Hundred Years of Magical History and Legend.  It’s in this bookcase here.  She pulled a square book with a flaking leather cover from the bottom shelf of one of the bookshelves flanking the fireplace, and found a page.  “Look, Harry.”

Harry read out loud from the page she indicated.

            A similar, but much less dreadful, tradition is associated with the Weasley and Whitby families of King’s Pyland, Mary Tavy, Chudleigh, Bovey Tracey, Ottery St. Catchpole, and Doddiscombesleigh.  The Weasley Blessing, or as it is more commonly known, the Weasley Curse, has been passed down in the family since the end of the sixteenth century.  It is said to have originated with one Sydney Weasley who performed a great service (variously reported to be ridding Lyme Bay of an overly friendly sea serpent or curing him of an unpleasant social disease) for Francis Drake, the most powerful wizard of his time.  In return, Weasley is said to have received the blessings of fidelity and fecundity.  Both the Weasley family, and the Whitby family, to whom it passed by the marriage of Anthea Weasley to Lysander Whitby in 1640, have found it a mixed blessing.  Perhaps fortunately for the population balance of the region, the propensity of these families to have multiple male offspring is counterbalanced by a high percentage of lifetime bachelors (presumably due to the fidelity portion of the Curse combined with an early unhappy choice).

“Yeah, that’s us,” said Ron cheerfully, when Harry had read this out loud.  “The one-shot Weasleys.  It’s cool that we’re in a book!”  He frowned.  “Don’t know what they mean by “fortunately,” though.”

“We would have a lot more fortune if our ancestors hadn’t had so many sons,” said Ginny.  Ron laughed.

“Well, yeah, the family would be a lot richer,” he said, “but you and I wouldn’t exist at all, Gin.  I reckon none of us would, since Dad was – what? – the seventh son in his family.”

“Can we get back to Percy?” asked Hermione impatiently.  “Does this mean if he doesn’t get back together with Penny, he can never fall in love with anybody again?”

“That’s it,” said Ron.

“But – that seems crazy.  Has anybody ever tried?  How do you know this isn’t just some kind of superstition?  There are a lot of pretty dodgy things in that book, like that Grim.”

“You mean the Grim that killed Uncle Bilius?” asked Ron, bristling.

“Well, that’s just it,” said Hermione.  “Maybe it’s just a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“Right,” said Ron swiftly.  “And Dad and all his brothers have all boys just because they’re expecting to, is that it?”

Harry was glad to see Ron and Hermione back to normal, but their squabbling was starting to get heated.

“Er—” he broke in, “—why all boys?”

“Oh, that’s part of the Curse,” said Ginny. “It goes ‘You will be faithful in love, and be blessed with many sons.’  It doesn’t say anything about daughters.  That’s why I only have the one girl cousin.”

Harry started to answer, but just then a resounding explosion rocked the house.  Harry jumped to his feet and pulled out his wand, as did Hermione, but Ron and Ginny rolled their eyes and shrugged.

“Fred and George,” they said together.  Mrs. Weasley’s voice could now be heard above.

“LOOK at this room!  How many times have I told you to knock it off with the Wheezes?  I’ll tell you one thing – if I hear ONE MORE explosion from you this summer, you can just FORGET about the special Apparating lessons!  If you think you can just – ”

“Sorry, Mum.”

“We’ll clean it up, Mum.”

“It won’t happen again – honest!”

“You’d better see that it doesn’t!  I don’t know WHERE you’re getting the money to buy all this, this RUBBISH, but I give you my word of honour – one more mess like this and it all goes, do you hear me?  I’ll confiscate every bit of nonsense if I have to search your room all night!  Do you realize this is your last chance to straighten up and do well on your NEWTS?  At the rate you two are going…”  Mrs. Weasley’s voice became indistinguishable as she calmed down.  Soon her emphatic steps could be heard descending the stairs, and they could hear the low rumble of Mr. Weasley’s voice responding to her shriller tones.  Ron turned to Ginny and lowered his voice.

