Intersections

Chapter 11: Teachers

"Legilimens."

Harry gasped as a sharp pain lanced through his skull, and Snape began to drag memories out of his mind. He was sitting in the cupboard, counting spiders as he waited to be let out to use the bathroom....Uncle Vernon's sister, Aunt Marge, was at the front door of the house, giving him a nicely wrapped gift that turned out to be a box of dog biscuits...Dudley was hitting him with the knobby Smeltings stick and making fun of his large, worn clothes...he was at the back row of the form room in Stonewall High, feeling a foreign hope run through him as Hermione introduced herself....Harry felt his stomach begin to knot with anger and dread and a terrible feeling of violation, and he threw up a stone wall in his mind against the intruder, trying to keep his breathing calm as he pushed Snape forcefully out of his mind. His mind crashed back down to Earth, and he found himself sitting across the table from Snape, staring into the professor's coal-black eyes. Harry averted his gaze and wrapped his arms around himself, shivering slightly.

"You have been practicing, Potter," Snape said coldly, "but there is still much room for improvement. The defense of your mind must be a proactive activity, not a reactive one. Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Potter!"

Harry's head snapped up, and he faced the professor tiredly. "Sorry, sir."

"The mental shields you conjured against me were sufficient," Snape continued, "but the time you wasted indulging in your memories might very well lead to your death should you ever face the Dark Lord. You must keep your shields up at all times. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said with a frown, though he really didn't understand how to "keep his shields up." Did Snape not want him to feel anything? Ever?

"Has my lesson displeased you, Potter?" Snape sneered.

"No, sir, it's just -"

"Do not talk back to me, Potter."

Harry gritted his teeth in frustration and nodded. Snape was just as bad as Aunt Petunia - he never let Harry ask questions. Harry still didn't know how Snape knew Lily as a child.

"Have you had any more visions of the Dark Lord?"

"No, sir," Harry answered. He hadn't had any more nightmares about Voldemort trying to kill him, either - though he did have a few in which his wand suddenly got a mind of its own.

"And have you been continuing to empty your mind every night of thoughts and feelings?"

"Yes, sir." Mostly, anyway. Sometimes he couldn't help but think of embarrassing things after watching Ginny sneak out and fly in the moonlight. He was very glad that Ron was not the one teaching him Occlumency.

"Keep practicing, Potter. I expect improvement when I see you next weekend."

Harry barely remembered to say "Yes, sir" before Snape whirled around, went to the Apparition point in the back garden, disappearing instantly. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Snape had been teaching him Occlumency every other day since they'd first met on New Year's Day, but now that the Hogwarts term was starting, they'd only have lessons every Saturday. Harry was glad. Occlumency lessons always made him feel like he'd gone through the wringer ten times in a row.

In addition to Occlumency, he and Hermione had been continuing to learn spells from Ginny's old textbooks. After a few more days of working on the Levitation Charm, they had moved on to Lumos and Nox, which lighted and extinguished their wands like the switch on a torch, as well as Alohomora, which undid door and window locks. Fred and George did practical demonstrations and also taught them a few hexes, curses, and jinxes, namely the Leg-Locking Curse ("Locomotor Mortis"), the Full Body-Bind ("Petrificus Totalus"), the Jelly-Legs Jinx, the Boils Curse, and the Tickling Curse, among others. Hermione had been worried about learning such spells, but the twins had assured her (with smiles that were a little too convincing) that the spells were a regular part of Defense Against the Dark Arts training. Harry picked these defensive spells much more quickly than the Charms and such in the Standard textbook, which both worried and pleased him. Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to pick up the Standard's spells more quickly than Harry.

Harry's initial reservations about having a wand that was related to Voldemort's still lay in the back of his mind, but he figured that as long as he could make the wand do what he wanted it to, there was nothing wrong with using it. Despite Ollivander's talk of the wand choosing the wizard, Harry knew that he was in control of the wand. The wand - and hence, in a strange way, Voldemort - did not control him.

That was what he told himself every time he picked up the wand, anyway.

He did wonder, at times, where Mr. Weasley had got the gold to pay for his and Hermione's wands. The Weasley family was far from rich, and it would be very unfair and unlikely for them to pay for Harry and Hermione's wands without also buying Ron a new one. Dumbledore must have given them the money - the headmaster did say he'd take care of it. Perhaps Hogwarts had a scholarship fund that Dumbledore had used. Harry and Hermione were supposed to be Hogwarts students, after all.

