The Last Days at Hogwarts

Arranging a visit for the four of them to Mad-Eye's was never going to be easy. Mad-Eye refused to lower any of the wards around his house, and the Floo network was out of the question. Grudgingly, he sent an owl to Harry giving the location of a nearby point to which they could all Apparate. Harry sent this on to the others, and, the next morning, readied himself.

He stepped out from the small copse of trees, and looked round. He must have been the first there. A popping sound. Too noisy for Ron or Hermione.

"Hi, Dean."

Dean came tramping out through the wet grass. "How did you know it was me?"

"You won't hear the others," said Harry, with a grin.

He was right. Hermione appeared almost in Dean's footsteps, and Ron thirty seconds later.

"How come you can all do it so quietly?" asked Dean.

"Well," explained Harry, "Hermione had to do it first, to show off, then Ron and I had to do it so as not to be beaten by her."

"Not showing off at all," said Hermione primly. "It's very useful. You didn't know I was there, did you, Dean?"

"Didn't hear a thing."

"There you are. If people don't hear you coming then . . . "

"Yeah, yeah. You're sounding like Mad-Eye already." said Ron. "Are we going over there or not?"

"Follow me," said Harry, leading the way.

"All this country stuff's overrated, if you ask me," said Dean, as they pushed past a clump of nettles.

"Countryside?" asked Ron in mock horror, throwing out an arm towards the neighbouring suburbia.

"Yeah, well, it's muddy and it's got plants. So it's countryside. And what's with Mad-Eye, making us come here like this? Paranoid or what?"

But they had already come onto a small lane. From there it was only a few hundred yards to the innocent looking pebble dashed semidetached house.

"You three had better wait here," said Harry, pushing the gate open.

He knocked on the door, feeling foolish at the pre arranged code. Long, short, long. "K in Morse code," Mad-Eye had said, mysteriously.

He was suddenly aware of noises the other side of the door, then it opened an inch or two. Mad-Eye's magical eye scanned him then the trio waiting on the pavement.

"What's Ron's middle name?" the voice growled.

"Bilius."

Moody grunted, then with more mutterings, he opened the door a little wider.

"Come on, you three," he suddenly barked. "Don't want you to be seen lingering outside!"

Hastily, Ron opened the gate again, and the three of them came down the path. The door was opened a little wider, and one by one, they squeezed in.

"Come through," muttered the old man, and they followed him into the front room. "Sit yourselves down," waving at chairs.

Ron, Dean and Hermione sat themselves on the sofa, and Harry took an armchair.

"Here to learn some magical tricks, eh?" Moody growled, surveying them all. None of them dared say anything. "A couple of things first. What we are going to do this afternoon is highly illegal. We would be in very serious trouble with the Ministry if anyone found out. Got that?" he barked.

Dean looked distinctly worried at this.

"You're to promise that you will tell no one - no one at all - what you have been doing today. Understood?"

They nodded. Mad-Eye turned to Harry.

"I promise," he said clearly.

Mad-Eye went from one to the other, extracting the same words.

"Well, then. The Imperius curse. That's what you all want to know about, isn't it? One of the Unforgiveables - and you all know what that means. You've all had it cast on you before now. What I want to try this afternoon is first teaching you how to fight it off, and second, how to cast it yourselves.

"Casting the spell is highly illegal. Under the wrong circumstances it will earn you a life sentence in Azkaban. And, believe me, there are very few circumstances when you can use it legally." Dean looked terrified now. "It is only taught to Aurors near the end of their training. So you can see why we need to keep this between ourselves. And don't be foolish enough to go trying it out on your friends for a laugh." The magic eye swivelled manically. "But Dark wizards won't think twice about using it - which is why you have to know about it, and how to fight it." He paused dramatically.

"Right, now we've got that out of the way, let's see what we can do."

For the next ten minutes Mad-Eye expounded how the curse worked.

"But there are two factors above all. The first is the strength of your will against the strength of will of the person trying to cast the spell. The second is whether the victim is aware of what's going to happen to him. The easiest way to cast it is when someone is completely unawares. Take them by surprise, and victory is yours.

