The Lost Wizard

The weeks that followed were hard on everyone. Hermione, Ron and Saren all took their shifts, relieving Ginny and Mrs. Weasley at the Barrow. There wasn't much to do, except forcing potions down Harry's throat, making sure that he did not choke. Harry did not seem to react at all but lay there with his messy black hair at odds with the deathly calm of his pale skin. He was taking it the best as he did not have the worry lines and the tense looks that everyone who took care of him had. Ginny was the worse; she spent every single moment at his side, almost forgetting life needed more than just sitting by a bed. Mrs. Weasley took it the best. She seemed convinced that Harry would wake up one day despite Dr. Melvine's interference. Mr. Weasley avoided the subject entirely, making small talk with everyone while glancing nervously up the stairs, as if he were waiting for someone to make an announcement. Hermione and Ron were worried, as they had to imagine a world where Harry was dead. He had been the center of their lives so long, pushing them in to one terrifying adventure after the other. Now he was basically a corpse, unable to do a single thing.

Finally, one day Harry woke up when Ron and Saren were looking after him. He looked at them, around the room. He look confused, as if he was trying to figure out where he was. Quickly, though, another look passed over his face and he seemed to resign himself to his situation. After that he didn't move much or say anything but he looked at almost everyone as if he was trying to figure out what role they played in his drama, everyone except Mrs. Weasley. He dumbly did whatever she asked of him, whether it was sitting up or getting cleaned off. Ron sometimes caught Harry looking at her with a hunger in his eyes, a hunger that was missing when Ginny was with him. Eventually he started trying to have conversations with Ron and Hermione about whatever he heard everyone else talking about. He never talked about the past or what had happened to him; whenever the two of them asked him about anything related to what he had been doing with his life since Hogwarts, he simply stopped talking. He did open up eventually and started verbally acknowledging the other people who had been taking care of him. After a while, he would be seen walking around the Burrow grounds laughing at something Ron or Saren had said.

Of course, it wasn't too long before Fred and George made their appearance. Once they heard their adopted younger brother was staying at the Burrow, they showed up to, as they put it, "bring a little bit of breeze to that stuffy old place." They had stopped playing practical jokes but that didn't stop them from making clowns of themselves or anyone who was unlucky enough to be around them.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to glow now that her house was full once more. Whenever anyone apologized for getting in the way, she waved it off saying, "It's about time that this drafty place was filled up with children." She even managed to laugh when Fred kept insisting that they weren't children anymore.

"Wait until you have some of your own." She would reply, leaving everyone else to shudder as they just imagined what Fred's children would be like.

Everything had settled down into a routine. One Friday night, after Saren and Hermione had convinced Ginny that they should have a girls' night out, Fred declared that the guys needed to do something themselves.

"It'll be great! Think about it, just us lounging around with no female influences, if you know what I mean." He winked.

"That is if Ron doesn't spend too much time pining over Saren." George snickered.

"I do not!"

"Well, prove it and come out with us."

With that settled. Ron went off to invite Neville Longbottom and before too long, George and Fred tried to convince Mrs. Weasley that Harry would survive a trip to the Horseless Carriage. "Mum, he'll be fine. Pat says he's only thrown out three blokes out this week."

"Fred, that's because he's been closed down since the last time you visited. I don't want anything to happen to Harry."

"We won't muss a hair on his head."

"That's because it's already so messy." George whispered to Ron.

"George Weasley, you will keep any comments of those kind to yourself! Besides, I find it rather endearing." Mrs. Weasley gazed fondly on Harry. Then she whipped her gaze back to the twins. "Fine, take him with you. But if he is scratched in the least, the two of you will wish you've never been born."

"Don't worry mum." Fred call out at he hustled everyone out the door. "He won't be feeling any pain when we return."

"George and Fred, get back here!" But it was too late as Fred and George had already Apparated with Harry and Ron and ended up in a pile in the coat closet.

"Get off, George." Ron complained as he tried to shove his older brother to the side. This remark promoted some loud guffaws deep in the pile that quickly turned into a scream of pain. "I'm sorry, Fred. Did I step on your hand?" Ron asked sweetly.

"Don't worry Ronnie-kins. I know where you live." Fred giggled maniacally, sounding like a crazed wizard ready to unleash flying killer monkeys on the world.

