If Only

Chapter Four: Healing

Ginny and Harry slammed into the ground. Ginny lost her footing but Harry only fell against the wall. He clutched it for a few seconds. Then he pulled Ginny up by grabbing her under the arms. Once the two had steadied themselves, they looked around. They were standing in Sirius' grim, drear kitchen. There seemed to have been a big commotion in here hours before and no one had cleaned up. Rolls of parchment lay forgotten across the table, and chairs were overturned and on the ground, as though someone had leapt hurriedly from their seat and not bothered to be careful. Last summer, Harry would have quickly opened the rolls of parchment up and inspected them, but now he only wanted to see his godfather.

They bolted up the stairs, but before Harry could touch the doorknob, Mrs. Weasley opened the door. She flung herself upon Harry and her daughter and began to sob. Harry felt himself going cold and numb again. Was Sirius gone? He couldn't be . . .

"Oh, Harry, Ginny," she cried, her shoulders shaking and nearly causing them to tumble down the stairs. "You--oh--when I found out--I thought I'd--oh, I love you two so much!"

Harry, through all of his horror, felt truly touched by this. Ginny was hugging her mother back and he put an arm around her too.

"We're all right, Mrs. Weasley," he said reassuringly. "Really!"

"I--oh, Harry!" she hugged them tighter. "Sirius . . ." she straightened; eyes were still glistening. "You must have been so worried. C--c-come with me. I'll take you upstairs. He's alive."

"How is he?" asked Ginny, seeing that Harry could do little more than open his mouth, take a breath and then close it again.

"He's breathing. . . ." she answered, rather simply. She did not speak again until they reached the landing where most of the Order members who'd stayed at Grimmauld Place had slept during the summer. She led them into the room right next to Sirius'. Harry was sure that he was going to find Sirius lying on the bed, turn his head, and smile . . . maybe he'd even laugh his bark-like laugh at the idea of Harry worrying so much. But he only found a large bed with a purple fire glowing in the hearth.

"You can wait here," she said quietly. "Don't worry about messing it up. No one sleeps in here."

"But Sirius--" said Harry. "I thought--can't I see--"

"You can't go in there right now," she explained in a constricted voice. "Emmeline Vance and Hestia Jones are going to come and try to help. We all know a small something about healing."

"Is--is Lupin--where is he?"

"With Sirius," she replied quietly. "I need to go now, dear. I have to help. I'll tell you when you can come in. . . ."

She left, closing the door behind her. Harry knew, after he heard the door of Sirius' bedroom close too, that she'd locked it. Ginny already had her ear against the wall.

"It's no use," she said despairingly, "the walls are too thick! And we have no extendable ears. But even if we did . . . it might distract them from--Harry . . . are you all right?"

For Harry had just kicked the bedpost.

"Harry?"

He sunk onto the bed, his head in his hands. "I'm--I'm f-fine. . . ."

"No you're not," said Ginny compassionately. "Of course your not! But--but Harry--Sirius is going to be fine! If he can survive those awful dementors for twelve years, then--then certainly he can survive this!"

"You didn't hear him stop breathing for those moments, though," said Harry. "I thought he'd died. He's--he's never looked so bad!"

"He'll be okay!" whispered Ginny. "He really will!"

"I know he's--I know he's strong but I just--I'm just worried," Harry tried to say, but there was something wrong with his throat. He suddenly wished he was back shouting at Dumbledore in the head's office.

They were silent for a long time. The sound of the door closing downstairs and two new women's voices was coming up through the walls. It stuck Harry as odd that the walls of Grimmauld Place were thin enough to hear what was going on floors below, but too thick to hear what was going on in the room next door.

They heard the door open next door. Mrs. Weasley's voice floated through their own door.

"Oh, my goodness!" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad you've come! It's been all we could do to keep him alive!"

Harry couldn't breathe; his knees were trembling. Ginny's hand was on his shoulder. He felt dizzy. Sirius . . .

