Replay

Replay

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Chapter Seventeen

Departures and Arrivals

Harry looked around the front hall of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Everything was as he remembered, including--

"IT'S THAT HALF-BLOODED TRAITOR TO WIZARD KIND AGAIN, SULLYING THE HOUSE OF MY FATHERS...."

The other portraits starting moaning and complaining about the noise, just as Harry remembered them doing before. He wished they'd be quiet so he could let someone know he'd arrived. But then he realised that he didn't know what to say and he suddenly wished he'd come to London by some slower method than a Portkey.

Mrs Black's screaming was making his head throb again, just when he'd started to feel the pain from Voldemort dissipating. However, even above her noise he could hear a conversation drifting down from the upper reaches of the house.

"Hurry up! She's gone off again. He might be in the hall," Ginny was saying breathlessly.

"I'm going as fast as I can! Wounded here, remember?" Ron snapped.

"Well how was I supposed to know he'd react that way? When's the last time anyone fed him, anyway?" Hermione said imperiously.

"Wasn't it your turn this morning, Ron?" Ginny sounded like she knew the answer.

"I was getting around to it! He didn't have to take my arm off!" Ron whinged.

"Stop being a big baby! It's just your hand." Hermione was the one being snappish now.

"Well, it is rather a lot of blood," Ginny said, sounding concerned.

What've they been doing? Harry wondered as their footsteps drew nearer. It sounded like they were only one flight above him now.

"Thank you, Ginny!" Ron said, as though her comment vindicated him. "I tell you, I am through with Care of Magical Creatures! I get an infected hand from a baby dragon, I get lured into the forest by Hagrid and end up attacked by giant spiders--"

"Both of those things happened before you ever took Care of Magical Creatures," Hermione reminded him helpfully.

"--and then there were the bloody Skrewts and those nasty tree-branch things--" he went on, ignoring her.

"Bowtruckles," Ginny and Hermione said in unison, making Harry smile. He hadn't thought anything could make him smile again, but it was oddly comforting to hear his friends bickering as they came down the stairs. During the previous year he thought he'd go mad listening to them; now it was the most welcome sound in the world. Except--they would want to know what happened. Which brought him back to what he would say to them. He sobered, thinking of Moody. And Snape and Percy.

And Tilda.

"Harry!"

He looked up, trying to find some words, but he had no time to think. They ran toward him while he scrambled awkwardly to his feet and then Hermione's hair was in his face as she hugged him and Ron slapped his shoulder with his right hand, his left hand held awkwardly before his chest, wrapped in a very bloody cloth.

"AND HERE COME THE BLOOD TRAITORS AND THE MUDBLOOD---"

"What happened to you?" Harry shouted at Ron over Mrs Black's diatribe, nodding at the damp, dark red makeshift bandage.

"Oh, sod that," Ron exclaimed, even though he'd been whinging about it a few minutes earlier. "What about you? How'd you get here? Where's everyone else?"

"We should have realised it was you! Mrs Black doesn't go on about half-bloods much. Is everyone who came to get you all right?" Ginny wanted to know, biting her lip.

"Yes, where are the others?" Hermione asked, her voice squeaking.

Harry looked helplessly at each one of them, at a complete loss for where to start. "I, erm, I don't know about everyone. But--don't you think we should take care of Ron's hand? What've you been doing?"

"Buckbeak. Tried to use my hand for a snack. In all of the excitement, we--"

"--you mean you--" Hermione interrupted.

"--forgot to feed him," Ron finished sheepishly.

Harry frowned as they made their way to the kitchen stairs. "So why'd you go upstairs without food?"

"Ron and Hermione heard the front door open and close. We were searching the house for an intruder," Ginny told him.

Harry was torn with being surprised at this or surprised that as they passed Mrs Black she mysteriously stopped shouting. The hall seemed very quiet suddenly. "An intruder!" he exclaimed, deciding that he didn't care about Mrs Black. "But wouldn't that have to be someone in the Order of the Phoenix? Are you saying there's a traitor in the Order?" he gasped as they all stumbled into the kitchen.

"Kreacher!" Ron spat between gritted teeth. "We were looking for Kreacher. He can still come and go as he pleases, as far as we know." Ron sat in a chair by the fire and Ginny went to get the first aid kit. Harry sat in the other chair by the hearth while Hermione began to unwrap the bloody cloth from Ron's hand. Ron let out a string of expletives directed at Kreacher, as though he were present, and Harry was amazed that Hermione made no response but a slight tightening of the corners of her mouth as she continued to unwind the blood-stained material.

In a way, Harry was glad they had something to distract themselves with. Ginny explained Ron's theory about Kreacher while she cleaned Ron's wound and applied Able Abel's No-Scar Salve to it; Hermione was silent, however, as she wound a clean bandage around his hand and Ginny and Ron took turns telling him about Draco Malfoy attacking them while they were playing Quidditch at the Burrow. When Ron was properly bandaged, however, the three of them looked at him expectantly, and he knew he couldn't put off telling them what happened any longer.

"Harry! There you are!" a voice suddenly said from the fire. Harry turned his chair in surprise. Fred and George Weasley's heads were sitting in the flames.

"Is everyone there, Fred? Did they all get back to the shop all right?" Ginny said anxiously, kneeling on the hearth.

Fred looked at George. "I think we should let Mum and Dad tell you about that."

"We just got everyone out of the fire from Surrey. Couldn't talk earlier," George added.

"Remus is handing chocolate round to everybody," Fred said. "Have any yet, Harry?"

Harry shook his head, swallowing, remembering the Dementors.... George reached his hand out from the fire, holding some chocolate, which Harry took gratefully, but just as he was about to bite into it, Ginny knocked it from his hand. "Ginny! I was about to eat--!"