Harry felt a wave of jealousy pass over him as he listened to the sounds of packing upstairs. From what Ron, Ginny, and the twins had said, Hogwarts sounded like the most wonderful place to go to school. He should've been there, and if he'd only read the letter before his aunt and uncle had snatched it away from him...if only he'd done more accidental magic shortly after that trip to the zoo with the Dursleys...if only he'd written back before Aunt Petunia had a chance to do so....Harry shook the thoughts away quickly. There was no point in dwelling on the past. He was learning magic now with his best friend - the fact that he even had friends still boggled his mind sometimes - and he was living with people who treated him much more nicely than his relatives (even if Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's behavior had improved recently). A month ago, he wouldn't have thought any of this was possible.

A flash of bright red hair caught his eye, and he looked up to find Ron coming into the kitchen. "Hey mate," he said, taking a long swig of a drink called butterbeer. "How was your lesson with Snape?"

"Snape's a git," Harry groaned, grabbing his own bottle of butterbeer and sighing as the warm liquid went down his throat.

"Yeah, he is," said Ron sympathetically. "He's a right wanker to all of the Gryffindors at school, too. Takes points from us all the time and gives them to his slimy little snakes. He's Head of Slytherin, you know."

Harry nodded. He was still willing to bet that not all of the Slytherins were slimy bastards, but with Snape as their mentor...well, perhaps they were.

"Are you all packed for Hogwarts?" asked a new voice. The boys turned and found a rather disgruntled Hermione heading for the kitchen table, carrying quill and parchment. "Ginny's making a mess of the room right now - I can't write a letter without having her ask me to move every other minute. She said that she's lost her Charms essay, and that she was sure it was on her desk this morning."

"Who do you keep writing to, anyway?" asked Ron curiously. "Your boyfriend?"

Hermione's cheeks turned red. "No, I haven't got a boyfriend," she said, her eyes darting up toward Ron's face and quickly landing on the table. "I'm writing to my parents."

"Oh." Ron looked oddly relieved, and his face flushed as he caught Harry's eye. Harry sighed and fidgeted, color rising in his own cheeks. Ron had started to have feelings for Hermione over the holidays, and the knowledge made Harry feel very, very awkward. He wasn't quite sure of his own feelings toward Hermione - he didn't fancy her, exactly, but she was certainly more than a friend. Or was she? Harry had never really had any friends before he'd met her, so he didn't have a standard of comparison. Hermione didn't make his heart beat too quickly like Ginny sometimes did (or Cho Chang at that Christmas party), but she was definitely the person he'd talk to first if he ever had problems.

"I'm glad that the telephone's finally working," said Hermione absently, blowing the ink dry on her parchment before folding it up carefully. "Now I can ring my friends. My parents said they prefer letters, though."

Harry contemplated whether or not he should write to his aunt and uncle. The thought honestly hadn't occurred to him - they hated anything to do with magic, so they probably wouldn't want to hear from him. Still, he hadn't ever thanked Aunt Petunia for the photos of his mother (even though Aunt Petunia had made him make the photo album instead of doing it herself). He'd been taught in primary that all gifts required thank-you notes, even if the gift wasn't a good one.

It couldn't hurt, thought Harry with a grimace. He picked up the quill, marveling at the strange thin feather in his fingers. He hadn't bothered learning how to write with one since he had biros, but now he wanted to write to his relatives using the proper wizarding way - the thank-you note would be enough to not make them ignore it, but the quill and parchment would be enough to make them angry. Harry grinned deviously.

"Say, Ron, Hermione," he said, "teach me how to write with this, will you?"

---------------------------------------------------------

Hermione took a deep breath and dialed Sara Cheung's telephone number, sitting down on an empty box in the tool shed at the back of the Burrow's garage. She didn't really want to have this conversation, but she owed it to Sara, Katharine, and the rest of the people at Stonewall to explain why she and Harry weren't coming back next term. After all, they had welcomed her and befriended her so openly; it felt wrong to abandon them without saying why.

"Hello?" Sara asked. "Who's calling?"