"Now then." The eye swivelled round again. "Mr Thomas." Dean gulped. "Stand up." Both eyes now focussed on Dean. "You will try as hard as you can to push me out of your mind. All right?"

Dean nodded.

"Very well then."

Harry could see Dean's mouth open, then close. The two were staring at each other intently. Dean's mouth opened again, but no words came out. They both stood there for what seemed like minutes. Eventually Dean croaked: "I am under your control."

Mad-Eye snapped his fingers and Dean blinked, coming back to life again.

"Not bad, not bad," said Mad-Eye. "You were certainly trying hard. Mind you, you didn't stand much of a chance against me. I've worked on wizards far more powerful and subtle. Anyway, I'll leave you to think about what happened. You can sit down now."

Harry could see the feeling of relief on Dean's face.

"Mr Weasley!"

Ron stood up in his turn, and much the same happened, except that the goldfish stage lasted rather longer. At the snap of the fingers, Mad-Eye nodded.

"A good effort. You were pushing back hard. Some way to go, but that wasn't bad at all. Now, Miss Granger."

Harry had never seen Hermione look so determined. And it was obvious from the way her face was screwed up that she was putting everything she could into resisting Moody, but even so, she too eventually cracked.

"Been reading up on this, Miss Granger?" Hermione nodded. Ron muttered something inaudible. "Thought so. Recognised a couple of those tricks. Well done."

Hermione sat down, obviously tired by the ordeal.

"Now for the tricky customer, eh, Mr Potter?"

Harry had been practicing clearing his mind, and rose to his feet to face the craggy features of the old Auror. Without warning, the command came, but he was able to push it down. It came again, and this time he pushed back, as hard as he could. As from a distance, he heard a grunt from Mad-Eye. Now each was pushing back and forward at each other for what seemed like an age. Then, involuntarily he opened his mouth in response to Moody's commands, but realised what he was doing and forced it shut again. That broke his concentration, though, and he felt Moody push through, and he conceded defeat.

At the snap of the fingers, his sight cleared again. Moody was still staring at him, although there were signs of strain on his face.

"Are you all right?" he asked quickly.

The old man nodded, but sunk slowly into a chair.

"You were hard work," he said. "That Occlumency training - been doing any more?"

"No," said Harry, not wanting to explain why.

Another grunt. "You should. It was helping you there. I might be able to find you another teacher if you like."

Harry was startled. "Sounds a good idea."

"Tiring, isn't it?"

Harry was suddenly aware of a feeling of exhaustion. All that from a few minutes of fighting back. No wonder Moody was looking as he did, having dealt with four of them in succession.

"You can say that."

"Not surprising," said Ron from his chair, "since you were both at it for a quarter of an hour."

"What?"

Harry looked at the clock. It had certainly moved on, though by how far, it was difficult to tell. When had he looked at it before?

Moody hoisted himself slowly to his feet.

"We deserve a break. I've some lunch for you."

The others looked surprised, but followed Mad-Eye through to the kitchen. There was some watery sunshine which lit the room, and made it brighter and cleaner. Hermione was obviously impressed as she looked round at the well ordered, sparklingly clean, kitchen.

The food was good too. Ron paid it his usual compliment by tucking in and taking seconds when asked.

Harry looked down at his stew and an idea came into his head. "Must be Malfoy stew," he said.

The others looked at him as though he was off his trolley.

"Malfoy stew?" said Hermione uncertainly.

"Yeah. Thick and rich."

"Oh," said Ron. Then "Oh!" as the rather feeble joke sank in.

Hermione looked at her plate contemplatively. "Not Malfoy. Rich, maybe, but he's not thick."

"True," said Harry. "Goyle stew?"

"Sounds more like it."

"Ugh," said Ron. "Imagine: stewed Goyle."

"No, thanks. Well, yes, maybe, but not to eat."

When they had finished, Moody looked a good deal brighter than he had after the earlier session. They cleared away the plates and followed him back to the front room.