"Oh . . ." Hestia's voice said, slightly surprised. "Oh . . . I--I'm sure we can heal this. . . ."

No relief came to him. Harry just stood rooted to the spot, unable to think of anything but Sirius. How bad was it? Hestia's voice didn't sound reassuring.

Ginny had curled up against the pillows and was hugging her knees, resting her head on her arms. Her eyes were focusing on the violet fire with a vaguely glazed look, though they were a very wide, a faint crease, not unlike Lupin's, in her eyebrows. Harry recognized how tired she looked. However, he wasn't remotely sleepy.

They spent many long, endless hours with Harry pacing around the room, Ginny staring, sometimes watching him with mild interest and looking very much like Luna Lovegood. After a while Harry grew unwillingly exhausted as the weight of the night's events pressed upon his aching muscles.

He sat down upon the ground.

"Ten-thirty," said Ginny quietly, her voice somewhat weak. She closed her eyes and yawned.

As Harry watched her drift off to sleep, be found his own eyelids growing heavy. The warmth of the fire finally washed over him and he fell gently into nothingness. . . .

"Sirius!" he cried.

Harry was running. Running down a long dark hallway. The familiar torches were now eyes, glaring down at him. Hands were holding him back as he watched Sirius' dark, moaning form writhe on the ground. The more he tried to get to his godfather, the longer the passage became. And the faster he tried to run, the slower he seemed to become.

"Sirius! SIRIUS!"

Harry jumped back into consciousness. He had a blanket around his shoulders, but he had no memory of it getting there. He turned to see Ginny still sleeping. She was now sprawled across the bed, breathing softly. Harry suddenly had a strange suspicion as to how the blanket around his shoulders had got there. Ginny curled into ball again without waking up and Harry gazed glassily into the fire. He thought of absolutely nothing until the door opened softly and Ginny woke with a start.

"You can go in, Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as she stood in the doorway. "Ginny . . . you should get to bed. You can see Sirius later."

Ginny nodded and jumped off the bed. Mrs. Weasley led her daughter downstairs with an arm around her and left Harry to go into his godfather's bedroom. He got to his feet, leaving the blanket and warmth to enter the cold and constantly dusty hallway. He stood outside Sirius' door for a long moment; unsure he really wanted to see what was behind it. But some unknown brand of courage stirred inside him and he put his hand on the doorknob and turned it.

Sirius lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling almost steadily. His closed eyes were heavily shadowed and his battered face was no longer as battered. His leg was in a much better splint and his arm in a sling. Hestia and Emmeline filed past him, yawning, and casting furtive glances at Harry.

The debris of many potions scattered the floor and bedside table. Lupin was sitting by the bed, an expression of deepest concern on his face. Harry knew at once that Sirius was still unconscious.

"Hello, Harry," said Lupin quietly.

"Is he--how is he?" Harry choked.

"He hasn't woken up," Lupin told him. "I'm afraid--" he paused. "He might--there's a possibility that he might--not wake up. . . ."

Harry, of course, had expected this, but he didn't expect how many times this morning he would find it hard to breathe!

"How long has he been like this?" he asked.

"A while," said Lupin. "Th-there isn't much we can do at the moment. . . ."

Harry had never heard Lupin's voice this unsteady. It was as though someone was strumming on his vocal cords as he struggled to speak. The next hour or so was spent in silence. Lupin changed his position slightly ever so often and Harry tried to lick his lips once in a while, only to find out how dry his tongue and lips really were. Another hour passed and Mrs. Weasley came in to give them tea and place a hot washcloth on Sirius' forehead. She left without a word, an expression on her face that said all too clearly that if she opened her mouth, she might burst into tears.

Harry watched his godfather sadly. He would have given anything so that Sirius would not be lying there so ill on the bed. Lupin was looking up at the ceiling, blinking hard. Harry looked away, he could not bear to think what Lupin was thinking: what would they do if they lost Sirius?