"Hello, Sara," said Hermione, steeling herself, "it's Hermione."

"Hermione!" Sara shrieked in surprise. "Where are you? We just came back to school last week, and you and Harry were gone!"

"We...we've transferred," said Hermione carefully.

"What? Transferred again?"

"We...er..." Hermione cast her mind about for something to say. "This other school contacted us. They've apparently been trying to have us come there for years." Hermione bit her lip and plunged onward. "Harry and I...when we became friends, we kind of found out about this school. His aunt knew, you see, but she kept it secret, and she - she refused to send him there. But we - well I - did some research, and we managed to contact the school, and so we're attending now."

Sara was silent for a moment. "I think I understand," she said. Hermione could hear the puzzlement in her voice. "Which school is it?"

"It's the same one your cousin Cho goes to," Hermione answered, and then she wanted to smack herself, because she and Harry weren't really going to Hogwarts.

Sara paused. "You mean Hogwarts?" she asked slowly.

"No, I mean, sort of -"

"Are you...a witch?" Sara interrupted, sounding stunned. "And is Harry a wizard?"

"Yes," said Hermione, deciding that honesty was the best policy. "Harry and I found out about Hogwarts, so we contacted the headmaster and he - he's set us up with a couple of tutors. We're not really attending Hogwarts, but we're still learning about magic."

"I can't believe it," said Sara. "I thought...Cho told me that everyone magical in the United Kingdom goes to Hogwarts starting at age eleven. So why didn't you...?"

"We were supposed to go when we were eleven," Hermione replied. "There was - a mix-up. It's rather complicated."

"Try me," said Sara.

Hermione launched into an explanation of how she and Harry had discovered the Hogwarts letters, questioned Harry's aunt about what the letters meant, and contacted the headmaster to find out the truth. "So now we're at -" Hermione tried to say "the Burrow," but the words refused to come out. "We're at -" Her tongue twisted oddly again. "We're at someone's house," she finally said. "We've got private tutors to teach us about magic." She refrained from mentioning their names - Sirius Black might still be a fugitive on the Muggle news.

"Wow," Sara said. "And your parents were all right with just sending you off like that?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione, biting her lip. "I had to convince them. Sara...has Cho told you much about what's going on in the wizarding world?"

"No," Sara replied. "Why? She mentioned that I should avoid the city of London if I could help it, and that I should tell her about anything suspicious. Oh, and she said to keep an eye out for you and Harry. Is that something to do with the fact that you're - magical?"

"Something like that," Hermione answered, chewing on her lip. She didn't want to reveal that a mad wizard named Voldemort was after Harry specifically. "It - well, there's an evil wizard called Voldemort who hates non-magical people."

"Like me?" Sara asked. "Muggles?"

"Right, Muggles," Hermione said, surprised that Sara knew the term. "He and his followers - the Death Eaters - they've been attacking people all over the city. Do you know about the attack at Paddington Station on New Year's Eve?"

"Yes."

"That was the Death Eaters. That's why Cho doesn't want you to go into the city."

"Wow," Sara said, and she sounded genuinely frightened with her next question. "Is it safe here? In Surrey? Do you know if Cho's safe?"

"I'm sure Surrey's safe," Hermione reassured her, though she really had no way of knowing. "And I've heard that Hogwarts is the most secure place you can be." Ron and Ginny had said as much. Apparently, Dumbledore was the greatest wizard on Earth, and the only wizard feared by Voldemort. With him as headmaster, Ron had told her confidently, Voldemort wouldn't dare attack the school.

Hermione still wasn't sure how much she trusted Dumbledore. She didn't doubt that he was as powerful as everyone recognized, but she still believed that he was hiding loads of information, especially from her and Harry. Why hadn't they been allowed to explore Diagon Alley as he'd promised on New Year's Day? Why were they training at the Burrow instead of at Hogwarts? (This question had occurred to her several times over the last two weeks, especially since Hogwarts sounded a bit like Witsford.) If Hogwarts were the most secure place on Earth, then surely it would make more sense for her and Harry to learn magic there. The defenses on the Burrow were quite strong, but it wasn't as if Dumbledore would be here at all hours of the day like he would be at Hogwarts. In addition, this Order didn't seem to be doing a very good job. The purpose of the Order was to fight against Death Eaters; why, then, had they not been able to prevent the attack on Paddington Station? Or the one on King's Street, the one that had destroyed her parents' office?