"What I'm gong to do now," he said quietly, "is to do something I shouldn't. Try and teach you how to cast the spell. Remember what I said. It's not a trick, or a game. It's an Unforgiveable curse. And don't you forget that." They all nodded. "Come on, then."

In some ways it was an easy spell, in other ways difficult.

"The thing is, you have to put your mind to it. It's no use just casting it and thinking it'll work. You've got to want to dominate the other person's mind. Not a nice thing to do. Which is why, of course, it appeals so much to Dark Wizards.

"There's not a lot of point trying it on me; people have tried it often enough, and nowadays I can block it almost without thinking. Instead, you're going to try on each other. And that means you'll have to forget what you learned this morning. Don't resist it - just go with it. And the person casting it - all you're allowed to do is to make the other raise his right hand. Nothing more. Understood?" The last word came out in such a growl that they all jumped.

"Right. Mr Thomas. Mr Weasley." The two boys stood up. "Mr Thomas, you try first. No fancy stuff. And Mr Weasley - relax. He's going to find it hard enough as it is."

Telling Ron to relax when he was facing Dean's wand was not terribly helpful. However, Dean gave a cry of 'Imperio!' and Harry could see the change in Ron's eyes. There was a slight twitch of his hand. Dean tried again. 'Imperio!' Ron's hand moved a little more.

Moody snapped his fingers, and Ron's hand fell back.

"Not bad, Mr Thomas. The trouble is, you've got to want to dominate him. You're too nice a person for that."

"Is that a compliment?"

"A back handed one. Right, Mr Weasley, you try now."

Ron gripped his wand very firmly, and stood, pointing it straight at Dean, who gulped somewhat. 'Imperio!' Dean's eyes glazed, but his hand stayed where it was. 'Imperio!' This time his right arm moved up about fortyfive degrees.

A snap of the fingers. "Not bad for a first attempt. Okay, you two, take a break. Time for Mr Potter and Miss Granger."

Harry wasn't looking forward to this. The idea of pointing his wand at Hermione didn't appeal. However, he knew the reaction he'd get from her if he said that out loud.

"You first, Miss Granger. Relax, Mr Potter."

'Imperio!'

He could feel the pressure of Hermione's mind. 'Raise your arm. Raise your arm,' he heard whispering in his mind. And despite himself, he felt his arm move.

Snap. "Fair. Try again, Miss Granger. And make more of an effort to block her, Mr Potter."

Hermione steadied herself, and then: 'Imperio!'

The floating feeling. He didn't try pushing back this time, but instead just concentrated on blocking Hermione from his mind. He could feel her probing for weaknesses, all the time whispering to him to just move his arm - just a little. The tussle went on for a long time, before: snap! as Moody clicked his fingers.

"A good effort." Hermione looked pleased with herself. "Now you, Mr Potter."

He raised his wand. 'Imperio!'

'Lift your arm. Lift your arm.'

Slowly Hermione's arm began to move up, and Harry kept up the pressure.

'Lift your arm.'

When it had reached the horizontal, Mad-Eye snapped his fingers again. Hermione's eyes refocused again.

Mad-Eye was nodding. "That was respectable. Now, Miss Granger, this time you are going to do your very best to block him."

What? On only his second attempt? He cast a glance over to Mad-Eye in his chair, but reading any expression on that face was well nigh impossible. Oh well, here goes.

'Imperio!'

Now he could feel Hermione fighting back, trying to push him out of her mind. He pushed harder in turn, feeling for weaknesses, probing in one place, then pushing elsewhere. His eyes focussed on hers, and then he suddenly realised what he was doing to his friend. He dropped his wand.

"What is it, Potter?"

"I couldn't do that - not to Hermione. Not to a friend."

Mad-Eye made a noise. "Trouble with you lot - you're all too decent for your own good. Try again!"

He looked back to Hermione, and she nodded slightly. Okay then.

'Imperio!'

This time the tussle seemed to last forever - as soon as he found one vulnerable spot, she was there, pushing him out again. 'MOVE YOUR ARM! MOVE YOUR ARM!' Eventually there was a twitch, and Harry suddenly felt Hermione yield.