Gripping Sirius' hand in his own, he laid down his head and closed his eyes. He willed Sirius to be okay. He concentrated with his entire mind and body to make Sirius well and hoped somehow it might work. But when he opened his eyes, Sirius was still unconscious. Lupin had his head in his hands.

Harry closed his eyes again. He thought of everything good that Sirius was; everything that he loved about him. He was beginning to slip away again when he felt something press on the palm of his hand and heard a faint rustle. He opened his eyes in time to see Sirius' face twitch and heard him moan.

"Sirius!" Harry and Lupin exclaimed at the same time.

Sirius' eyes fluttered slowly open. He stared at Lupin first, squeezed his hand and then his gaze fell upon Harry.

He coughed slightly and breathed, "Harry?"

"Sirius . . ." Harry tried to answer. His throat did not seem to want to listen to his commands of speaking.

"Where am I?" his godfather croaked hoarsely. He was scanning the room with his eyes but no recognition came to them.

"You're back at Grimmauld Place, Sirius," Lupin told him.

Something frantic crossed Sirius' features. He made a motion as if to rise. "How--the Death E--"

"It's taken care of, Padfoot,' said Lupin lightly, placing his hand needlessly onto his friend's shoulder.

"What . . . happened?" Sirius murmured, his voice still hoarse.

"You remember being cursed?" Harry asked, unsticking his throat.

Sirius nodded slightly.

"You stopped breathing," Lupin told him after a moment. "I was able to revive you, obviously, and then you saw Dumbledore," Sirius nodded again with difficulty, "but Harry thought you we dead!" Sirius' head rolled on the pillow and his haunted eyes set themselves on Harry. Harry nodded, his eyes beginning to burn and the idea of losing Sirius.

Lupin told him everything that had happened but made eye contact briefly with Harry before telling very quickly of his encounter with Voldemort. Sirius seemed to want to say something but didn't have the strength. When they were finished, he clasped Harry's hand for a long time before he fell into a light sleep.

Harry left, closing the door softly behind him with Lupin at his side. He'd stayed in the room for a moment to "do something."

"Arabella will come up to look after him in a moment," he said to Harry. "He needs to sleep though."

Harry tried to say something in reply but his voice was lost in his throat. He was not heartened by Sirius' regain of consciousness but was filled with worry that if Sirius should die in the time between then and their next visit, he would not have said the goodbye he'd been aching to say.

"Sirius has been in worse shape than this before, Harry," said Lupin reassuringly. "He'll pull through!"

They headed down stairs.

Harry found Mrs. Weasley cooking what looked like soup when he came in and smelled beef.

"Hello, Harry, Remus," she said quietly, sounding like she had a head cold. "How is he?"

"He woke up," Lupin to her. "He's sleeping now and I contacted Arabella to come and look after him."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"She's sleeping upstairs," Mrs. Weasley told him. "You should go up and sleep too, Harry. You look peaky."

Harry left obediently; he didn't want to talk to people at the moment. He headed upstairs and settled himself in the room he and Ron had shared during the summer and winter holidays. He tried to close his eyes, but it was no use. He was so tired, but his mind would not agree to sleep, not with Sirius so ill overhead. But he felt himself fall unwillingly into the dreamless sleep of absolute exhaustion. . . . .

"Harry? Harry get up!"

"Noooo!" Harry groaned into the pillow. The bed was warmer and more comfortable than he could remember it being last summer.

"C'mon Harry," said Ginny's voice, which was almost comical. "Mum said that she orders you to come eat dinner!"

"Orders me, eh?" Harry muttered as he sat up, disentangling himself from pillows and blankets.

Ginny giggled. "I think that she thinks just because we fought the Death Eaters and all, that we're starved too!"

"Well, how long has it been since we ate?" asked Harry.

"That's not the point!" scoffed Ginny, her eyes twinkling.

"What is it then?"

