Seo Gerecednis

It took a united effort from Harry and Lupin to move the cow out of the shed and into the yard. First they tried pushing it, but soon discovered that not only do cows not like to walk backwards, but also that they are enormously heavy and rather difficult to move, especially when the movers happen to be a slight sixteen-year-old boy and an only marginally sturdier aged-beyond-his-years werewolf. So then they tried shouting and waving their arms at the cow. This only succeeded in getting it to turn around--a good thing, as it was now facing the direction they wanted it to go--but then it, no doubt disturbed by all the shouting and arm-waving, lifted its tail and dropped a large, steaming pile of manure on top of the tin of chrome polish. This act of bovine defiance elicited even more shouting (and a great deal of cursing) from Harry, who had managed to get his foot caught beneath the cow's right front hoof. At last, with the realization that all other options had been exhausted and Harry's yelling was getting more frantic by the second, Lupin pulled out his wand and sent a stream of sparks at the cow's rump. The cow promptly took off with an offended bellow.

"Are you all right?" Lupin asked. All Harry could do was hop up and down, holding his injured foot and swearing so profanely even Ron was shocked.

"Blimey," Ron said, his eyes wide. "Where'd you learn words like that?" Harry just continued hopping and cursing. "Morning, Professor," Ron said to Lupin. "Didn't know you were coming."

"I came to check on the wards Professor Dumbledore and your dad put up last night."

"Oh." He glanced over his shoulder. "Say, could you give us a hand here? We're having some trouble rounding up these ruddy cows."

Harry had managed to stop hopping around on one foot by then, and had reduced the volume on his oaths, but a skilled lip reader would have been scandalized by what he continued to mutter under his breath. He hobbled out of the shed behind Ron and Lupin.

The Weasleys' yard was a scene of utter chaos. Cows of all sorts roamed freely, some trampling the vegetable garden, some eating Mrs. Weasley's beloved irises, and many of them leaving deposits all over the yard. The gnomes seemed to be playing a rather dangerous game of chicken as they ran pell-mell between the legs and under the bellies of the huge beasts; some of the more adventurous ones were attempting to help themselves to the contents of full udders, cheekily oblivious to flying hooves and turds. In the midst of all the madness stood Ginny like a harbor in a storm, her face flushed with exhilaration. With her wand she gently prodded the cows into some semblance of order. She looked up as the boys approached and waved gaily at them.

"What happened?" Harry asked Ron, gingerly placing his injured foot on the ground.

"Stupid bloody git," Ron said. He jerked his chin in the direction of the porch, where Mrs. Weasley was apparently giving Peter a piece of her mind. Peter, for his part, didn't look at all perturbed by the tongue-lashing, which only stoked her fury even more.

"What'd he do?"

Ron snorted. "According to Loo--er, Luna--he stole all these cows from our neighbors." He jumped to the side, narrowly avoiding a rather large pile. "Urgh."

"He what?"

"Stole them. Got up this morning and decided he needed a herd of cows."

"Whatever for?" Harry watched Lupin help Ginny herd the cows into a nearby paddock. They shared a laugh as Lupin locked the gate with his wand.

"How would I know? Bloody nutter." He shook his head. "What were you doing out here so early anyway? I woke up when I heard Mum yelling and you were gone."

Harry shrugged. "Just needed some time to myself." He glanced at Ron, anticipating his next question. "I'm fine."

He seemed satisfied and let the matter drop, to Harry's relief. "Okay."

They met up with Lupin and Ginny halfway to the house. Mrs. Weasley and Peter had gone inside, but Luna waited on the top step, wearing a dressing gown that looked like it may have once been a carpet. "We could have fresh milk, you know," she said rather dreamily, her gaze focused somewhere far away as she twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "And butter, and cheese, and...." She stopped and looked at Lupin. "I remember you. You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts my second year. You were a good teacher. Why didn't you come back?"

Harry saw Ginny vainly smother a laugh and chuckled himself. Ron let out an aggrieved sigh and stomped up the steps. "C'mon, mate, I'm starving. All this chasing after cows has worked up an appetite."