"Yes, and you were also about to turn into a chicken," she said, glowering at the twins. She picked up the chocolate and pointed out the alternating squares stamped with three entwined W's; the others had a raised design that looked like a rooster's head.

"Aw, Ginny! We still need to test our Chick'N Chocolates on other people before we put them out in the shop. Just because you didn't want to help test them...."

Fred groaned. "I've had so much I wanted chicken feed for my tea tonight."

"I hope you haven't been giving Chick'N Chocolates to any members of the Order!" Hermione said, scandalised.

"Only those who wanted to give it a go. We have the boring stuff, too," George said, handing Harry some chocolate in a Honeydukes wrapper. Hermione snatched it from his hand and turned it over and over, inspecting it, before she would let Harry have it.

"Dumbledore wanted to try ours," Fred said brightly. "He was quite keen, actually."

"Our best customer since we opened the shop," George added, winking at his twin.

"So when are they coming?" Ginny wanted to know, accepting a piece of chocolate from Harry when he offered it to her; Ron was already chewing what looked like a mouthful.

"Mum and Dad should be there soon. Lupin and McGonagall as well," Fred said. "Mum and Dad were waiting here with us to help the survivors when they got back--"

"Survivors!" Hermione exclaimed. "So--so there were some who--who didn't--"

"Get a grip, Hermione," George said. "It's just an expression." At a glance from his twin, he added, "Well, mostly. Anyway, Dumbledore will be along as soon as he's finished moulting. I think. Can't remember now what he said he was going to do next before he started crowing. He might be going off to the Ministry first. Tonks and the other Auror who went had to go report, so she won't be at the meeting until later."

"We'll be coming after we've put the shop back in order." Fred told them. "Shouldn't be long, though."

"Yeah," George added, nodding at Ron's hand. "Try not to maim yourself 'til then, Ron."

Ron made a face at him, but the fire was already empty. Hermione turned to Harry in alarm. "Wait a minute... Remus wouldn't have been handing out chocolate unless--"

Harry nodded miserably. "There were Dementors there. More than I've ever seen--"

"Blimey," Ron breathed. "Must have been all of them from Azkaban--"

Hermione nodded. "They couldn't have had all of them--or even half--guarding the entrances to Hogwarts in our third year. That wouldn't have left enough at the prison...."

"It was at least three or four times that many," Harry said quietly, holding what was left of the chocolate. He broke off another square, putting it in his mouth slowly.

"Harry, I think you should have the rest of the chocolate," Ginny said, looking quite pale. "You obviously need it more than we do."

Ron was looking longingly at the chocolate, but after Ginny poked his leg with her elbow he said, "Erm, right. I didn't want any more anyway."

The door to the kitchen burst open suddenly and Mr and Mrs Weasley entered, followed swiftly by Remus Lupin, Professor McGonagall, Mundungus Fletcher and Bill Weasley. Mrs Weasley exclaimed over Harry when she saw him, hugging him and giving him a kiss on each cheek, but McGonagall still wouldn't look at him and Remus looked very sad when he met Harry's eye. Sad and something else. Disappointed.

Harry turned to Mundungus and Bill in surprise. "Fred and George didn't mention you waiting at the shop with them."

"That's because we weren't. We were right there in Surrey."

"But--but I didn't see you," Harry sputtered in confusion. "Were you hiding?"

Bill grinned. "Yeah, right behind Rodolphus Lestrange's face."

"And Lucius Malfoy's," Dung added with a small bow.

"That was you?" Harry gasped. Ron had been released from a bone-crushing hug from his mother and was gaping at him now.

"There wasn't anything in the Prophet about Malfoy escaping from Azkaban!"

"No," Remus said, glaring at Mundungus; Harry had a feeling that this was supposed to be reserved for the meeting, but the cat was out of the bag now. "It was just a matter of time, though, without Dementors there. Kingsley and Tonks can tell you about it when you see them. The Ministry is having to use so many Aurors at Azkaban now, Fudge was only too happy to let this be an operation for the Order, except for two token Aurors. One of whom is also a member of the Order, but the Ministry don't know that, of course."

"But--but--" Ron stuttered; "those Death Eaters who were released by the Ministry--"

Remus shook his head, smiling. "None of them were actually released. They--and Lucius Malfoy--were moved temporarily to the Hogwarts dungeons, in a very secure wing, and the Ministry claimed they were released. They'll be back in Ministry custody before the new term, of course. There were people in the Ministry we didn't strictly trust, you see, so after Dumbledore arranged it with Fudge this prevented them--well, I might as well say Umbridge--from knowing where they really were. Not that Dumbledore was stupid enough to tell Fudge he suspected Umbridge. He just asked him not to tell anyone else in the Ministry that it was a ruse. Members of the Order have been impersonating the supposedly-released Death Eaters."

"Like me," Bill said, starting to smile, but then turning a little green. "Oy--Remus--have some more chocolate on you?"

Remus took out another Honeydukes bar; when Bill had taken a little Mundungus pounced on the rest. Harry dropped his jaw now. "Wait--you were almost Kissed by a Dementor!" Dung nodded, his mouth full of chocolate. Harry turned to Bill now. "And you--you disappeared. But you're all right now. And Snape... what happened?"

Bill chewed and swallowed. "We were Transfigured. Into rocks. Rather a shock to find everything over when we were changed back again. But I reckon it's a good thing. 'The Dark Lord,' as Snape calls him, would have taken care of us next, probably...."

Harry frowned. "Why?"