She threw up her hands in disgust. "Harry, it was a jo--you're so--so--"

"What's taking you two so long?" asked Fred, who stood in the doorway. He was wearing a bright green, scaly jacket. There were two trunks floating behind them. Fred sent his away to Ginny's room, while Fred swept his into the room.

"Fred! George!" cried Ginny. "You--how's business?"

"Booming!" cried George, bounding into the room. "We had to treat ourselves." He gestured to the jacket.

"Heard you got yourselves into a bit of trouble while we were gone," said Fred, letting the trunk fall onto Harry's bed.

"Children after our own hearts," said George proudly, placing his hand over his own. Harry didn't reply.

"Dinner!" rang Mrs. Weasley's voice up the stairs.

"So how's Sirius?" asked Fred, rather seriously as the group exited.

"He woke up," Harry told him. "He's still really ill though."

"So we've heard," said George, uncharacteristically solemn.

Mrs. Weasley was setting the table when they entered. Also, there four people sitting at it. Kingsley was scribbling quickly on a long roll of parchment in dark purple ink, while Dung tried unsuccessfully to sneak his pipe from under his cloak. As Mrs. Weasley began to scold him like a child, Harry looked at Emmeline Vance, who was laying plates before everyone. Moody was drinking deeply from his hip flask.

"'Lo," said Dung, as Mrs. Weasley walked away, fuming.

"Hi Dung," said Fred brightly, walking over to him.

"Don't start talking about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes now!" cried Mrs. Weasley.

Obviously she was still furious that her sons had quit school to start a joke shop, but she seemed resigned to the fact that there was nothing she could do to stop them. The topic did not come up again that night. They were having stew again tonight. He was glad of this. He wasn't sure he could get anything else to go down his throat.

Lupin walked in.

"Does he want any?" asked Mrs. Weasley. "Can he . . ."

"No," Lupin told her. "Says he just wants to sleep."

Harry had never even heard of Sirius saying anything like this. He looked down at his soup. Suddenly, he felt like he was trying to eat mud. Lupin put a hand on his shoulder.

Harry didn't remember what he did in reply, whether he grinned, or simply tried to take another gulp of soup. They somehow got through dinner and Harry pushed his almost untouched dish away gratefully. Mrs. Weasley ordered that they go to bed again because if they didn't their sleeping cycles would be in disarray. Ginny and Harry departed with Fred and George, but were left alone after the twins Apparated to their bedrooms, cackling at something as they looked at the two students behind them.

"They're always a bit odd," said Ginny. "Funny, but odd."

Harry agreed. They bid one another good night and separated into their rooms. Harry had barely laid down in bed when he was asleep, making up for his lack of dwelling on Sirius in his dreams, where he struggled to get to his godfather, but failed at each attempt, high-pitched laughter ringing in his ears. . . .

He sat bold upright. He knew immediately that he would not be able to go back to sleep. He had to see Sirius. Harry took out the Weasley jumper he'd been given last Christmas. Pulling it on, he tiptoed into the drafty hallways of number twelve Grimmauld Place. He crept almost silently up the stairs and made it to the door dividing him and Sirius. He put his ear to the door and heard nothing. So, taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Harry had thought that Sirius was sleeping, but the moment the door closed behind him, he opened his eyes and turned his head slowly in Harry's direction.

"Harry . . .?" he breathed. His voice was weak.

"Sirius," Harry replied. "You--how are you feeling?"

"Felt better," Sirius admitted.

He had a hand outstretched. Harry sat down on the bed and took it. Something was flickering across Sirius' face.

"He told you . . .?" he whispered.

"Yeah," said Harry. "Dumbledore told me everything."

"You want to . . .?" Sirius asked, not finishing his question, a crease between his eyebrows in concern for his godson.

"No," Harry told him, almost flatly. "I--I came here to see you."

Sirius coughed. A grin spread slowly over his face. "Not . . . much to--see. . . ."

Harry looked down at the sheets, unsure how to voice his feelings and he didn't even know if he should. "I--Sirius, I was so worried about you!"