"What?" Ginny spluttered as she and Harry followed him inside. "All you did was say 'bloody hell,' then went looking for Harry." She slid into a chair opposite her brother. "Lazy git. You didn't even take out your wand."

"Well, someone had to stay back and supervise."

"Some supervisor you are." She pointed her finger at Harry. "You better not let him get away with this at Quidditch practice."

"What makes you think you're even going to be on the team again?" Ron said. "If you're going to be Chaser, you have to try out." Ginny's lips pursed and her jaw clenched, and Harry saw a storm brewing behind her eyes.

"Speaking of which," he said, hoping to head this row off at the pass, "should we have a go at teaching Peter to fly today?"

"Sure," Ron said, "but I've got to have a shower first." He wrinkled his nose. "I'm starting to offend myself."

Luna came inside then and headed for the stairs. "Is Professor Lupin joining us for breakfast?" Ginny asked.

"No," she said, continuing up the stairs, her voice becoming more vacant as she ascended. "He said he had some business to take care of."

Harry, Ron and Ginny raised their eyebrows in unison. "He must be on duty," Ginny said in a low voice so Luna wouldn't overhear.

"Where's the headquarters?" Harry asked. "I mean, if they can't use Grimmauld Place anymore...."

"No idea," Ron said as he poured brown sauce over his eggs. "They're all being very secretive about the whole thing. Even Fred and George!"

"Yeah," Ginny said glumly, stabbing her spoon into her porridge. "The two people we thought we could count on to keep us informed, and they turn out to be just as bad as Mum!" She gave her porridge another half-hearted stab, then shoved her chair away from the table. "I'm not all that hungry. I'll meet you out in the yard."

Harry watched her go. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Ron shrugged. "Who knows? Girls. I'll go spare before I figure them out, I know that much."

"Could she be upset about Dean? I mean," he hastened to add when Ron gave him a curious look, "you did say he was going to be in Japan this year."

Ron chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. "Could be. The odd thing is --" he leaned close and lowered his voice "-- I'm not all that sure they were really ever, you know, a couple." He sat back with a smug look.

"You never caught on to Michael Corner either, remember?"

He grunted in reply and took another bite of eggs. Harry snickered and shoveled the last of his bangers into his mouth. When Ron looked questioningly up at him as he stood, he said, "Going to get my broom. I haven't flown in months, and I don't want to wait another second."

Ginny was already in the air practicing swoops and dives when Harry galloped outside, his Firebolt vibrating eagerly. He mounted the broom and took off like a rocket. Air rushed past him as he hugged the Firebolt, making himself as small and streamlined as possible as he zoomed past Ginny, then made a sharp about-face and zoomed past her again in the opposite direction.

"Show off!" she yelled, laughing.

He came to an abrupt stop and turned again to face her. She lowered her stance. He did the same. She made a face. So did he. Then, as one, without a single word having been spoken, they took off toward each other at top speed. To a bystander on the ground, collision would have seemed inevitable. But at the last possible second Harry made a steep ascent and Ginny performed a Sloth Grip Roll so that only the air currents generated by their reckless face-off crashed together, creating a small maelstrom in their passing.

Harry shouted with joy as he did a 360-degree loop. He had forgotten how wonderful it felt to fly. This, he thought as he did a series of tight corkscrews, was the best part about being a wizard. Laughing, her hair flying loose behind her, Ginny coasted to a stop beside him.

"I'll race you," she said, pointing to a grove of trees in the distance. "There and back."

"For what?" he asked with a grin, raising the stakes. He'd noticed that she'd nicked Ron's Cleansweep instead of using Charlie's old Comet as she usually did. The Cleansweep wasn't as fast as his Firebolt, but it still put up a good fight.

"Hmmm," she said as she thought, the corners of her eyes crinkled with mischief. "How about...getting rid of what the cows left behind...without magic?"

He looked down at the dozens of mounds covering the yard. "You got yourself a bet," he said. "On three?"

"Three!" she shouted and took off.

"Hey!" Caught off guard, Harry zoomed after her. She looked over her shoulder at him and stuck out her tongue, then flattened herself until rider and broom were nearly indistinguishable.