"Our cover was blown." He was about to ask how he knew this, but then he remembered: Percy. Percy had come to warn them that they were no longer safely undercover. He'd sounded like he'd been spying as well, and he'd said something about Umbridge, which somehow didn't come as a shock.... "Didn't you hear--?"

"Yeah, I heard what Percy said," Harry said softly. Considering that he'd probably saved Snape's and Bill's lives by warning them and Transfiguring them he felt like it wasn't the best time to blame Moody's death on him. And Moody had been struggling during the duel. But it was still difficult not to blame Percy.

"Wait a minute--Percy?" Ron gasped. "That git?"

"Dumbledore's most valuable spy during this last year," Mrs Weasley interjected hotly, looking both very proud and like she was about to cry. She nodded at Harry. "He's the one got Dumbledore to the Ministry last year for your hearing, just in time." Hermione and Ginny also looked shocked.

"Do the twins know?" Ginny asked her mother, her eyes round.

"Yes, of course they know. Now. He's still at the shop with them." She smiled, even though tears were rolling down her cheeks. "Percy was telling them about his work during the last year and they were laughing together and--I've never seen them get along so--" She gave a great sniff and took out a handkerchief, dabbing at her eyes. "He had a very close call tonight, you see. Dolores Umbridge started out interrogating him, but he ended up interrogating her. Except that Fudge interrupted and didn't believe Percy when he said she'd confessed to being a Death Eater. He stunned Percy and then my boy had to escape from the spell-damage ward at St Mungo's!" she exclaimed. "He went to Surrey, to warn Professor Snape and your brother..."

Harry tried not to sound like he was accusing Percy of anything when he said, "I guess that's what distracted Moody during the duel--"

"Moody!" Ron and Hermione said in unison. Ginny looked saddened and horrified.

Professor McGonagall finally looked at him, very sternly. "Don't blame Percy Weasley, Potter. I did not see what happened, but Alastor Moody was trained to notice whether someone new was Apparating into a battle. He was going to take a look to see whether the new arrival was friend or foe, wasn't he? He probably thought he was protecting you, or someone else. Alastor Moody wasn't distracted, Potter. He was doing his job. It was just--too difficult a job at that point...."

Harry looked down at his feet, then up at her, swallowing. "Sorry. I--I didn't mean to--"

"Is anyone else--?" Ron interrupted. Remus shook his head; he understood the question..

"No. But you lot should get upstairs. Dumbledore will be arriving and we'll be starting the meeting. We have a lot to talk about. Members of the Order whose cover is blown, what to do about the Dementors, working out where Voldemort is going to strike next, now that Harry's safely back here again--"

"--how to keep Kreacher out of Headquarters," Ron added with a growl.

Mrs Weasley looked startled. "What?"

"Kreacher. He was here," Ron told her.

Her mouth went very thin. "Oh, dear. Yes, well, we certainly will discuss that...."

Fred and George entered with Dumbledore and Percy, who looked rather sheepishly at them all. Oddly enough, Hermione walked up to him and gave him a hug, which he returned awkwardly. Ron's ears were a bit red and Percy looked at her with surprise.

"Welcome back," Hermione said. Percy looked shyly at them all, then met Harry's eye.

"All right, Harry?" His voice shook a little and sounded quite scratchy.

Harry released the resentment he'd been harbouring since he'd decided that Percy had caused Moody's death. He nodded at him and said, "All right, Percy."

Mrs Weasley was clucking over him. "Listen to that voice! Are you coming down with a cold? Or have you been drinking Firewhiskey?" She shook her head. "I knew it! Living in your own flat, no one to answer to...."

Percy laughed and said huskily, "I wish it was from Firewhiskey, or a cold. I'll tell you in a minute. I'd love a cup of tea...."

Harry caught Dumbledore's eye and he sidled next to him while the others moved with Percy to the long kitchen table. "Can I talk to you for a minute, sir? Before I'm kicked out for the meeting?"

"Of course, Harry," he replied, looking at him for only a moment before gently taking his arm and leading him out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the front hall. "But let us speak quietly...." He motioned with his head toward Mrs Black's curtained painting.

Harry nodded. "I was wondering, sir--is Tilda--Miss Harrison--is she all right?"

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment. Then he replied, "Professor Snape is seeing to her. She is having her memory modified...."

Harry's eyes widened. "How much? I mean--she just reconciled with her mum today. I don't care if she doesn't remember me, but she was going to Australia..."

Dumbledore nodded, holding up his hand. "Yes, yes, she will still remember that. Remus Lupin stunned her, you see, because he didn't want her to see anything that might transpire if a confrontation should occur, which it did, of course...."

"What happened, though? Was she also Transfigured into a rock, like Snape and Bill?"

Dumbledore looked startled. "Who told you about--?"

"Bill told us. I reckon Percy did it...."

Dumbledore looked grim. "It is not the time to get into details of that sort...."

"So she's really all right?"

Dumbledore hesitated again. "She is perfectly safe, Harry. But you should not contact her. If she is going to leave the country for a while, that sounds like a very good thing..."

Harry wasn't sure he believed him. He sounded like he was hiding something. Harry was tired of having things hidden from him, but he didn't want to shout and have to compete with Mrs Black. Instead Harry looked at him suspiciously. Dumbledore looked away, which annoyed Harry. I thought we were done with that.

"Ah," Dumbledore said brightly as Ron, Hermione and Ginny ascended the stairs toward them; "here come the others. We should start the meeting."

"What about Snape?" Harry wondered what he was really doing at Tilda's. He hoped he wouldn't get rid of a fortnight of her memories. If she was all right....

"Professor Snape should be arriving shortly," Dumbledore said, still not looking at Harry. Hermione, Ron and Ginny mumbled good night to Dumbledore and went past the two of them, up to the bedrooms. "Good night, Mr Weasley, Miss Weasley, Miss Granger." Harry watched them go. "And good night, Harry," he said at last.