Those haunted, pale gray eyes gazed up at him, and the grin faded ever so slightly from Sirius' face.

"Harry," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere!"

Harry got up early the next morning, snuck into the kitchen and stole a few pieces of buttered toast. He went upstairs again to get dressed, but got an enormous shock to find three owls, each from Ron, Hermione (who said she was going to tell Luna) and Neville, all letters asking the same, one-lined question: How's Snuffles?

Some kind of warmth burned in Harry's heart and quill as he replied to Ron, telling him to tell the others that he and Ginny were fine and assured them that Sirius on the mend. After he sent off the owls, he shoved a considerable amount of toast into his mouth. Carrying what remained of his breakfast upstairs, Harry entered Sirius' room with renewed spirits.

When he entered, he found Sirius propped up in bed on pillows and watching Mrs. Weasley rant at him with some interest. His godfather was still extraordinarily pale, and seemed more drained than he had last night, but he winked at Harry, who stood frozen by the door, the pieces of toast in his hand. It sounded like Mrs. Weasley had found Sirius sleeping in his dog form when she'd walked in. He couldn't see what was wrong with this before he heard pieces of her ramble.

"Could have lost all of your strength!" she said, her voice close to yelling, but the sight of her victim weakened in bed seemed to prompt Mrs. Weasley to control herself. "That takes too much magic! If you'd--you could have gotten worse--"

"But I'm fine, Molly!" said Sirius exasperatedly. "Besides, I can't sleep with it--"

"Just drink some tea!" Mrs. Weasley puffed. Harry almost expected smoke to come out of her ears.

She poured him a mug and Sirius drank, seemly relieved that the scolding had stopped. Harry sat down at the edge of his bed, grinning. Lupin was laughing at his friend's expense and Sirius scowled at him. Harry spent much of the day with Sirius, and Ginny came in at about midday.

"How're you feeling, Sirius?" she asked, Fred and George following.

"Fine," he answered. Everyone looked at him, including Harry. Sirius chuckled. "Better than last night, anyway."

The day was definitely much happier than the previous one. They had some sandwiches made by Mrs. Weasley, but none of the adults were there except for Sirius, who didn't seem to be hungry anymore and was ordered to sleep. Their entire lunch was spent listening to the prosperity of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and how Dung's business was blossoming because of it. Harry and Ginny weren't sure if they should be happy about this until the three assured them that almost all of the things Dung was trading to them was legal. Almost.

At some times in the day, it seemed impossible to Harry that he had fought off Death Eaters and encountered Voldemort less than forty-eight hours ago. There were many times when he was able to completely forget about the year's events and feel that he was spending the summer at Grimmauld Place. That is, until he received the one of funniest letters he'd gotten in his life.

Dear Harry,

Dumbledore brought Umbridge back from the forest. She's in the hospital wing with us right now. I can write this letter a little more freely, but not really. Dumbledore said that I could write this. She's been lying there, brooding. Madam Pomfrey says that there's nothing physically wrong with her--it's just shock. But Ron, Luna, Neville and I know that she's just furious that we outsmarted her.

The writing had trembled here, as though Hermione was laughing.

I don't know how Dumbledore did it. He just came out of the forest supporting Umbridge and didn't say anything to anyone. We even asked him, but he said that he had to get back to his studies. If he comes to London, make sure and ask him. Is Snuffles doing better? He must still be ill. Neville said that he got hit with the same curse I did, and with everything else that happened to him. I mean, Neville said that the got thrown against a wall! Tell him hi for us. Luna and Neville are worried about him too.

By the way, Ron is making these clip clopping noises at Umbridge. He's doing it now.

The writing was trembling slightly again. Harry began to chuckle.

Every time he does it, she sits up and starts making a fuss. She thinks it's the centaurs! I can't imagine them torturing her or anything, but I hope it was really awful! I hope to see you soon. If you're not here by the end of the year, I'll see you at you know where.