At least all of her friends from the city were safe. They'd all been home on New Year's Day, nowhere near the Tube.

"Hermione? Hello?"

Hermione quickly shook her thoughts away. She'd have plenty of time to dwell on them later. "Sorry, Sara. I was thinking about something."

"It's all right. I wanted to thank you for the information."

"You're welcome."

"When are you going to come back to Surrey?"

"Oh..." Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know. Maybe for the summer holidays." She hadn't had a chance to ask Dumbledore about that yet. She was just grateful to have regular contact with her friends and parents so far.

"Well, maybe we'll see each other then," said Sara. "Take care, Hermione. And...would you ring me if there's any news that - that I might need to know?"

"Of course. Say hi to Katharine, Lina, Will, and Arianne for me."

Sara laughed. "I will. I'm sure Lina will be happy to hear that you haven't eloped with Harry. That was her theory."

"Eloped?" Hermione sputtered. "I'd never do something like that!"

"She was convinced that you two were together after my party," Sara said, sounding amused. "It's not that surprising that she drew a conclusion like that when she found out both of you were gone."

"I'd never elope," repeated Hermione, appalled. "And we're not - together." Harry was quite a nice boy, but....

"I believe you," Sara replied, laughing again. "Don't worry, I'll set her straight. I'll talk to you later then. It's good to hear from you."

"You too. Bye, Sara."

"Bye!"

Hermione hung up the receiver with a satisfied smile. It felt good being able to tell one of her friends the truth about where she was and what she was doing. Ever since she'd found out about magic, it seemed like she'd had to tell lies to at least one person (or set of people) that she cared about. All that she'd been able to tell her friends at Witsford in the city was that she'd transferred to a new boarding school that she couldn't name, and that the courses she was taking were slightly different - not GCSE material. They, of course, hadn't been very happy with those answers and wished to know more, but Hermione didn't want to find out how they'd react if she told them she was learning magic. Matthew and Cecilia were fans of Lord of the Rings and other fantasy stories, but they didn't actually believe that magic was real.

With a sigh, she trudged back through the dark garden for dinner, her spirits lifting as she caught sight of the warm, rich dishes lying in the orange glow of the kitchen. Ron and Harry were setting the table, and he smiled as he caught sight of her, beckoning her inside. Ron opened the door for her with a grin.

"Did you have fun with the felly - I mean - the te-le-phone?" he asked, pronouncing each syllable carefully.

Hermione stifled a laugh. "It was brilliant, thank you. I rang one of my friends in Surrey."

Harry looked up at that, and he gave her a surprised glance.

"A girl named Sara," said Hermione, in response to his silent question. "I told her that Harry and I wouldn't be going back to Stonewall - that was our school before we came here."

"Did you tell her about magic?" Ron asked nervously.

"She already knows about it. Her cousin Cho goes to Hogwarts."

Ron dropped the fork he was holding. "Cho? Cho Chang?"

"Yes. Do you know her?"

"Yeah. Sort of. She's the Ravenclaw Seeker - Ginny hates her."

"Is she as good as Ginny?" Harry asked with interest.

"Better," Ron answered, glancing around furtively. "Don't tell Ginny I said that, though. It's 'cause Cho loves being Seeker, but Ginny would rather be Chaser."

Harry's cheeks were reddening. "Erm...I see," he said slowly. "I, er, I've got to go to the loo." He raced upstairs, and a few moments later, the sound of the door slamming shut echoed throughout the house.

"Wonder what's wrong with him," said Ron, casting a suspicious glance toward Harry's direction.

Hermione couldn't help smirking as she recalled Harry's behavior around Cho. "I'm sure he'll be fine in a minute."

Ron shrugged, looking unconvinced.

Dinner soon started after Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the kitchen, followed by Ginny, the twins, Mr. Weasley, and finally Harry, who looked considerably calmer upon his return (though his cheeks looked rather flushed). After a few moments of appreciative noises for the food, easy conversation began around the table. Mr. Weasley turned to Hermione inquiringly. "Do your parents have something called comp-ters?"