“They’ve got most of their stuff hidden in the stone wall behind the garden anyway.  Was that the Bat Blaster?  I don’t think they’re going to have a lot of sales for that one.”

“They’re really cool when they work,” said Ginny earnestly.  “You let them go, and they flutter about 20 feet into the air before they explode – they’re great.”

*

The next day’s lessons went well.  They learned to Apparate to any place they could see on the field with fair precision.  They got as far as popping from the Quidditch meadow down to the back garden, from the garden into the house, and from the house back up to the Quidditch field.  Lupin told them they were doing great and they were ahead of the schedule he had set.  They were very sorry to see Lupin leave that evening – as soon as he left they had to stop Apparating.

They ate the evening meal inside this time, the nine of them squeezed around the square wooden table in the kitchen.   Just as they got to dessert, two owls came in with mail for Hermione.  The first one was a strange owl.  Ron stared at it suspiciously, but it proved to be carrying a letter from Hermione’s parents, not Viktor Krum.  The second was a Hogwarts owl, carrying a distinctive green-inked Hogwarts letter.

“Congratulations, Hermione, you’re a prefect!” said Fred as soon as he caught sight of the envelope.  Hermione blushed.

“Oh, really – it could be anything.  Wait ’til I open it, at least!”  Ron made a derisive sound with his lips.

“Like it could be anything else – I’ve been wondering where your prefect letter was.”

Hermione opened the letter and failed to suppress her smile as a silver badge fell out into her hand.  Mrs. Weasley leaned over to her.

“Are you a prefect, dear?  Oh, wonderful!”  Percy shook hands with her very earnestly.

“It’s quite an honour to be made prefect in your fifth year,” he said.  “Not many people do that, and it’s a good start for being Head Girl in two years.” 

Everyone at the table was perfectly aware that Percy had been made a prefect in his fifth year and been Head Boy.  But Harry knew that what he said was true.  Most prefects were chosen from the sixth-year students; if a fifth-year was chosen, it meant the professors had confidence that the student had the strength of character to exercise authority over older sixth- and seventh-year students.

“Congratulations, Hermione,” said Harry seriously.  “I’m not surprised, but I am very proud of you.”

Mrs. Weasley insisted on getting out the elderflower wine, and they all toasted Hermione’s success.  Fred and George expressed a pious hope that she would be “tough but fair” and Ginny urged Hermione to take house points from Malfoy the next time he called her a filthy name.

“Well, that might not work too well,” said Hermione reluctantly.  She was now looking at the second page of her letter.  “There’s a list of all the new prefects here, and –”  Ron and Harry groaned in unison.

“Not Malfoy?” they asked.  But it was no use.  Draco Malfoy was indeed among the new prefects listed, as was Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, and (Harry was interested to note) Cho Chang from Ravenclaw among several other sixth-years.

“How can they do that?”  Ginny was indignant.  “Isn’t it obvious he’ll be unfair and favour his own house?  He’s such a sneaky, slimy little – junior Death Eater.”

Harry and Ron were in full agreement with Ginny, but Hermione said, “I’m sure Malfoy and his friends feel the same way about me.  I’m sure they think I’ll let you two” – she nodded at Harry and Ron – “get away with murder.”  She took a calm sip of her wine.  “But I won’t, of course.  I expect I’ll have to be especially strict on you just to make sure.”  She laughed at the incensed expression on Ron’s face and continued.  “Really, I’m not surprised by Malfoy.  Snape would never let two other Heads of Houses name a fifth-year without him naming one too, and whom else was he going to choose?  Malfoy’s grades are by far the highest of his year in Slytherin and his disciplinary record is cleaner than mine.”

Ron shook his head as if he didn’t trust himself to speak, but his eyes promised Hermione that he would have much to say on that “especially strict” comment when his Mum wasn’t around.