He lowered his wand. He was sweating as if he'd run a mile; Hermione was panting hard.

He heard a noise: Mad-Eye was clapping. "Well done, both of you. Do you know how long that lasted?" Harry shook his head. "Seventeen minutes. I was timing the pair of you."

"No wonder I feel so knackered." He looked over to Hermione and mouthed: 'Sorry!' She gave a slight shrug in return.

"Hard work, isn't it? All right, you two can sit down now."

Harry looked carefully at the old man as he went back to his chair: Mad-Eye was looking exhausted.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I think we've had enough for one day."

Ron looked at him slightly surprised, but Hermione gave him a dig in the ribs.

"Well . . .

you'll have some tea before you go?" Moody asked.

"Of course," said Harry. He knew they were company for the old Auror.

"You lot wait here. I'll just go through to the kitchen."

As Moody disappeared through the door, Ron caught his eye. Harry jerked his head towards the departing back, and mouthed: "He's had enough."

Obviously Harry's miming was up to par, since Ron nodded.

"It does too," said Dean. "Take it out of you, I mean. We don't seem to have done much, but it's as if we've been at it for ages."

Hermione was looking around the room, paying it full attention for the first time. Ron stood up and stretched, and was just about to go over to the window when Mad-Eye re- appeared, floating a tray in front of him at wandpoint. A very well provisioned table, too. Ron's eyes brightened, even though it was not that long since lunch.

"Here we are," said Mad-Eye, setting it down. "Now then ... "

Moody started the business of pouring the tea and handing it round. But just as Dean was about to take a sip from his cup, he suddenly announced: "I am under your control."

The others looked at him blankly, but Mad-Eye chuckled and snapped his fingers.

"There. As I told you - always much easier when the other person is completely unsuspecting."

Dean looked at him with an annoyed expression: he obviously hadn't taken to being suddenly controlled like that, but Mad-Eye carried on passing the tea cups around with an air of innocence. Everyone was now on their guard now.

Moody sat down, and was about to reach for his own cup, when he leapt to his feet with a roar, wand out, pointing it furiously at Dean, who froze in his seat with an expression of terror on his face. The little table went flying across the floor scattering cakes and cups.

"You .. you said it was easier when the other person was off their guard," stuttered Dean.

Harry realised what had happened: Dean had tried to get his own back on Moody. Suddenly he started laughing. Moody cast him a furious glance, then slowly lowered his wand.

"Fair's fair, Mad-Eye," said Harry reasonably. "You caught Dean off guard; he was trying to get his own back."

He could see Moody's face: the expressions clear despite the disfiguration. Irritation at having the obvious pointed out to him; irritation for having been caught off guard; irritation at having over reacted.

"Hmph."

The old man sat down, and with flicks of his wand sorted out the mess on the carpet. Ron had looked upset at the scattering of the cakes, but a little matter of them having been on the floor didn't put him off.

To break the tension, Moody started telling a story of long ago; fighting Death Eaters the last time round. Moody's stories were always worth listening to, but it was more than a little obvious why he'd embarked on the tale.

Eventually Harry stood up, giving the signal to the others that it was time to go.

"Thanks for giving up your time like this," he said to Mad-Eye rather formally. "We really appreciated it."

The others joined in a chorus of thanks.

"No trouble," said Mad-Eye gruffly. "Any time. We must arrange something for after Christmas. Give it another try."

There was a general chorus of assent, then everyone began moving towards the door. With more mutterings to remove the wards and spells, Mad-Eye let them out.

"Thanks again," said Harry.

"No trouble," said the old man gruffly. Then he looked at Dean. "Sorry to have reacted like that," he said even more gruffly.

Dean smiled. "No problem. Don't worry - it's something else I've chalked up to experience."

"Hmm. Well, don't try it again."

"Wouldn't dream of it," said Dean innocently.

Mad-Eye gave him a long stare before closing the door.

It was mid afternoon by the time they'd left Mad-Eye's house: the four of them stood on the pavement outside and looked at each other.

"What now?" asked Ron.