"Wait--I just remembered! What about that poor Muggle who was killed--?"

Oddly enough, Dumbledore turned and looked at him again, straight in the eye. "Yes, yes... I've already had Remus looking into that. Very odd, very odd indeed...."

"What's very odd?" Harry wanted to know. "There was a man across the street with his dog and he was killed by Voldemort. Didn't he have any identification?"

"He didn't have any--" Dumbledore stopped abruptly. "Harry. It isn't the time. You should concern yourself with sleep. I said Remus is looking into it. He will continue."

"But he died because of me! And so did Moody!" Harry exclaimed. "And before this Moody lived for almost an entire year in his own trunk because of me!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, you cannot claim responsibility for everything Voldemort and his Death Eaters do. We will have other opportunities to speak. I must get down to the meeting and you should get to bed," he said with finality, descending the stairs. Before he closed the door, he looked up at Harry and said, "Oh, I almost forgot, Harry. Happy Birthday." The door closed with a loud thunk and Harry was left standing in the hall, alone amongst the flickering gas lamps, hissing like snakes upon the high, dark walls.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days after returning from Surrey Harry yawned and rose from the kitchen table after eating breakfast, feeling aimless. After staying in Tilda's house for a fortnight, pretending he didn't exist for much of the time, it was very strange to be able to talk to other people and not have to wear his Invisibility Cloak, hush his voice, or avoid walking in front of windows. He didn't quite know what to do with himself and wasn't especially keen to be alone, but they all seemed to think he wanted to be alone quite a lot, and so he was. Unfortunately, this made it rather difficult for him not to think about what had almost happened with Tilda. He hoped she really was all right, visiting her mother....

He decided to seek out Ron and Hermione to find out whether there was any news about Voldemort or the Death Eaters. He climbed the kitchen stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. When he reached the front hall, Ginny was standing at the drawing room door. In the gloom, he could see that she was using Extendable Ears to listen through the door. When she saw Harry, she coloured and put them behind her back, looking very guilty.

"Hi, Ginny," he said in a whisper. "An Order meeting? Isn't it a bit risky to be listening right out here? Your mum will probably come when she's done the washing up."

Ginny bit her lip and glanced at the door. "No, it's not an Order meeting." She stepped away from the drawing room, shoving the Extendable Ears into her pockets. She was wearing Muggle clothes, a simple denim skirt and white blouse, and the Ears didn't really fit into her pockets but made her hips bulge in a rather unflattering fashion. When she looked down and realized this, she swore and took them out of her pockets again.

"I can take them," Harry said. "They'll make my pockets bulge too, but no one'll be able to tell under this old shirt of Dudley's." Snape had arrived the previous morning with all of Harry's clothes and school supplies, including his broom. Luckily, Harry hadn't had to see him. But sure enough, once the Ears were in his pockets and his shirt pulled down again, it was impossible to tell they were there.

"Thanks," she started to say, but Harry interrupted her.

"So if it isn't an Order meeting," he said, no longer whispering, "what is it?"

Ginny hushed him and pulled him away from the door, then thought better of that. She jerked her head at the stairs and he nodded, following her up, wondering just what was going on in the drawing room.

Halfway up the stairs, Ginny turned around furtively and glanced at the closed door before turning to Harry again. "It's Ron and Hermione," she whispered.

Harry frowned. "So? I was looking for them. I wanted to find out whether--"

"Sssh!" Ginny said quickly, looking at the door again.

"What?" Harry stared at her; she was being very queer.

"Can't you guess?" She rolled her eyes.

He was feeling a bit insulted by the eye-roll and tried to wrack his brain for what could be going on in the closed drawing room between Ron and Hermione...

Opening his eyes wide as he realized, he saw her grinning broadly at him. "Not that it's cut down on their fighting. I think they like having rows. And of course, after a row, there's always the making up..."

"So--so you were listening to them--"

She turned deep red. "Don't tell them. They already caught me once. When I was a first year, I thought Percy was going to hex me when I stumbled on him and his girlfriend...."

Harry frowned. "Well, wanting a little privacy is one thing, but hexing someone is going a bit far, isn't it? Even when I thought he was a--well, anyway, I can't see Percy doing that, or his girlfriend, just because someone caught them kissing." Ginny turned an even deeper shade of red. Harry dropped his jaw. "Percy and that girl... they were just kissing, weren't they?"

Ginny cleared her throat. "I reckon they could have been. If having your trousers down around your ankles is necessary for kissing..."

Harry laughed loudly--too loudly--and Ginny put her hand over his mouth, her eyes large and apprehensive. "They'll bloody hear you!" she hissed at him.

Stifling his laughter, he took her hand from his mouth and she let him. "Sorry," he whispered again. "I thought it was hard enough thinking of Percy as a spy, but I'm having an even harder time thinking of Percy and a girl doing more than kissing--" He was starting to feel depressed again, though, thinking about Percy, who had had to leave the country. He was going to be travelling about now, trying to get wizards in other countries on their side, as Charlie had also been doing. Percy's contacts from his year working in International Magical Co-operation would probably prove useful. Mrs Weasley had been heartbroken about having to say goodbye to him again.

Ginny giggled, not knowing what he was thinking about. "You know, I didn't even notice that his trousers were around his ankles, because of his robes. I didn't even think about it for over a year, and then it was Percy himself who brought it up. Said he'd forgiven me for catching him with his guard down--" They both guffawed; Harry was starting to feel better again. "--and was glad I hadn't said anything about it and gave him a chance to zip up. I never even noticed that he had to zip up after I discovered them together. If he hadn't said that I'd have gone on thinking it was just kissing. After all, Penelope had only taken her robe and shoes off."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "The last I heard it wasn't necessary to take off your shoes to kiss."