"That was quite good, Fred. Been working on it long?" Queried George.

"Yes, I have. Mostly on tea breaks. I found the trick is to pull your ear with one hand and hook your mouth with your pinkie and pull."

George tried but nothing happened. "It doesn't work!"

"I know but you did look like a fool." Fred grinned.

By now, everyone was untangled and they all started making their way out of the closet. They opened the door and walked into the bar. The floor was wooden and the boards creaked, giving slightly as patrons and waitresses walked across. The stools and table were all wooden as was the ceiling, when it could been seen through the smoky haze that filled up the top third of the room. The walls were covered by the pictured of various Quidditch teams, sprinkled by the testimonials from some of the Horseless Carriages better-known patrons. The room had a low wooden divider with screen on top that ran through the middle, giving some more privacy to the tables in back. This was a place that had not yet been touched up by a new owner. The same family of wizards had run it for the past three hundred and forty seven years. It it's own way, the Horseless Carriage was just as much an institution as Diagon Alley, The Leaky Cauldron or Hogwarts. Of course, most of its patrons didn't think too much of the word "institution".

Neville was waiting for them by the bar when they arrived. He held in his hand a glass filled with a clear pink liquid. Fred took one look at it and exclaimed, "What's that you're drinking?!"

Neville blushed then shrugged his shoulders. "It's a Manhattan. A girl I was dating gave me a taste and I liked it."

George grabbed Neville by the shoulders and started pushing him towards the back, making sure to spill most of his drink. "Don't worry. We'll have you drinking some real drinks." With that he shoved him into a chair and motioned for the waitress. "Darling, would you get us a pitcher of Merlin's Blood?" He winked and she smiled back at him. "Someone's not going home alone tonight." He clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

"Don't be daft." Ron snorted. "The only way she'll leave with you is if she has to carry you out."

"I'd do anything for love." Fred smiled. The rest laughed, even Ron had to grin.

"Ron, how're you enjoying married life?" George asked.

"I'm not married!" Ron blushed.

"You've been dating how long? She probably has a toothbrush in your bathroom."

"Who knows how many dresses." Fred added.

"In my bathroom?" Ron asked, as he tried to make sense of that image.

George, not slowed down by this speed bump, continued "Spends every waking hour with him."

"Can't buy shirt without her permission."

"Probably can't go to the loo without her blessing."

"Say's he's not married."

"Might as well be."

"I've only been dating her for a couple of months." Ron broke in. "The way the two of you are carrying on, you'd think you've never been with a woman for more than a week."

"Fred, he's right. It's always a night of passionate love and then goodbye."

"Except, with you."

"That is so true. What we have is so special."

"George, I love you."

"I love you, Fred."

By this time, Neville was laughing silently while Harry tried to hide a huge grin with his hand. Ron was rolling his eyes. "Should I tell Mum to start planning a Weasley - Weasley wedding?"

The waitress, meanwhile, had returned with the pitcher and five pint glasses. She didn't find the conversation as funny as Harry and Neville did and left with a twisted expression on her face as if she couldn't decide if the twins were joking or not. Harry noticed and spoke up. "George, I think you might have queered your chances with her."

"Or intrigued her even more." George let a slimy smirk flicker across his face. But his mind quickly changed to more immediate concerns as Ron poured him a nice pint of Merlin's. He took a deep draw and let out a contented sigh. "Ah, who needs women when you have this?"

The rest agreed. The beer was rich and creamy, satisfying a thirst they were not even aware existed. It had a spicy aftertaste that made their desire for the next glass irresistible. This was quite an enjoyable way to spend the night and the conversation quickly changed to more erudite subjects after several pitchers.

"I like how she looks."

"She looks pretty."

They were talking about the young witch that had recently walked into the bar. She had light brown hair, a cute face and a nice figure. Of course, her presently desirability could have had something with the fact that everyone at the table had, at the very list, consumed several pints of the wizarding world's finest beer.

George suddenly had an idea. "Let's have a bet. The man who first gets her number, picks the drinks for the next round and the rest pay for it." Unlike most of the ideas he had under the influence of the lady muse Alcohol, this one seemed to have some semblance to amusement.

