The Traitor's Blood

CHAPTER THREE

"I can't breathe, Hermione."

"Sorry," Hermione timidly backed away from Harry. "It's just so good to see you."

"It's great to see you," said Harry, "but just don't suffocate me without warning!"

They both laughed and Harry followed Hermione into the darkness of the Leaky Cauldron. She led him to a table in the far corner. In the dim candlelight Harry could see several ginger-haired heads gathered close together around the table. It looked as though the Weasley family were reading something which was spread across the table in front of them.

As Harry approached, Ron's younger sister, Ginny, looked up. Her bright eyes sparkled with delight when she saw Harry. She leapt to her feet, closely followed by Mr and Mrs Weasley, and their eldest son, Bill, who all greeted Harry warmly with hugs and handshakes.

"Harry, dear, come and sit down," said Mrs Weasley, hastily pulling more chairs around the already crowded table. "It's wonderful to see you. I hope those muggles have been treating you well?"

"Yeah, they've been OK," replied Harry, "what are you reading?"

Harry sat down at the table and looked at the large piece of parchment that was spread across it. Then he noticed the title: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"It's the full-page ad for Fred and George's joke shop," Ginny answered, "it was printed in today's Daily Prophet."

The ad was covered in wizard photos, most of which contained moving black and white versions of the twins displaying their best products. One was a particularly nasty picture of Fred (or was it George?) being violently sick. The caption read: 'Skiving Snackboxes - you'll never need to fake it again!'

Harry looked across the table at Hermione, who grinned back at him.

"So, they've started the joke shop, have they?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, yes," replied Mrs Weasley, "but I'm still not happy with the idea. They've rented a shop in Diagon Alley and it's doing well. But they still refuse to tell me where they got the money from in the first place."

Harry looked away. He had given the twins his Triwizard Tournament winnings just over a year ago and had hoped they would not tell their parents where they got it. Mrs Weasley had never approved of the joke shop idea, but it had always been a dream for Fred and George, and they really were very talented.

"So, where's Ron?" Harry tried to change to subject.

"He's helping out at the shop," said Mr Weasley, "they've been fairly busy with all the students doing their shopping for school."

"Come on," said Bill, rising from the table, "I'll take you down there. I've got to get back to work now anyway."

Bill worked for Gringotts Wizards Bank in Diagon Alley.

"Be back here at one o'clock for lunch," said Mrs Weasley.

Harry rose from his seat, closely followed by Hermione and Ginny. They followed Bill through a door in the back of the pub, which led out into a small courtyard. Bill stopped in front of the back wall, produced his wand from inside his robes, and tapped the bricks lightly. The wall folded away to reveal a long windy street lined with all kinds of shops. Diagon Alley.

As they walked down the street, Harry glanced at the usual shops and stalls. Quality Quidditch Supplies were displaying the latest Tornado's team uniform in the window. There were several stalls lining the street, selling common potion ingredients such as Unicorn horns, Dragon hearts and buckets of squirming Flobberworms.

The four of them walked in silence for a few minutes. Then Ginny spoke timidly:

"Are you coming back to Grimmauld Place with us, Harry?"

Then she let out a small cry as if someone had kicked her.

"Don't worry," Hermione said casually, "you don't have to decide yet, Harry."

"Oh, it's OK," said Harry, "I've already made my decision. I haven't changed my mind. I'd rather stay in Privet Drive for now."

He knew how strange this sounded as soon as he had said it. When had he voluntarily chosen to live in Privet Drive? But right now he really did not feel that he could stay at Sirius's old house and Privet Drive was his only alternative.

"Here we are," Bill interrupted and they all stopped.

Harry looked up at the shop. He was surprised at how good it really looked. The Triwizard winnings had obviously been well spent. In the window there was a fine display of joke wand, boxes of Canary Creams, and several packets of Skiving Snackboxes. There was a large wooden sign above the window which read: 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' in fancy writing.

"I'll see you lot later," said Bill and he continued down Diagon Alley towards Gringotts.

Hermione pushed open the door. Harry would have expected a bell of some kind to ring out the arrival of customers, but instead he was greeted by a bellowing horn. AWOOGAH.

Harry stared around the store in disbelief. It was everything he would have expected from a joke shop, and more. The room was full of object whirling and bouncing, there were sparks issuing from various shelves and strange multi-coloured bat-like creatures fluttering around the ceiling.

Fred and George were in the far corner, arguing over a counter display. In their tussle, they dropped something, which exploded as soon as it the floor. Several stars shot into the air, followed by a large puff of bright pink smoke.

"Not again," came Ron's groan from behind the counter, "I'm fed up with cleaning up your mess."

"Well, that's what we're paying you for, little bro," Fred laughed.

"Welcome to the chaos," announced George, turning to greet the others, who were still standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Harry," said Ron, who jumped over the counter and almost slipped on the pink slime that now covered the floorboards.

"Alright, Ron?" said Harry, reaching a hand out to Ron to help him regain his balance. Ron took Harry's hand and pulled him into a brief hug.

"We've missed you, mate," Ron grabbed a mop which was propped against the wall and began cleaning up the mess.

"So, what do you think?" asked Fred, "turned out good, hasn't it?"

"Brilliant," replied Harry, "really brilliant!"

They spent the rest of the morning showing Harry all the new products in the store. Several familiar Hogwarts students popped in to stock up on Fred and George's now famous Skiving Snackboxes.

Neville Longbottom, a fellow sixth year student, dropped in to see them at around midday, accompanied as always by his gran. Neville was a very clumsy and forgetful boy who had shared a dormitory in Gryffindor house with Harry and Ron for the last five years. But it was only in the last couple of months, since Neville had shown real bravery and friendship towards Harry on the night of Sirius's death, that Harry had really learned to appreciate Neville as a talented wizard.

"Had a good summer so far?" Neville asked Harry, while his gran looked apprehensively around the shop.

"It's been alright," Harry lied, "how about you?"

"Oh yeah, not bad," replied Neville, then reducing his voice to a whisper he continued, "But I'm not looking forward to going back to Hogwarts. I didn't do too well on my OWL exams and Gran's made me promise to work harder for my NEWT's. It's as if she thinks I'm not trying hard enough already!"

"You'll be alright," Harry reassured him, "I'm sure Hermione will help you out. Just as long as you give her enough time to help me, too!"

Neville laughed, then shrieked in surprise as one of the colourful bats swooped down from the ceiling, brushing the top of his head.

"Come along now," Neville's gran took him by the shoulder and began smoothing his ruffled hair with her wrinkled hand. "We've still got to buy you a new wand."

"Alright," groaned Neville, "see you later, Harry, at the meeting ..."

Neville's words trailed off as his gran pushed him back out onto the street.

"We'd better get back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch," said Hermione, whilst putting the last box of Ton-Tongue Toffees onto a neat little pyramid she had been working on.

"So, Neville's coming to the meeting as well?" Harry asked Hermione as they stepped out of the shop into the weak sunshine.

"I think Dumbledore's invited quite a few students," Hermione replied, then hastily added, "but before you ask, I don't know what the meeting's about."