"Didn't you used to live round here?" Hermione asked, looking at Harry.

"Yeah. A couple of miles away, I suppose." said Harry.

"Would you like to show us?"

Harry looked at her, taken aback. Go to Little Whinging? Not something he wanted to do at all.

But: "Yeah, go on, Harry," said Dean.

"Well ... "

The other three stood around looking at him expectantly.

"It is two or three miles away," he warned, trying to put them off.

"We need some exercise," said Hermione. Ron made a faintly derisive noise. "Come on."

She linked her arm with Harry's, and began walking off. The other two followed a little more reluctantly.

After years of tramping the local streets, Harry knew all the short cuts. Despite his reluctance to be near the Dursleys again, he thought he might as well get this over and done with. Even so, it was a good half hour's walk. He slowed as they approached Privet Drive.

"They won't let us in, you know," he warned them. "They - well, let's say they don't go a bundle on magic."

"So?" Hermione shrugged.

Dean was looking round at all the immaculately kept houses with their neat, tidy gardens.

"Not like this round where I live," he said quietly.

Harry remembered the bleak urban landscape and the high rise blocks of flats.

"Not quite."

They turned into Privet Drive, and Harry stopped, looking down the road to where he had lived for so long. The memories were not good ones.

Slowly he took them down the street, and as they approached Number Four, they saw the front door opening, and Aunt Petunia came out, wrapped in a winter coat, carrying a shopping basket. Harry froze, and the two behind him almost trod on his heels.

Aunt Petunia came down the drive and into the road before she saw the small group. She stopped, then looked at Harry.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Her voice was icy.

Harry swallowed. "We were in the area, visiting someone, and my friends wanted to see where I used to live."

Aunt Petunia's eyes swept over the others.

"Well, you've seen it now," she said dismissively. "So you can just get out of here, can't you? And clear off back to wherever it is you came from."

"We were just curious," said Hermione in a rather small voice.

Aunt Petunia's eyes narrowed in suspicion as she looked closer at Hermione. "Are you ... one of those, too?"

"One of what?" asked Hermione in bewilderment.

"Freaks," hissed Aunt Petunia.

Hermione flushed a deep red, and Ron took a step forward. Harry held out an arm to restrain his friends.

"Forget it," he said to them. "I told you it would be no use."

Aunt Petunia glared at the group, her lips tight and thin, then cast swift glances around at the neighbouring houses. Head held high, shopping basket tightly clutched in her hand, she strode forward as if the four teenagers did not exist.

The group broke apart as she stepped through the middle of them. Open mouthed, they watched her walk away down the road.

Dean was the first to speak. "Wow!"

"Mental," was Ron's contribution.

Hermione was still too mortified to say anything.

Harry watched her go with more than a tinge of bitterness. "Yeah, well, I suppose you were lucky enough just to meet her and not Uncle Vernon or Dudley."

"I remember the bars on the window," said Ron.

Dean turned to him. "What?"

"Yeah. End of the first year, wasn't it, Harry?"

"That's right."

"Why did they put bars on the window?"

Harry sighed. "Long story. But they got annoyed with me, so they locked me in my room and put the bars there to stop me escaping."

Dean was looking at Harry as though he was seeing him for the first time. "Bars? I mean, that's evil."

"Nearly as bad as living in a cupboard under the stairs."

"What?"

"That was where I lived until I was eleven. Now you know why I was so keen to move into Grimmauld Place, despite everything."

Dean shook his head. "I knew you used to have a rough time of it, but even so ... "

"Okay, what now?" asked Harry, wanting to change the subject. "Grimmauld Place for supper?"

"Sounds a plan," said Ron.

"Do you mind if I pop home first?" asked Hermione. "Just have a word with Mum and Dad?"

"No prob."

"I'll do the same," decided Ron. "Where can we Apparate from near here?"

"The park's not far away. Some useful bushes."

"Okay."

They started off.

"How about you, Dean?"

Dean hesitated. "Can I give Olive a ring?"

"Sure."

Dean pulled out his mobile and started punching keys. Ron watched this with fascination.