"You're not going to let yourself get whipped by a Cleansweep, are you?" he said to his broom.

Almost as if it had heard and understood, the Firebolt accelerated until the ground below was nothing but a muddled blur of greens and browns. Harry squinted against the wind, but the tears came anyway. Ginny's hair whipped wildly like an out-of-control bonfire just ahead of him. She was so close he could almost reach out and grab the bent twigs used to steer the broom.

Just as he was about to overtake her, she veered into his path, forcing him to brake suddenly. "Ginny!" he yelled. When she looked over her shoulder at him again, Harry knew from the look on her face that this was no longer a simple race between friends. She was out for blood--his blood. He found the idea rather disturbing, yet at the same time it invigorated him. He wasn't one to give in; he was prepared to give as good as he got. His jaw clenched in determination, he coaxed his Firebolt to fly even faster, until once again he was right behind her. Before she could block him again, however, he dove at a shallow angle, using gravity to bring him forward. Once he was nearly parallel with her, he pulled up on his broomstick and ascended again.

Ginny was ready and waiting for him. She swerved sharply, ramming into him and nearly knocking him off his broom. He barely managed to tighten his grip in time before righting himself. Two can play that game, he thought grimly, steering into her flight path. Once again she anticipated his move and ascended just in time to avoid him. Cursing under his breath, he flew beneath her then ascended, knocking her from below. She swore profanely, swatting at him with one hand while holding on for dear life with the other. Jerking his broomstick to the left Harry broke free, upsetting her balance even more. He then flattened himself against the Firebolt and took off, flying faster than ever.

She came after him like a thing possessed. He swerved one way, then the other, to block her path. Then she feinted a move to the right, and when he moved to stop her she veered sharply left and pulled alongside. Harry glanced at her as she raced neck and neck with him, wondering what could make her so determined not to spend the afternoon shoveling cow manure. Other than the obvious, that is.

The halfway point was just ahead. He braked carefully, preparing to turn, wondering what new tricks Ginny still had hidden up her sleeve. She flew like a Slytherin, he thought darkly.

He wasn't prepared for the flock of crows--probably the same flock they'd disturbed on his arrival yesterday--that erupted from the trees as he and Ginny flew past. Apparently, neither was she. Fortunately for both of them the pond lay directly below, otherwise they might have been seriously hurt by the fall.

Harry emerged from beneath the surface of the slime-covered pond with algae dripping from his hair down the back of his neck and inside his shirt. Mud oozed into his trainers as he slogged to the nearest bank. A pair of round amber eyes stared at him unblinkingly from the reeds, then disappeared with a croak and a splash.

"Shut it, you," Harry muttered at the bullfrog. He squelched up the bank and sat down with a soggy grunt. Muddy green water poured out of his trainers when he pulled them off and upended them.

He looked up at the sound of water lapping against the bank to see Ginny splashing her way toward him. Tendrils of algae were intertwined with her heavy, water-logged hair, making her look like a Yuletide water nymph, or a very festive, hacked off banshee. Her wet clothes clung to her; if he were in a better frame of mind, Harry might have taken the time to admire the view. Instead, he took off his glasses and tried in vain to dry them on his shirt. He only succeeded in smearing the water and algae across the lenses. Ginny sat down on a nearby log with a disgruntled splat.

Harry turned on her. "Just what the hell did you reckon you were doing?" he snapped.

She peeled off a sock to squeeze the water out of it. "I don't know what you're on about."

He pulled a clump of algae from the back of his neck and threw it to the ground. "Who were you trying to kill more, me or yourself?"

"I wasn't trying to kill anyone. What makes you think I was?"

He knew she was deliberately not looking at him, which only made him madder. "What? What makes me--?" He gestured at the sky, where the two riderless brooms hovered in limbo. "What do you call that?"

"What do I call what?" she said evenly, wringing the excess water from her hair.

He was so angry he wanted to throttle her. "That...that!" He couldn't even find the words to tell her what he thought of her reckless disregard. "Up there!" He pointed again at the sky. "Just who the hell do you reckon you are?"