"Computers?" Hermione corrected. "Yes, they have them in their office."

"How do they work? They're a bit like tellies, aren't they?"

"Sort of." Hermione's brow creased as she tried to find a way to explain. "The thing about computers is that you can input your own data into them...."

----------------------------------------------

Sunday morning was one of the most interesting days in Harry's memory.

"Ginny, dear! Don't forget your cloak!"

"I'm coming, Mum!" Ginny ran past Harry on the narrow staircase, her long red hair whipping behind her. Harry caught a faint flowery scent that left him momentarily breathless, and he paused to regain his senses just as Fred and George trampled down the stairs, the tips of their hair covered in a foul yellow substance.

"I'm telling you, any more Scourgify and our hair will fall off," George snapped. "We're going to have to use Mrs. Scower's to get it off."

"And how exactly are we going to get Mrs. Scower's?" Fred argued. "Are we going to nick it from Filch? You know Mum ran out a week ago, and we're going back to Hogwarts in two hours."

"Nick it from Filch?" said George, a grin spreading over his face. "That, dear brother of mine, is an excellent idea...well, are you coming to eat, Harry?"

Harry jumped. He didn't know that they'd noticed him. "Yeah, I'll be there in a minute. I'm waiting for Ron. He's lost his prefect badge."

Fred and George exchanged shifty glances. "You should come ahead to the kitchen," said Fred, "else the food will be gone."

Harry's stomach growled and he relented. "All right." He followed the twins and sat down next to Ginny, who grinned and passed him a plate full of eggs and toast. "Thanks," he muttered.

"So there's a desk box that connects to the monitor?" Mr. Weasley said to Hermione, looking puzzled.

Hermione took a large swallow of eggs and looked a bit annoyed. "A desktop - which is like the brain of the computer - that connects to the screen, yes."

"Ah! That makes more sense now. I always tell the kids never to trust something if you don't know where it keeps its brain...but for Muggles, the brain is right there! Fascinating..."

"What do you mean you haven't finished your homework?!" Mrs. Weasley screeched at the twins.

"It's just one essay, Mum," Fred placated. "It's simple. It's for Charms. We'll have it done in no time."

"Yeah, Mum, you shouldn't worry," said George. "It's easy."

Mrs. Weasley leaned in closer and glared. "What is that on your hair?" she asked ominously.

Fred and George exchanged nervous glances. "It's nothing," they answered together.

"We just mixed up Ginny's shampoo with some of, er, Hermione's," said Fred.

"It was a nasty combination," said George seriously. "It -"

"Who changed my prefect badge to 'pillock'?!" Ron stormed into the kitchen, his face the same color as his hair. The neat black prefect's badge now said 'PILLOCK' in glowing neon letters.

Mrs. Weasley whirled on the twins. "Fred! George!"

"We didn't do it," they answered, with identically guilty expressions.

"At least your robes are back to normal," said Ginny helpfully.

"You two! Oh, give me that, Ron," said Mrs. Weasley, snatching the badge out of his hand. "Arthur, take a look at this, will you?"

Mr. Weasley looked a bit disappointed at having his discussion about computers interrupted, but he let out a long-suffering sigh and held out his hand. Next to Harry, Ginny was hiding her laughter behind her pumpkin juice. She caught Harry's eye and smiled; Harry felt his face flush uncontrollably.

The roaring of the Floo silenced the room. Everyone jumped up, drawing their wands, as two tall, thin men stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot out of their tattered robes. One of the men Harry recognized as Sirius Black; the other, who had brown hair with streaks of grey, appeared to be Remus Lupin.

"Remus?" said Mr. Weasley, stepping forward and motioning everyone else back. He dropped Ron's prefect badge on the table with a clang. "We weren't expecting you until the afternoon."

"Our flat's been compromised," said Remus shortly, glancing at Sirius, who was staring at Harry with an intensity that could rival Snape's. "Muggle police got a tip that Sirius was there. We had to leave as soon as we could. We're terribly sorry to intrude." His face twisted in an apologetic grimace.

"Is our Floo safe? Will they track you here?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"It should be fine. They're Muggles, not wizards. I'm going to contact Dumbledore and tell him where we are." He held up his wand, causing everyone to lift their own a bit higher. A silvery ball of light, which quickly resolved itself into a dog, shot out of his wand tip. Remus stared at it for a few seconds, nodded once, and the dog trotted out through the window.