"Muggles do have some useful things, Ron," said Hermione tartly.

"Yeah, I can see. Just don't let Dad get his hands on it, that's all."

As they neared the park, Harry stopped abruptly. Sauntering down the road not far ahead was Dudley and a group of his friends, swaggering along as if they owned the street.

"Watch it, guys," he warned them. "You're about to meet my cousin."

"Oh? Which one's he?" asked Dean.

"The big one."

"The blubber mountain?"

"Yeah."

Harry hesitated. Perhaps they could go another way - but it was too late. He'd been recognised. Dean was hanging back, now talking to Olive on his mobile, but Ron and Hermione were still with him. The gang drew closer, stopping a few yards away, and staring at them.

"Potter!" sneered Piers Polkiss, his face twisted in malice. There were two others with Piers and Dudley, people Harry vaguely recognised from primary school - although it had been so long since he'd last seen them, Harry had forgotten their names.

"Piers," said Harry neutrally, staring at the scrawny boy. He was still as runt- like as ever.

"Thought you'd run away," Piers went on in a sneering tone. "That's what I heard."

Harry smiled slightly. "Not quite."

Once Harry had feared Piers and Dudley; now, all he felt was contempt. He could feel his smile reflecting his feelings.

Piers looked at Ron and Hermione, then at Dean, who was just finishing his call. His eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of the phone.

"And who are this lot then?"

"Oh, just friends from school," said Harry, still trying to keep his tone neutral.

Piers looked puzzled. Hermione had been described in many ways, but criminally insane was not usually one of them.

"St Brutus's?"

Now it was the turn of Ron and Hermione to look puzzled.

"Not quite," said Harry.

Dudley had been silent all the while, but then: "They go to the same school as you?" he asked, looking at Ron and Hermione.

"Yes, that's right."

Dudley's eyes widened, and to the perplexity of all except Harry, he gave a sudden convulsive grab at his backside. "Keep them away from me!" He saw Ron's red hair, and his eyes widened further, remembering other things that had happened to him. "They're dangerous, this lot!"

"Dangerous?" sneered Piers. "This lot? I don't think so. And one of them's got rather a nice mobile there."

"You don't know them like I do, Piers." Dudley's voice was shaky with panic. "They're better left alone."

His friends looked at him - this was not the bullying and blustering Dudley they were more familiar with.

Harry decided to have a little fun. He remembered one or two incidents form the past. Stepping forward, he hissed at his cousin: "Hocus pocus!"

Dudley took another step back, looking terrified, whilst his mates gazed at him again, baffled by his odd behaviour.

Ron got the idea. He stepped forward. "Abracadabra!" he muttered in a fierce whisper, staring straight at Dudley.

Then Hermione: "Fiddlededee!"

Dean made a movement as if swishing a wand.

Dudley's nerve broke and he turned and ran. His gang gazed after him, not sure which was the more bizarre: this little group of teenagers muttering nonsense words, or Dudley beating a retreat. Piers was made of sterner stuff, however - or perhaps was just a little more stupid.

"You don't scare me," he said defiantly. "Not a runt like you." Given Harry had grown enough by now to be taller than Piers, this was a bit optimistic. "Come on, guys, I rather fancy that mobile."

His two friends were less happy with the idea, though: Ron was certainly big enough to be able to take care of himself, and Dean was an unknown quantity.

"You reckon?" asked Dean, pushing his way forward.

Dean had grown up in a much rougher, tougher area than Little Whinging, and Harry reckoned that the likes of Piers didn't stand much chance. And there was something there, something indefinably streetwise about Dean, which made Piers hesitate.

The trouble was that he couldn't back down without losing face. And with Ron at one shoulder, and Harry at the other, Dean looked quite capable of taking care of himself. Piers looked at his two friends, decided he wasn't going to get any help there, and looked back to Dudley, standing shamefaced twenty yards back.

"Next time," he sneered at Harry.

"What makes you think I would ever want to come back to this place?" asked Harry. "And what makes you think I'd ever be scared of you and your friends? All I hope is that one day, the police will get you for something, then Aunt Petunia will really find out what her little Dudikins is really like."