She continued to shake slightly as she laughed quietly, looking furtively at the door again. When she looked back at Harry, she had a mischievous light in her eye. "So--do you want to use the Ears to listen? Mind you, a lot of the time they're actually doing revision."

He wavered for only a moment before nodding, unable to quell his curiosity. He knew Ron and Hermione would be livid if they knew, but it was impossible to resist the urge to snoop. He crept toward the door with Ginny, taking the Extendable Ears out of his pockets and putting one to his right ear, handing the other to Ginny so that she could use it. She nodded in thanks and the two of them could soon hear everything on the other side of the door. It didn't sound like revision, but he still couldn't place the noise.

Harry frowned. "What is that?" he mouthed at her, afraid to make any noise.

She raised an eyebrow. "Kissing When they're doing revision it's noisier. Pages turning."

"Oh," he said blankly. "It is a lot quieter than I expected. At least he's not like Davies. It isn't all wet and squelchy-sounding." He was glad that he didn't know whether he had made noise while kissing Tilda.

"Oh," she said, with a mock-sad expression. "So you didn't like kissing Roger Davies--"

He laughed in spite of himself, then covered his mouth with his own hand. "You're going to make me make too much noise!"

Her eyes were merry. "I've heard about Davies. Luna says girls who date him should wear towels around their necks, to catch the drool."

Harry was trying very hard not to laugh. "We'd better get out of here, I think," he said, taking the Extendable Ear from his own ear. "In a minute I'm going to start laughing and won't be able to stop, and then they'll know what we've been doing."

Ginny shrugged and followed him up the stairs. "It's not very interesting, anyway, but listening to other people kissing is still more interesting than being one of the people involved. I found kissing to be rather a bore, personally."

They passed the heads of Kreacher's house elf ancestors and walked down the upstairs corridor to Harry's room; Harry turned for a moment to look at her. It was very hard for him to not think about Tilda again. "So you didn't much like kissing Michael Corner?"

She shook her head as he opened the door. "Not really. I kept trying to find ways to get the time to pass more quickly, but with no luck. And once when he caught me checking my watch, we had a bit of a row about that. Your eyes are supposed to be closed, you're supposed to be focussed on me, blah blah blah. You'd think I was reading Quidditch Monthly over his shoulder to hear him tell it. What is there to pay attention to? Once you're all right with where the noses are it's just a lot of breathing into each other's mouths. I can think of better ways to spend my time...."

She threw herself onto Ron's bed and Harry sat on his own bed. "Well, Cho spent most of the time crying all over me about Cedric. I don't think Michael Corner will think much of her technique. Perhaps she should have accepted Davies when he asked her out. They both seem to like a lot of wetness."

"Ha!" Ginny said loudly, before covering her mouth, looking guilty. Harry laughed too.

"It's okay. We're upstairs now. You don't have to be as quiet."

"That's right. It's just--a funny image. Davies drooling on Cho, Cho bawling on him...."

Harry remembered what Ginny had said about Luna's comment concerning Davies. "Has Luna been out with Davies?" For some reason, the idea of her doing this bothered him.

Ginny looked at him as though he should know better. "Of course Luna hasn't been out with Davies. First--he thinks she's a nutter. Second--she fancies someone else."

"Oh," he said, wondering why his chest suddenly felt tight. He remembered Luna looking for her belongings before they were going to leave the school for the summer. But in his memory, for some reason, he saw Tilda telling him that her things usually turned up, not to worry... He shook his head to clear it, looking up at Ginny again.

"So. I can keep a secret. Who's she fancy?"

"You're serious, aren't you? You couldn't tell?"

Harry swallowed, torn between hoping she was going to say his name and hoping she wouldn't. Since when do I fancy Luna Lovegood? he asked himself. But for some reason, every time he tried to picture Luna's face, he saw Tilda's in his mind's eye.

"Well, she--she sometimes--"

"Sometimes? You didn't notice the way she was about Ron?"

He was jolted for a moment. "Erm--Ron?"

Ginny frowned at him. "Yes, Ron. Could she have been much more obvious? The Gryffindor lion hat? And singing that horrid song day and night! Why do you think Hermione doesn't like her much?"

"Well, Hermione worked with her and Rita to get my interview into the Quibbler..."

"Exactly. She did that, and you know how she feels about Rita. That's how Hermione is. She'd work with the devil himself to get something necessary done. If there's important work, it doesn't matter who the other person is. But she really doesn't like Luna either. It's a bit awkward for me sometimes. They're both my friends. Luna's always asking me questions about Ron--she's been writing me regular letters--and it's been even more difficult for me to answer her letters since Ron and Hermione finally stopped dancing around the issue of the two of them--"

"How did that happen?" Harry wanted to know, swallowing. He didn't think he wanted to hear more about both Luna and Hermione fancying Ron. For some reason, hearing about Luna fancying Ron--which he did probably know if he'd given it any thought--made him feel like he was losing Tilda all over again. He wasn't sure why he felt that way, but he did. His stomach hurt, as though someone had kicked him.

"Well, you know that we'd gone home first. Gnomes had completely taken over the garden. It was a right mess. The plan was to stay there until the end of the month, then come here. Ron wanted to get in some Quidditch practice, so he and I went to the old orchard. And then Malfoy tried to get revenge on me for that Bat Bogey Hex I put on him. But you know all about that." So she told him about what Moody had seen through the door at St Mungo's, but at the mention of Moody, they both went quiet again. Harry thought he heard some movement in Phineas Nigellus's empty frame, which made him nervous. Ginny leaned forward, glancing at the portrait out of the corner of her eye. "I think we should go somewhere else," she whispered. "I have a bad feeling about him. I'm not so sure he doesn't have Extendable Ears."