Everyone's wands relaxed. "Well, now that we know it's you, Remus," said Mr. Weasley, sounding infinitely more cheerful, "please, come join us for breakfast."

"What was that silvery thing?" Hermione asked.

"It's a Patronus," Fred explained. "The Order uses them to communicate."

"How did you know that?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply.

"Come off it, Mum," said George. "We've been spying on the Order meetings for months. I don't see why we can't join. We're of age."

"That's a discussion for another time, boys," said Mr. Weasley firmly, as Mrs. Weasley prepared to launch into a screaming rant. "Remus, please, sit down. You too...Sirius." Mr. Weasley waved his wand, and two more chairs dragged themselves to the table from the pantry.

"Thank you, Arthur," said Remus, taking a seat. Sirius sat down next to him slowly, his gaze still on Harry. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, and he shifted uncomfortably.

"Hello, Harry," said Sirius hoarsely.

"Hello, Sirius," Harry said quietly. Sirius looked considerably less insane than when Harry had first met him. He was wearing actual robes now, he was clean shaven, and his black hair, though still straggly, had been cut to a decent length. If Harry looked closely enough, he could see that Sirius had once had a rather handsome face.

Everyone else seemed to have fallen silent. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were watching Sirius warily, while the rest of the teenagers were looking at him with curiosity. Remus was stealing glances at Harry. Harry cast about for something to say - if only to get that unwavering gaze off of him. "You look a lot better," he said awkwardly.

Sirius' eyes flickered. He did not look away. "Thank you."

"Would you like something to eat?" Mrs. Weasley asked loudly.

"Some tea would be good," Remus answered. "Tea, Sirius?"

"Yes," said Sirius, still gazing at Harry. Harry averted his eyes and looked down at the remainder of his eggs. He suddenly found himself with no appetite, and he stood up, his chair scraping loudly across the floor.

"I think I'm done," he said. "I'll be...er...upstairs."

Before he could take another step, the Floo roared again. Everyone stood abruptly and drew their wands again. Harry barely had time to catch a glimpse of greasy black hair and sallow skin before Sirius launched himself across the room with a savage war cry and threw himself down on top of Snape. Remus jumped over Sirius' upturned chair and tried to pull him back while everyone else stood frozen with shock. "Sirius, stop!"

"Get that filthy mutt off of me, Lupin!" Snape snarled, pushing Sirius' wand away from his face.

"Sirius -" Remus grabbed Sirius' wand arm, causing a violent explosion of sparks to come out from the tip.

"Get - off - Moony!" Sirius screamed, trying to push Remus off and strangle Snape at the same time.

Fred and George gasped. "Moony?" they exclaimed.

"Stop this at once!" Mrs. Weasley screamed, pointing her wand at Sirius. "Expelliarmus!"

Sirius' wand flew in an arc toward Mrs. Weasley's outstretched hand. Sirius himself was blasted backward to the front of the fireplace. Remus knelt down next to him as Snape stood up, spitting soot out of his mouth. He looked around at them with a look of bitter hatred. "Your potion, Lupin," he snarled, stalking toward the kitchen table and pulling a glass vial out of his robes. Everyone moved out of the way as he slammed the vial down on the table and went out the back door of the Burrow, Disapparating in the blink of an eye.

"Well!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, and she rounded on Sirius, who was sitting up groggily. "I never! Sirius Black! What were you thinking?!" She swelled up like a bullfrog, and Harry jumped backward as the volume of her voice raised several notches. "If you're going to live in this house, you are expected to behave like an adult! Do you hear me? An adult! Whether or not you hate Severus, but you have no reason to hex him in my house! Sirius Black! Do you understand me?!"

"He understands, Molly," said Remus, and he sent a sharp look to Sirius. "Don't you, Sirius?"

Sirius nodded, a bitter expression on his face. Harry was strongly reminded of his own behavior toward Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon.

"We'd better head to King's Cross," said Mr. Weasley loudly, checking his wristwatch. "Molly, why don't you show Remus and Sirius their rooms while the kids say their goodbyes?"