"You're going to have to wait a long time," Piers sneered again.

"Perhaps." Harry looked past Piers at the two remaining members of Dudley's gang. "Pity you've come to this - being led around by these two losers."

They both looked a little uncomfortable. Although he'd forgotten their names, Harry remembered something about them - they hadn't been so bad, unless egged on by Dudley.

"Listen who's talking about losers," said Piers venomously. "At least I've still got some parents, and didn't have to run away."

Harry smiled. "Run away? No, I moved out. Who in their right minds would want to live with the Dursleys?"

Piers wasn't used to a new, more confident Harry, and it showed. "So - no home, and no money. Living on the streets then?"

"Does it look as though I'm living on the streets?" Now Harry had money of his own, he could afford good clothes. He didn't dress flashily, but it was obvious that what he was wearing wasn't cheap.

"How can you afford that lot then? Nick them, did you?"

"Don't judge others by yourself, Piers. My parents might be dead, but that doesn't mean to say that they didn't leave me money."

Piers was well out of his depth now. Harry could feel the others with him getting restless. What did it matter about Dudley, or Piers, or the rest of his gang? Harry took a step forward, and was amused to see Piers back off.

"We've got to be going. We'll leave you to your thieving then."

With the others by his side, Harry strode forward, brushing Piers aside. Not looking back, they walked into the park.

"What a foul bunch of people!" Hermione burst out.

"I did warn you," said Harry, slightly wearily.

"You lived with them - all that time, before you went to Hogwarts?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"And I thought I had it rough."

"It's history now," said Harry, even more wearily. "Let's forget it. Look - the bushes are over here. Back to my place this evening, yeah?"

"Seven o'clock?" confirmed Hermione.

"Fine."

"See you later, then."

She strode off into the bushes to go home.

"Okay, mate," said Ron. "Later."

He followed Hermione into the bushes.

Dean was looking back at the little group who were standing in the street, still looking their way. "Pity," he said almost regretfully. "I'd have rather liked to have taken that lot on."

"Not worth it," said Harry briefly.

"You're probably right. Look, can you meet us - Olive and me - to let us in?"

Harry hesitated. He knew that no one could find the house without knowing how - but if he couldn't trust Dean after what they'd just been through together, who could he trust? "Look," he said, "this is the way to get in ... "

After he'd finished, he looked at Dean, but didn't have to say it.

"Thanks, Harry. I really appreciate your trusting me like this. No one will ever find out from me."

"S'okay," said Harry, embarrassed now. "No problem. See you later, yeah?"

"Yeah." Dean turned and went into the bushes himself. Harry heard the sound of Dean Apparating, and smiled slightly. He turned and looked back. The little gang had grouped up again, and had started moving into the park. Harry toyed for a moment with the thought of Apparating where he stood, but sense prevailed, and he gave the gang a small wave before, slightly reluctantly, he too stepped into the bushes and headed for Grimmauld Place. He was, however, left with the amused notion of Piers searching the bushes for people who weren't there.

Once home, he alerted Dobby as to their visitors, then went upstairs to shower and change. Remus seemed much fitter now than he had in the days soon after Harry's return, and Harry didn't want to pry into the reasons as why Remus might have had such a hard time of it. Remus agreed to join them all for supper, though he was a little reluctant at first: "I don't want to cramp your style." It took some persuasion from Harry before he finally agreed.

Ron was the first to arrive, bringing Ginny with him.

"It gets boring at home these days, particularly since Fred and George left. You don't mind, do you?" she asked.

Harry smiled. "I'll tell Dobby we're one more."

He took them through to the front room, which Remus had decorated in light, bright colours. Harry wished he had some portraits for the walls, but as far as he knew, any family portraits there had been were destroyed in Godric's Hollow. Any Black portraits had long since been removed. Phineas Nigellus had been banished to an attic room.

A knock on the front door announced the arrival of Dean and Olive. Harry went to let them in, and took them through to join the Weasleys. Hermione had arrived, and he looked at the group gathered in the front room. He might not have family, but he did have friends.