Harry wasn't so sure about Nigellus either. "Okay. Let's go up and visit Buckbeak."

"Good idea," she agreed. "But lets take some food." After going to the kitchen they climbed up the stairs to the top of the house, where Buckbeak had his lair. As they entered, the beast became very agitated. Harry winced as he stepped on the bones of small animals. When Buckbeak saw him, Harry bowed deeply and Ginny followed suit. Buckbeak bowed in response, and when he rose again, Harry went to him, giving him the food, stroking his feathers after he'd eaten and patting his smooth rump affectionately. Ginny stood on Buckbeak's other side, using her fingers to preen him.

Humming softly and suddenly looking sad, she said, "He misses Sirius," into the silence.

Harry's throat felt tight. He looked at her; she was sniffing and seemed to be holding her eyes open very wide, as though that would keep her from crying.

"He's not the only one," Harry said softly, continuing to pet Buckbeak. She nodded.

He hadn't thought about how any of the others would feel about Sirius being gone, but then he remembered that Ginny had been able to spend all of the previous summer in the Black house, and that she was as interested in going to the Ministry to save him as Harry had been. They petted the hippogriff in silence until the beast seemed unsettled and moved away from them, kneeling on some straw in the corner, where he set to work worrying a rather large bone. Harry leaned against the wall, twirling a piece of straw.

"You never told me how Ron and Hermione got into the row at St Mungo's," he said, before she could say anything else about Sirius. He couldn't go through that just now; he wasn't interested in breaking down and crying in front of Ginny, nor having to cope if she started crying. He didn't think it would be like Cho crying, but he still felt ill-equipped to comfort someone else when he felt so miserable about Sirius and Moody. And Tilda.

She told him what had happened when Mrs Weasley had let slip that Ron's middle name was Bilius. "Knowing my Mum she would have done something to get them together if they hadn't done it on their own at last. She's a bit mad about matchmaking. Goes on about how none of the girls she went to school with would be married if not for her." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Must run in the family...." She reddened.

Harry didn't understand. "Why do you say that?"

She looked uncomfortable. "You heard Ron on the train...." Her voice was very soft.

Harry wracked his brains for what Ron was supposed to have said about matchmaking, then shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not remembering. A lot has happened."

She looked at Buckbeak, crunching his bone. "Well, I mentioned that Michael and I had broken up and then I mentioned Dean's name, and Ron--"

Harry remembered now. "Oh! I see." He remembered thinking that Ron was looking at him very strangely after he'd told his sister to choose someone more 'worthy' next time.

"I mean--he used to like Dean!" she said, throwing up her hands.

Harry shrugged. "I don't think he has anything against him..."

"No, he does have something against Dean now. You missed the row when you were in one of your detentions with Umbridge, but he caught Dean drawing my picture and had a bit of an 'episode,' as Mum says. He came completely unhinged. I mean--I'd become friends with Dean. All of this didn't just come out of the blue."

Harry was confused. "What do you mean he caught Dean drawing you?"

"Drawing my picture. He's really good. Wants to go to art school. After Hogwarts, of course. At any rate, he asked me if I could pose for him, and--"

"And you said yes?" Harry said, wide-eyed, trying not to imagine her without clothes, being drawn by Dean. He remembered seeing Tilda remove her dressing gown again, the first time he'd ever seen a woman without any clothes. That made him remember how much it hurt when Tilda told him that they couldn't be together, and it was like being kicked in the stomach all over again....

She shrugged casually. "Of course I did. Why not?"

Harry couldn't believe how nonchalant she was being; he was still distracted by thoughts of Naked Ginny and Naked Tilda, into the bargain. "If you were posing in the nude for Dean, of course Ron was upset!" He tried to seem more like a concerned brother than someone who might be picturing her without her clothes. I should definitely not be thinking about that! he thought, making it even more difficult not to think about it.

Ginny made a face. "What on earth made you think I was posing in the nude for Dean? I was fully clothed, Harry! Good heavens, what do you take me for?"

Despite her words, her face was glowing, and Harry could feel his own face growing hotter. Why had he immediately assumed that she'd been without clothes? "Well, if you--you were fully clothed, why was Ron upset?" That was it; he'd assumed that her state of undress would be the reason for Ron's reaction.

"Well, I was wearing clothes, but--" Her flush did not dissipate and she strode toward the door quite suddenly. "Do you want to see some of the drawings he gave me? Maybe you'll understand what I mean, how good he is."

Harry looked at Buckbeak; it really wasn't that interesting or fun to hang about with a hippogriff. He agreed and followed her down the stairs to the room she shared with Hermione. Harry hadn't been here before; it was very nearly as stark as the room he shared with Ron but for a painting of a very severe-looking woman over the mantel. She held a baby in her arms. Something about the baby looked familiar. For that matter, the woman looked familiar as well.

Harry practically jumped out of his skin when the portrait addressed Ginny. "What do you seek, my dear?" Harry backed up and sat on one of the beds while Ginny continued to search through her dresser; she knelt on the floor before the open drawers, bent over.

"Those drawings that Dean gave me," she said carelessly, as though she'd expected to be addressed. Harry stared at the woman; he couldn't think where he'd seen her before.

"The drawer above that one," she informed Ginny, who slammed the bottom drawer shut and opened the next one up.

"Got them! Thanks," she said amiably to the painting. Just then the baby awoke and began to howl. He still looked familiar to Harry. Thinking about it, he realized it was probably because they were Blacks and there was a family resemblance. That's all it is, he thought, seeing in his mind's eye yet again Sirius falling through the veil....