Hermione

PS Ron's doing it again!

Harry handed the letter around the table and everyone began to laugh.

"What's so funny?" asked Lupin, coming into the kitchen, obviously having finished whatever he'd gone out to do.

They gave him the letter and some sort of victory flashed across his face.

"I was wondering what he was doing," he said after a while.

"You went to Hogwarts?" asked Fred incredulously.

"To get some potions for Sirius," said Lupin. "Poppy--I mean--Madam Pomfrey is now apart of the Order. I successfully recruited her today. I was her patient enough for her to know me well."

"Did Hermione or Ron say anything?" Ginny asked.

"They all say hello to all of you," answered Lupin. "And Ron was taunting Umbridge. I didn't have the slightest clue what he was doing until I read this letter!"

Harry laughed, imagining Ron and Umbridge. Lupin was rereading the letter.

"You two don't need to go back to school," he said Ginny and Harry. "Dumbledore told to me to tell you that. The only thing is, Harry, that you'll have to go to the Dursley's for a week or two, just to see them." He gave Harry a meaningful stare. "Then we'll come and get you."

Harry felt himself agree. "Just for two weeks?" he asked.

"Ten days," replied Lupin.

"Okay," he said. "Just as long as I don't have to spend my birthday with them."

"We'd object at that Harry," said Fred. Lupin grinned.

Harry and Lupin headed upstairs to see if Sirius was sleeping or not to find him wide-awake and reading. Harry could tell that Lupin was fighting the impulse to ask his friend if he had slept at all.

"How're you feeling?" Harry asked.

"Much better," Sirius said.

He sat upright without being supported by pillows but gasped and clutched his ribs. Harry and Lupin were already at his side. Sirius was trying feebly to sit up on one elbow.

"Lay back, Padfoot," ordered Lupin. He laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"I'm fine, Mo--"

"Sirius."

Sirius did as he was told, but it wasn't like he had much choice. He slumped against his pillows. For about an hour, he was playfully moody. But the company made this rather difficult. Later, Fred and George entered, munching on sandwiches.

Sirius gave an anxious glance around, looking for Mrs. Weasley, before he said, "How's the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes coming?"

"Excellent," said Fred proudly.

"Exceptional," said George.

"Superb," said Fred.

"Brilliant," exclaimed George.

"Marvelous," Fred said.

"Tremendous," said George.

"Exquis--"

"We get the point," snapped Mrs. Weasley's voice.

Sirius sank in his bed, Harry looked at his hands, Fred and George didn't seem to really care, Ginny hid her face behind her hand and Lupin smiled at her.

"Hello Molly," he said cheerfully.

But Mrs. Weasley seemed agitated.

"What's up, Mum?" asked George.

"It's . . . nothing . . ." she said, looking away. "I just came to check on Sirius. . . ."

"Thank you, Molly," said Sirius courteously. He seemed somewhat concerned, as though he knew something that the others didn't. A clue to why she was angry. And by the look of it, she didn't want him to know.

After Mrs. Weasley left, Lupin looked at his friend. "You know something, Padfoot."

Sirius nodded glumly. He glanced at the Weasley children, who were watching him curiously. "Percy."

George's fists clenched, Fred's face screwed up in disgust and Ginny looked at the ground to hide her reaction, which Harry guessed was very much alike her brothers'.

"She went to go talk to him," Sirius explained. "Since the news is out, she thought that it would be a good idea to try and make peace . . . again."

"Why?" growled George.

"Yeah," said Fred. "He's done enough damage."

"How could do that stuff to Mum and Dad?" said Ginny in a small voice. George put an arm around her.

"Look," said Lupin, rather quietly, "I know you're angry at Percy--" Fred opened his mouth irritably, "and you have full right to be! But he is your brother. I know that you love him. That is probably one of the reasons you are so furious with him."

"It won't be easy to pardon him," added Sirius. "But, eventually, you will both see that you do care about each other and you will find it in your hearts to forgive."