Fred pounded his fist on the table. "Alright, I'll go first." He got up from the table and started making his way towards the bar. The table followed him with their eyes, carrying on a running commentary."

"He's bought her a drink."

"She doesn't seem to appreciate it."

"He's still having a go at it."

"It doesn't seem to be working."

"I don't think he succeeded." The lady in question had quietly but firmly indicated she was not interested in pursuing the conversation. Fred walked back, grumbling to himself.

"Not much luck?" George asked innocently.

Fred glowered back. "She said she was waiting for a girlfriend."

"Don't blame her for having good taste." George winked and looked around the table. "Who's the next lucky lad?" He said to Ron.

"No, I'm not doing it. I'm already in enough trouble."

"Poor Ronnie. Ensnared in the sticky web of love."

"Nice and poetic, George. But I'd use the word whipped." Fred laughed, quickly recovering from his disappointment.

"I can't help if the two of you can't stay with a girl for more than a week." Ron defended himself. "Besides," he grinned evilly "I won't be sleeping alone tonight."

Everyone else let out a large groan and turned to their pints, trying to erase the mentally images that were now turning cartwheels through their minds. Nobody spoke for the next couple of moments. Fred finally broke the silence. "I think Harry should go next."

Harry protested but Fred and George wouldn't hear of it. Even Neville grinned apologetically when Harry turned to him for support. As Harry got up to talk to the girl, Fred stopped him. "He needs something to cover up the scar."

An evil look developed over George's face. "And I think I have exactly what he needs." He pulled out his wand, pointed it at a napkin and created a ten-gallon hat, the type that would be worn by a millionaire Texas oil mage. He threw it over to Harry. "Put it on and pull it down tight. There's a good lad."

Harry groaned as he pulled the hat over his head. He slouched over to the bar with ears peeking out from under the monstrosity George had inflicted on him. He also seemed to attract the pub's attention. The usual chatter dropped as everyone stopped to see what this fellow was going to do next. Harry dropped down to sit next to the girl and motioned to the bartender. The bartender, who had been watching Harry approaching the bar, quickly busied himself by making the two drinks. Harry looked over to the girl and started to talk to her. He didn't get too far because she seemed to spend the whole time staring at the ridiculous hat. He finally gave up and walked back. He reached up, ripped off the hat and threw it at the table. "I couldn't get a word from her. She kept looking at this bloody hat." He stared at the hat as if trying to make ignite from sheer force of will.

"You know, Harry, you might need your wand to burn that thing."

"Besides," George added, "I though by now you'd be use to people starring at your forehead. Anyways it could've been worse. I could've made you wear that thing Neville put Snape in." Everyone laughed and even Harry grinned.

"Speaking of our favorite professor, I saw this drag performer wearing that outfit, complete with the stuffed vulture." Ron said, sheepishly

"What were you doing at a drag bar?" George asked him.

"Probably getting some dressing tips." Fred whispered to the rest of the table.

"It was nothing, really. I was just going with Saren. Anyways, supposedly it's a favorite among the drag queens. They call it the Snape dress." The group laughed even louder.

"It's my turn." George announced, "Let me show you how a man works." He waved his wand to create a bouquet of beautiful flowers, strode down to the bar and introduced himself to this mysterious woman who had consumed so much of their evening. He handed her the flowers and bent over to whisper something in her ear. He seemed to enjoy it but she reacted by slapping him hard on the check. George seemed to try to say something else but she gave him a look that would send the most sinister of demons back to hell. Well, it seemed to work on imps as George staggered back rubbing the red mark on his face.

"Didn't go so well, did it, George?" Fred asked with an innocent grin.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Fred." George picked up a glass and laid it against his cheek.

"What did you say to her, George?" Ron piped up.

"We're all wondering." Neville added.

George shrugged. "I just said that as I had shown her my flowers, maybe she'd be willing to show me hers." The whole table broke out into loud laughter and Fred started giggling and hit the table with his hand, sending glasses into the air.

"Don't you think you might waited until the second date for that?" Harry asked as Neville and Ron try to stop as much of the precious alcohol as possible from ending up on the floor.