"The baby is hungry," the woman said. "Excuse me; I will take care of this in private."

Ginny nodded, still kneeling on the floor. "Oh, of course, Mrs Black."

As the woman left the portrait, carrying the baby, Harry stared in shock at the space where she'd been. "Mrs Black! But she's so--"

"Sane? I know. That's Sirius's grandmother, not his mum. Still a bit barmy about the pureblood thing, but she's actually nice to me, usually. She sometimes says things about Hermione being Muggle-born, but not in front of her. Once she asked me how I can bear to share a room with her, but I didn't answer. The one downstairs, on the other hand--"

"--doesn't hide how she feels about anyone."

"Exactly," she said grimly. She stood, but Harry was still staring at the empty portrait.

"So the baby is--"

"Sirius's dad."

He swallowed, thinking it very unfortunate that a picture of Sirius hadn't been preserved, even a painting of him as a baby. However, after giving it a moment's thought he decided that he didn't really want to try to talk to a baby. A baby certainly couldn't talk back. For the millionth time he wished that he had used the mirror Sirius had given him to find out whether he was all right. The desire to speak to him was suddenly quite overwhelming.

Ginny stood up. "Here they are," she said with a forced cheerfulness. She sat on the bed next to him and opened a small cardboard portfolio. Taking it from her, Harry looked at the drawing on top: Ginny sitting sideways in a red armchair in the Gryffindor common room, her legs draped over the arm, a book propped on her knees. She wore jeans and a blouse, but her feet were bare. Her hair was a riot of red, nearly blending with the chair in places. Dean had carefully used coloured pencils to add shading, light and shadow to the composition. Harry could see how absorbed in the book she was, how firmly ensconced in the chair.

"He's really good," Harry breathed, amazed by the detail, by the way the light from the candles created pools of warmth on the rug, on Ginny's book, on her bright hair. He'd exactly captured her profile, the small slender fingers holding the book. He glanced up at Ginny, who was blushing again and trying not to look pleased.

"Go on--look at the rest," she urged him, turning over the picture he'd just seen. The next showed Ginny--clearly on a bed--lying on her side with her head propped on one arm. This time she wore a cardigan over a blouse and the same denim skirt she was wearing as she sat next to him, although her reclining position showed rather more of her upper leg than was visible at the moment. Harry swallowed. If I could have drawn Tilda....

Ginny rose and went to the mantle, moving some things around, looking very shy now. When he turned the drawing over he saw that there was some writing on the back. My dearest Ginny.... I love you so much....

He reddened and turned quickly to another drawing, not wanting to read what Dean had written, thinking of how embarrassed he'd be if he'd written a letter to Tilda and someone else read it. He saw that in the next drawing Ginny was looking forward, a frank, open expression on her face, and a little bit of a challenge in her eyes. Harry imagined Dean looking at her for a very long time while drawing this, and he imagined Dean thinking of drawing her while writing the letter that was on the back of the other drawing....

When he had looked at all of the drawings, she returned to the bed and closed the portfolio, tying the ribbon at the edge, still rather pink. Putting it away in her drawer again, she said, "I don't know whether I should bother trying to have any contact with him during the holiday. Everything like that makes Mum and Dad so nervous these days. And he lives right here in London, too! It's so frustrating. And there's what Ron said--"

"About what?"

Ginny sighed and looked uncomfortable. "You know."

She cleared her throat but didn't finish. Harry had a feeling he knew what she meant.

"Oh, you're afraid he's going to try to play matchmaker?"

She nodded miserably. "With absolutely no regard for the fact that you're not interested in me and that I'd like to see Dean! He's as bad as Hermione, sometimes, with her house elf liberation thing. Ron told her that Dobby is the one who took all of the hats she left lying about the common room. That was part of their row. I forgot to mention it. I didn't know about that. Did you?"

Harry laughed, trying not to think about the other things she'd been saying. "Yes, I knew."

"So," she said suddenly, "about bloody time, if you ask me. The pair of them."

Harry thought so, too. "He was belching up slugs for her in second year," he said, by way of agreement.

Ginny laughed and grimaced at the same time. "Oh, don't remind me! And I was hoping that the two of them being together would mean he'd forget about matchmaking," she said quietly. "It did, for a while. Just temporarily, though. He's been singing your praises to me constantly. I've wanted to hex him more than once to shut him up. Not that I don't think you're brilliant, Harry," she added. "But he knows you're not interested in me. It's not fair to you. And there's Dean...."

Harry watched her, standing near the mantle after closing the dresser drawer. Mrs Black had returned with Sirius's father and was settling in her chair again. It seemed that there was no place in the house to have a discussion without a portrait overhearing or a hippogriff making a great racket gnawing on bones. Or without having to deal with the issue of Ron and Hermione using the room for kissing. Harry missed the Burrow, where they used to be able to amble out into the garden whenever they wanted, or play Quidditch in the orchard. Where Draco Malfoy had been lurking, intending to attack Ginny....

She went to the door of the room and opened it; Harry followed her into the corridor. They reached the front hall and Ginny put her ear to the drawing room door, not bothering with the Extendable Ears this time. She stepped away, sighing. "Revision now. Too noisy for kissing." She shuddered.

Michael Corner must have been the world's worst kisser to put her off it so, Harry thought ruefully, no longer assuming that he was the worst in the world at this. Tilda hadn't seemed to mind kissing him. She had been upset with herself for liking it too much. Stop thinking about Tilda, he ordered himself.