The Weasley's were silent.

"I'm still so mad at him!" confessed Ginny.

Lupin crossed to put a hand on her shoulder. "We can all understand why. Like Sirius said, it won't be easy. But it will come in time."

That night they ate another rich stew, in which Mrs. Weasley was not included. Dung showed up, along with Moody and Tonks. In fact, Sirius even had a bite or two. Harry went bed early with the rest. He could tell that, through the laughing and storytelling of Umbridge, the Weasley's were thinking about what Lupin and Sirius had said.

Tonks accompanied them up to the first floor. She seemed much better than the last time Harry had seen her. She was grinning and the stairs were a breeze for her, except for the usual trip. Harry separated from them into his room. He laid down to the first night in a year of dreamless sleep. . . .

"Harry!" someone was hitting him with a pillow. "Harry! Get up! You've got to come down stairs!" The person gave him one last whack. "Hurry!"

Harry got groggily out of bed, pulled on a jumper and flashed down the stairs after someone with bright red hair, whom he supposed to be Ginny. He arrived, panting in the kitchen. Moody was smiling at him and Tonks was helping Mrs. Weasley cook bacon, eggs, and toast. Fred and George were reading the newspaper with their heads together. They finished the moment Harry looked at them.

"What is it?" he asked, wondering if this had been a rather creative way of getting him out of bed.

Laughing, George threw the paper at him. Confused, but not for long, Harry read the addition of the Sunday Prophet.

HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED RETURNS

In brief statement Friday night, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge confirms that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is active once more.

"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself, Lord--well, you know who I mean--is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe that the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord--Thingy."

"We urge the magical population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense that will be delivered free to all Wizarding homes within the coming month."

The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the Wizarding community, which was recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."

Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, thought it is believed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry into the Ministry itself on Thursday evening.

Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, was unavailable for comment last night. He has insisted for a year that You-Know-Who was not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the Boy Who Lived--

Harry laughed too. "I was wondering if they were going to mention me!"

"Yes," said George. "You're a right little hero in there."

"Not a madman!" Harry spluttered through cracking ribs. He didn't know why this was so funny. He would have given anything for this article last week, but now, it really didn't seem to matter. He was content.

"What's so funny?" said a gruff voice behind him.

The whole room turned to see Sirius, leaning heavily on Lupin, smiling widely at him. Moody jumped to pull out a chair and help him sit down next to Harry, who handed him the paper.

"Hmm," he said, a grin spreading across his gaunt face. "'A lone voice of truth . . . perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story . . . forced to bear ridicule and slander . . .' Harry, you seem to be a new person. I wouldn't be able to tell they were talking about the same person from five days ago!" Everyone smiled. "'You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to four, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine . . .' That would be from the Quibbler, would it?"

Harry took the article, scanned it, and then said, "Yeah. I suppose Luna's Dad sold it to them."

Mrs. Weasley placed a bowl of bacon, eggs, and a roll in front of each. Harry dug into his food while Sirius began nibble, holding his stomach. Harry understood that eating probably wasn't very easy because of Bellatrix's curse and the internal damage it must have done. The doorbell rang and Mrs. Black began to scream. Sirius made to get up but seemed to realize that he couldn't. Lupin rose instead.

After a moment, the screaming stopped and Harry could hear speaking up above. Harry had begun to eat again when the door cracked open cautiously. The slow creaking of the hundred-year-old door hinges caused everyone to turn. Percy Weasley's head appeared in the doorway.

"Erm . . ." he was looking at his mother, who had turned and frozen. He gazed slowly at his brothers and little sister, but kept his eyes averted from Harry. "I . . . I'm . . . Dumbledore said . . . Dumbledore--he was right and . . . I'm sorry."

There was silence. Harry didn't move. He simply gazed at Percy, unable to process his apology. Sirius didn't move either. And then Ginny stepped forward, opening her arms wide.

"Come on in, Percy!"

The End