"We can show Professor Lupin his room," said Fred quickly. "He'll be staying in my and George's old room. C'mon, George."

"I'll show Sirius where he'll be staying," said Mrs. Weasley, still carrying both her and Sirius' wands.

Remus helped Sirius up, and they followed Fred, George, and Mrs. Weasley out of the kitchen. Mr. Weasley stared after them worriedly. "I'll think I'll go and help your mother," he said. "You four, stay here."

Ron, Ginny, Harry, and Hermione looked at each other in silence. "Your godfather's a complete nutter," said Ron.

Harry let out a humorless laugh. "I'm just beginning to realize that."

"He did spend fourteen years in Azkaban," Ginny pointed out. "Dad spent half a day there and came back shaking."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Is it that bad?"

"Azkaban's guarded by Dementors," Ron explained. "They're awful creatures - they suck the happiness out of you and make you relive your worst memories. That's why it's impossible to escape from Azkaban. Nearly impossible, anyway."

"You've got to ask Sirius Black how he did it," Ginny added.

"The twins said that the Patronus is the only way to counteract Dementors," said Ron. "That's N.E.W.T.-level stuff, though."

"Newts?" Hermione asked, puzzled.

"Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests. They're taken in seventh year."

"Like A-levels, but with a much cooler name," Harry said with a grin.

"Are you excited to be going back to Hogwarts?" Hermione asked. "It sounds so wonderful. I wish that Harry and I were going too."

"It's not that great," said Ron. "I mean, it won't be as cool as having Sirius Black as your teacher, even if he is insane."

"Plus, our Defense professor right now is worthless," said Ginny. "You're much better off learning with Lupin."

"I suppose," said Hermione, looking wistful. "I'll miss you all, though. We'll have to write each other often. You can tell us about what's going on at Hogwarts, and we'll tell you what it's like to learn magic from a fugitive."

"All right," said Ron, grinning. "That's a deal."

"You should shake on it," said Ginny, giving Harry a conspiratorial grin.

Hermione extended her hand, and Ron grasped it briefly, his face flushing to the roots of his hair. Hermione seemed to notice this, and color began to rise in her own cheeks. "I expect your letter then," she said, her eyes shifting from Ron to Ginny.

"All right," Ron mumbled.

"They have owls at school, so we won't have to go through the Muggle post office," said Ginny, and in a flash of understanding, Harry suddenly recalled Aunt Petunia telling him to contact Dumbledore by "owl." That was what she'd meant. Wizards probably sent messages by owl just like people had used carrier pigeons in the Second World War.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley returned to the kitchen. Fred and George followed behind them, gleeful expressions on their faces. "All ready to go, then?" asked Mr. Weasley, leading them to the rarely-used front door of the house. "We have to leave now, or else you'll miss the train."

"Oh, be careful, Arthur," said Mrs. Weasley, kissing her husband on the cheek, and she turned to her children. "Fred, George, I want you to take those N.E.W.T.s even if you think that they don't matter to your future - and I don't want any more owls from McGonagall about your products sending any first-years to the hospital wing, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mum," said the twins, grinning.

"Ron, you're doing a wonderful job as prefect - don't let the twins bother you." Ron snorted. "And Ginny, do be careful in Quidditch. It's such a dangerous sport."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'll be fine, Mum."

"Oh, come here, all of you," said Mrs. Weasley, holding her arms open, and her children embraced her tightly as a group, looking rather embarrassed. Harry turned his head away; he felt oddly intrusive. He caught a glimpse of Hermione's face and was startled to see an expression of envy pass over it. He hadn't really thought about how much Hermione must miss her parents. She wrote to them so often that he didn't think it was possible for her to suffer from homesickness.

"I'll see you later, mate," said Ron, clapping Harry on the back, as Ginny and Hermione hugged.

"See you," said Harry. He waved at the twins and Ginny, watching them file out of door into the magically enhanced blue Ford Anglia that Mr. Weasley owned. Mr. Weasley hugged his wife and went to start up the car.

"It's just the two of us now," said Hermione softly, sighing, as the car disappeared along the dirt path that led away from the Burrow.

"Yeah," said Harry, suddenly realizing how much quieter - and lonelier - the house seemed without Ron, Ginny, and the twins. "Just the two of us."

----------------------------------------------------------