"I didn't get to see the twins much the other night. How are they, anyway?" he asked her as they reached the kitchen. He'd been expecting to see Mrs Weasley there, but she'd evidently finished the washing up and had gone elsewhere. Crookshanks had been curled on the hearth rug, but when they sat in the chairs by the fire he leapt onto Ginny's lap, purring loudly. She scratched the enormous cat behind the ears, making his purr change pitch subtly. Even though it was summer, Harry was glad of the fire; the kitchen was rather cold.

"They're good, better than good. Their new shop in Diagon Alley is simply amazing. Or at least--so I hear." She stroked Crookshanks' fur.

"I couldn't believe it when they said they'd got premises. And the shop is actually open for business? That's brilliant!" He thought wistfully of their triumphant exit from the castle. Maybe I should just leave school without doing sixth and seventh year. Then I could join the Order and really concentrate on fighting Voldemort....

"Yes, and a little bird told me who gave them the money...." she said slyly, continuing to stroke the ecstatic cat.

Harry sat up straight. "They told you?" Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry realized that she had used the Extendable Ears again. "Ah, I see."

"Yes, and I'll probably be old and grey before I get to see the place. Or out of Hogwarts, at any rate," she grumbled, rubbing Crookshanks between his ears.

"Why?"

"Why? Do you recall our going to Diagon Alley for our school things last year? No. Do you remember the last time you had ice cream at Florean Fortescue's?"

"Yeah, it was--" Before Voldemort was back, he remembered.

"Right," Ginny said, as though he'd spoken his thought. "Mum and Dad don't think it's safe for any of us in Diagon Alley anymore, so we're stuck here all summer, and all during the Christmas holiday, too, probably. Unless we're ordered to stay at the castle. I understand how Sirius felt now, being cooped up here all of the time," she said, then stopped herself, looking like she wanted to bite her tongue. "Oh, Harry. I'm sorry--"

Harry shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Don't be. You can talk about him, Ginny. I want you to. I don't want people to act like he never existed."

She nodded. "All right. I wasn't sure. I mean--I didn't mind being stuck in the house so much last summer, somehow. He was here to talk to. That helped. But I don't think we were much of a comfort to him. He always seemed so restless."

Harry looked at the fire and thought about the first time he'd been to Diagon Alley with Hagrid. "You're sure there's nothing we can say to convince your parents to let us visit Fred and George's shop? Even if we have someone go with us? I'd love to see it. And I'll bet Ron and Hermione would, too."

She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide. "No! Let's leave Ron and Hermione out of this. That way, I could ask Dean to meet me there...."

Suddenly, the idea of going with Ginny to the twins' shop so she could meet up with Dean Thomas made him a little uncomfortable. "What if the twins tell someone about that?"

She shrugged. "When they found out about Michael they were all right with it. Oh! And if we get Bill to take us, he wouldn't tell, either."

Harry cleared his throat, still nervous about this. "Still--"

"I know!" she said suddenly. "We could make Ron think his little matchmaking scheme is working and we're going to the shop together, properly chaperoned by Bill, of course, and we'll just happen to run into Dean and Luna there! I'm sure Luna would go along. And then you could go off and talk to her while I talk to Dean...."

Suddenly, this sounded much more interesting to Harry. "I could go off with Luna?"

"You don't mind, do you? Oh, please tell me if you do...."

He pictured Luna looking for her belongings again, and this time she stayed Luna in his mind, instead of becoming Tilda. But still....there was something about Luna Lovegood....

"I don't mind. To tell you the truth--" He hesitated. "I thought you were going to tell me before that Luna fancied me, and I was just a little disappointed when you didn't--"

Ginny looked shocked. "Oh. I--I didn't realize. All right, then," she said, with a shake in her voice. "Well--that actually works out quite well, then. In fact, it's almost too perfect. This would solve a lot of problems all at once. Since we'd be giving the impression that we're going to Diagon Alley together, Ron might stop trying to throw the two of us together; I could see Dean; you could see Luna; and maybe she'll stop obsessing over Ron and I won't have this awkwardness anymore between me, Hermione and Luna. It could work. If Mum and Dad let Bill take us, that is. They still might not approve."

Harry nodded at the fire. "Couldn't we just go by Floo? Then we wouldn't even have to walk about in the rest of Diagon Alley."

Ginny bit her lip. "They only use the fire here for communication. Let me talk to Bill about it." She looked excited at the prospect of getting out of the house; her eyes shone in the firelight. Harry remembered looking at Tilda's eyes just before they'd kissed....

"The thing about kissing," he said suddenly, not really thinking about what a drastic change of subject this was; "is that, yeah, it seems like a ruddy stupid thing to do. Unless you're doing it with the right person."

He looked at Ginny, whose eyes were wide with fright, it seemed. "Erm, I reckon you might be right. I have wondered what it might be like to kiss Dean...." She cleared her throat for a moment, then made an effort to change the subject again. "At any rate, you haven't had a chance to talk at all about what you've been doing for the past fortnight. What on earth have you been getting up to?"

Harry looked away from her, every moment he spent with Tilda suddenly coming rushing painfully back. "I kept busy," he said hoarsely, his throat tight.

"Busy? Doing what?"

He stared into the fire and said softly, "It's--it's a long story. You see, I was--I was staying with a former teacher of mine...."

She stopped petting Crookshanks, who leapt onto the hearth rug again, bristling with indignation. Harry knew that if he looked at Ginny, he couldn't do this, and he needed to, he desperately needed to tell someone. Remembering Ginny needing to talk to someone in her first year, he decided that he shouldn't keep this bottled up inside him until Voldemort or a Death Eater found a way to exploit this need....

Never looking directly at her, and without prompting, he gazed into the fire and began to tell her everything.

---