"I though it was rather witty." George said in a small voice. "Well, it's Neville turn. Think you're up to it, mate?" Neville shrugged his small shoulders, got up and started to make his way towards the bar. He walked up to this woman, stuck out his hand and said a few words. She smiled and gestured for him to sit down. He did and they talked for awhile. He asked her something and she got out a card and wrote something on the back. He smiled again got up, thanked her and walked back to the others, all of who were waiting with baited breath. Neville simply sat down and took a swig from his pint with a huge grin stretching his face cheek to cheek.

"So?" Fred prodded Neville.

"Yes, Fredrick?"

"Did you get her phone number?"

"Why, yes I did."

George let a low groan and tried to bury his face into the hard wooden table.

"How did you get it?"

"Just introduced myself, and we started talking. Turns out she is interested in flowers." He smirked wickedly at George.

George let out another groan.

"Well, that brings up the matter of the bet. Ron, would you be a good lad and get a round of Manhattans for the table?"

George let out an even louder groan and peered over to Fred. "I'm blaming this on you."

"Why?" said Fred, shocked.

"I don't know but I'm sure somehow this is you're fault." George mumbled into the table.

"It's all right, lads." Neville said with a rare expansive grin. "If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen."

George looked hard at Neville then turned to Harry. "I like the quite Neville better."

Harry smiled. "Maybe if you asked him nicely, he'll turn back for you."

George scrunched up his face. "No, he won't! He's mean!"

Ron, meanwhile, had returned, levitating five cocktail glasses. With a flick of his wrist, the five glasses floated over and softly settled down on the table. Ron sat down, picked up his glass and with a jaunty "cheers" to the rest, took a sip. "It's not too bad."

"He's right." Harry said, surprised.

Fred stared at his drink, then took a quick gulp. "It has a nice kick."

George wasn't moved. "I'm still not touching it."

"Come on, George, it won't kill you." George still wouldn't listen to his twin.

"I'm not drinking anything that's colored."

"Beer's colored." Ron added, trying to be reasonable.

"No, it's not. Besides, brown is a natural color."

"Just finish your drink. They're closing the place down."

George downed the drink and then stood up. "Let's go."

They took their time leaving. Finally, they were all ready to go after figuring out who had whose jacket. Neville said his good-byes and headed towards the fireplace to floo out. Fred decided that the rest needed to take a walk before going back to the Burrow. They stepped out the front door, feeling the fresh air around their faces. Ron took a breath of fresh air, not noticing his sister barreling towards him like a Bludger.

"Ronald Weasley! Why is Harry here with you? At the pub!" She jammed Ron's chest in time with each exclamation.

"Ginny, what are you talking about?"

"You bastard! I would of expected this from the two of them," She glared at the two twins, "but I would of thought you had more sense."

"Ginny, I'm fine." Harry spoke up, embarrassed.

"Harry, I'm not talking to you."

"Ginny, we were just having some fun!"

She walked up to Harry and sniffed. "You were drinking."

"A little. I was just relaxing."

"After you've been sick? What were you thinking? I can't take much more of this!"

"I said I was fine."

"Do you think I'll be around next time when something happens?"

"Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want you there in the first place?" Harry stared at Ginny.

"What'd you say?"

"I said, did it ever occur to you that I might not want a sniveling little girl to follow me all around, making sure I didn't scrape my knee?" Harry repeating again, placing emphasis on each word.

Ginny tried to say something but couldn't find the words. Her face tensed up and she turned around and quickly walked back the way she had came. Harry lowered his gaze to the ground and shuffled his feet around. The twins looked around the street, not quite sure what to do. Ron started pushing them up the street. "Come, let's get out of here."

"What's wrong?" Fred asked.

"Maureen Gasser was there at the Carriage."

"Yeah, so?"

"She's the writer of 'News of Avalon', the gossip column for the Daily Prophet."

"I think I've seen it. She writes about what's happening with some of the Ministry employees, the trouble some of the Quidditch players get into..." Fred's voice trailed off.

"Well, she saw Harry at the Carriage and I think she just heard our little conversation and I would bet that tomorrow she's going to be over at the Barrow asking some questions for the Prophet about Mr. Potter and how's he been doing lately."

Harry didn't say anything but kept walking his hands in his pants. A cold wind blew through their coats. The Weasleys said nothing but picked up the pace, trying to get home as quickly as possible.

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