Harry was trying to calculate if Hermione’s comment about her disciplinary record could possibly be true.  Yes, there was the fifty points each he and she had lost the night they took Norbert the dragon up to the Astronomy Tower, and Snape had insisted on adding an “out of school bounds” notation to their records for the night he’d found them in the Shrieking Shack, though they had not lost points or gotten detentions.  But Malfoy had lost twenty points the night of Norbert, and he’d helped lose fifty points by dressing as a Dementor at one of Harry’s Quidditch games.  Then Harry remembered the steady stream of five and ten points at a time lost by Hermione in Snape’s class for “being a know-it-all” or helping Neville too much or failing to help Neville enough.  If Snape’s malice were to keep Hermione from having her rightful chance to be Head Girl, Harry would – anyway, it was another reason to hate him. 

Harry had another thought – If Hermione’s disciplinary record was worse than Malfoy’s, he shuddered to think what his and Ron’s would be like.  Well, Ron definitely didn’t want to be a prefect anyway, and Harry supposed he didn’t either.  Though my Mum and Dad both were.  Maybe they would have wanted me to be one.

Harry looked up.  Hermione was asking to be excused so she could read her letter from her parents in private.  Naturally, Mrs. Weasley agreed.  Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins decided to practice Quidditch.  However, when Ginny went up to her room to get her broom, she came back down looking perturbed.

“Hermione’s locked the door of my room, and I think she’s crying.  She didn’t answer when I knocked, but I wondered if maybe you two” – she looked from Harry to Ron – “should talk to her.”

Harry and Ron raced up the steps.  What if the letter had bad news from Hermione’s parents? What could have happened?  With his long legs, Ron got to the landing before Harry.  He knocked impatiently on the door.

“Hermione, are you okay?  Hermione!  Let us in!  Hermione, what’s wrong?”  Ron was making too much noise with his knocking and calling for them to hear if Hermione answered, but before Harry could shut him up, Hermione opened the door.

“Come in,” she said.  Her eyes were red and she was blowing her nose into a handkerchief.  “It’s nothing – I’m just being stupid.”  Harry walked into the room behind Ron, feeling awkward and helpless.  He never knew what to do when girls cried.  Harry could tell from Ron’s movements that he felt the same.

“Did you hear something bad from your parents?” asked Ron.

“No,” said Hermione with a stifled sob.  “They’re fine.  I mean, they’re pretending to be fine.  Actually they’re confused and lonely and scared stiff for me.  I was just – well, I’d always hoped to be a prefect, and I’d imagined the letter coming to my house, and my parents would be there, and now everything is – I told you I was being stupid.”  Hermione sat down on the edge of Ginny’s bed and Ron stood over her looking frustrated.  Harry paced the room in sudden anger.

“It’s all my fault,” he burst out.  “Every single bit of it.  None of this would have happened to you if it weren’t for me.  You would’ve got your prefect letter in your own house with your own parents, and you would have lost a lot fewer house points, too.  And you wouldn’t be in danger…”

“Bollocks, Harry!”  Harry turned and gaped at this interruption.  Hermione never used bad language.  She tossed her bushy hair behind her shoulder and continued.  “Could you possibly be more self-centred?  You really do think it’s all about you, don’t you?”

Harry glared at Hermione, and set his jaw, but she continued.

“You might as well say we both screwed up by becoming friends with Ron, a member of the dreaded Weasley family.”

Harry stared at Hermione with his mouth open; Ron, too, was goggling at her.

“Well, think about it, Harry!  We were all in danger in our first year, true, but did it have anything to do with you?  Only because we all figured out what was going on.  Voldemort wasn’t in Hogwarts to get you.  He was there because Quirrell had blundered into him, and Quirrell was a teacher there, and because the Philosopher’s Stone was there.  None of which had even the slightest thing to do with you.”

“And our second year – what was going on there?”  Hermione stood up and paced as she talked.  “Lucius Malfoy had a plot to kill ‘Mudbloods’ – that’s me – and to embarrass the Weasley family by giving the book to Ginny – that’s Ron.  Your contribution was to kill the monster, and Tom Riddle, and save us all.  Same for third year.  Who was Sirius Black after?  Not you, was it?  It was Scabbers, pet of the dreaded Weasley family again.  Too bad you had to get involved with them.