He realized almost immediately that he'd either crossed the line or fallen headfirst into the trap she'd set for him. With a fluid grace that surprised him she pulled out her wand and pointed it directly at him. "Let's get one thing straight," she snarled. "I may be a lot of things, but one thing I'm not is a pushover!"

"A-a what?" he backpedaled.

"You heard me. You may have been the youngest Quidditch player in a century, but when you got your sorry arse booted off the team I'm the one who had to fill your shoes, and I'm the one who helped Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup!"

Harry cringed as she advanced, her wand still pointed at him. "D-d'you still want to be Seeker?" he asked timidly. Never, not in a million years, would he have expected this.

Her shoulders drooped slightly, but she didn't relent. "No. I told you that I'd rather be a Chaser, and I meant it. But I am not about to let you and my ruddy brother push me around as if I was eleven all over again!" Her eyes flashed dangerously.

"What makes you believe we would do that?" He spread his hands in helpless ignorance. "I don't --"

"Bloody hell you don't," she spat. "If you'd had your way, I'd never have been allowed to help you look for Sirius --"

Furious, Harry leaped to his feet. "That's not fair."

"It's the truth!"

Harry just glared at her, his blood boiling just beneath the surface of his skin, his gut clenching spasmodically. He wasn't about to admit that she was right, that he hadn't wanted her to go to the Ministry. But he knew, instinctively, there was something else bothering her, something other than Quidditch or the debacle in June that had to be setting her off like this.

"Is this about Dean?" he blurted without thinking. "Is that why you're so mad at me?"

Her brow furrowed and she lowered her wand a fraction of an inch. "What?"

"Dean. He's in Japan, right?"

"Yeah. So?"

Harry huffed in annoyance. "So he's your boyfriend, isn't he?" Too late he recognized the snarl in his voice when he said "boyfriend."

Judging from the sharp look she gave him Ginny must have heard it as well, but she seemed unsure what to make of it. "No, you dolt, he'd not my boyfriend!"

He felt sick, as though he'd ingested too much pond water. "He's not? But --"

"I just said that to get Ron off my back! In case you haven't noticed, he's got this idiotic idea that you and I should be --" Her face turned crimson and she clapped a hand over her mouth with a cry of dismay.

Harry's cheeks felt warm. She knew about that? He groaned. "So then why are you trying to murder me on my broom? Maybe you should be going after Ron." He tried to smile, to lighten the mood, but he could just imagine how false it must have seemed.

"Because you won't stand up to him and tell him to sod off."

Harry snorted. "I tell him that at least once an hour. Do you think he listens to me?"

A ghost of a smile flitted across her face. "I'm fifteen, Harry. I can take care of myself. I don't need you or Ron or anyone else to protect me or find me a boyfriend or...or...anything."

"I can see that." He took a tentative step toward her. "But if you can truly take care of yourself, then you should be the one telling Ron to sod off." He took another step and reached out to pluck her wand from her hand. "Maybe you should put that away before someone gets hurt."

Her face paled, making her freckles stand out in sharp relief. "Oh bugger, Harry, I'm so sorry, I...I...." She took her wand back and stuffed it into her pocket. "I don't know what came over me, I just lost my temper, I got carried away....You do know I wouldn't have deliberately hurt you, don't you?" She gave him a worried look.

Harry smiled to reassure her. "It's not what you would've done on purpose I was worried about, it's what you might've done by accident." She laughed nervously and turned to head back toward the house. "Ginny, wait," he said quietly, laying his hand on her arm to stop her. "Is something wrong? Why did you lose your temper?"

She looked down at her feet, then back up at him shyly, and took a deep breath. "Can you keep a secret?" He nodded. She took a step closer and lowered her voice. "None of my brothers know about this. I only know because I was mucking about with the Extendable Ears last night after Dumbledore left and overheard Mum and Dad talking to Mad-Eye."

Not entirely aware of what he was doing, he reached up and plucked a reed from her hair. "What is it?"

She took another deep, shaky breath, then leaned close and whispered in his ear, "It's Percy. He's gone missing, and Mad-Eye thinks he's joined the Death Eaters."