It was hard to interrupt Hermione when she was in the full flow of lecture mode, but Harry made the attempt.  He found that he was quite angry.

“What about fourth year, Hermione?  Was that not about me, either?”

“No, that was about you, Harry, but neither Ron nor I was in the slightest bit of danger.  Poor Cedric happened to stumble into the line of fire, but we didn’t.”

“And I suppose your house being burned had nothing to do with me,” said Harry coldly.  “It just happened to be on my birthday and they just randomly sent me a photo of it.”

“No,” said Hermione quite calmly.  Harry found her calm made him even angrier.  “Of course that was aimed at you.  But not just at you.  Even if I had never met you, the Death Eaters would still have targeted me.  I’m Muggle-born, and I’m first in my class at school, and I once hit Draco Malfoy, remember?  And I hope you don’t think that had anything to do with you.  It was about Hagrid, if I remember correctly.”

Harry glared at Hermione, but found nothing to say.  She went on.

“Even if you’d never existed, Draco Malfoy at least would hate my guts.  Do either of you know where he is in our class standings?  Second, that’s where!  If it weren’t for me, he would be top of the class.  Do you think he doesn’t care about that?  I can tell you, he cares.”

Harry found his quick-flaring anger fading away.  It was partly astonishment at the unwelcome idea of Malfoy as top of their class, and partly the sight of Ron, looking in shock from Harry to Hermione, as if he’d never seen the two of them fight.  He hasn’t, because we’ve never done it.  He tried to reason with Hermione.

“Hermione, I haven’t mentioned this before, but” – Harry hesitated and looked nervously at Ron – “well, I figure that one of the reasons they chose your house to burn down is because they” – he really hated to say this in front of Ron – “they-think-you’re-my-girlfriend.  Probably because of Skeeter’s articles, or whatever…”  He felt himself trail off in embarrassment.

Hermione was nodding.  “Yes, I know, but there’s nothing I can do about that, Harry.  You’re going to have to.”

“But” – Harry could feel that he was flushing – “I’ve already told everyone I can that it’s not true.  Not that they believe me,” he added bitterly, remembering Professors McGonagall, Sinistra, and Weasley.  “But if you, you know, were going out with someone else” – Harry was careful not to look at Ron or indicate him in any way – “well, they’d have to believe me then.”

“No, they wouldn’t, Harry.”  Hermione sounded bitter, too.  “I’ve already tried that, remember?  Krum?  It just turned me into a ‘scarlet woman.’”  Hermione was even redder than Harry, and was not looking at Ron even harder than Harry was not looking at him.  Harry didn’t know how Ron looked, of course, since he wasn’t looking at him.  “But if you went out with someone else, that would solve everything.”

“Right!”  Harry could feel himself redden again, in anger this time.  “Get you off the hook, and get some other girl onto it.  No thanks!  Not that there’s anyone” – Harry felt himself flounder into incoherency.  Cho?  Not bloody likely now!

“Oh, yeah,” Hermione said, looking a bit embarrassed.  “I guess that would be bad.  I know!” she said brightly.  “You can go out with lots of different girls.”

While Harry was speechless, trying unsuccessfully to imagine himself as someone who went out with “lots of different girls,” rather than with no girls at all, Ron gave a surprising shout of laughter.

“I’ve got it, Harry!  All you have to do is pick some horrible Death Eater Debutante and go out with her.  It would confuse them, and they can’t threaten one of their own.  How about Tamara Nott?  Or Millicent Bulstrode, if you like her better!”  Harry and Hermione both turned to glare at Ron.  “Hey, it was just a suggestion!”

Ginny, tapping cautiously on the door a few minutes later, was surprised to find the three of them in gales of laughter.

*  *  *

Next Chapter:  Lupin Lodge

In which we meet Otto the Owl and discover some details of Remus Lupin’s past.