The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Four: Diagon Alley

Harry decided to follow the advice in Sirius' letter, so that when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley announced a trip to Diagon Alley a few days later, he decided that he would take a trip to Zonko's joke shop as well as Madam Malkin's, Flourish and Blotts and the other shops that he had to visit for his school supplies. To his surprise, Ron nearly choked on his breakfast when Harry mentioned it on the morning of the trip.

"Harry, have you gone completely raving mad?" he asked, as Mrs. Weasley called out to Hermione and Ginny for the second time.

"Err..."

"Why on earth would you want to go to Zonko's for? We'll go to Fred and George's place," he declared. "Besides, me and Ginny promised that we'd drag Mum in there somehow."

"What does she think of the shop?" Harry asked, as Mrs. Weasley ushered a sleepy looking Ginny and Hermione into the kitchen.

"Well, she would have preferred it if they'd actually stayed at Hogwarts for their NEWTs," Ron said. "I mean, obviously. I think that she's just hoping that they'll grow up and invest in something other than jokes at some point."

"Fat chance of that," Ginny snorted over a spoonful of cereal. "I don't know if Mum's going to kiss you or kill you when she finds out you set Fred and George up with the money to start the shop."

Harry frowned at her.

"Fred told me when I was helping him test their Headless Hats last year," she explained.

"Oh, right," Harry replied.

"Did you not want me to know?" she asked.

"I didn't really think about it," Harry shrugged. "But that reminds me... I've been meaning to ask you, Ginny. Professor Dumbledore wants me to carry on with the DA this year."

"Good," she replied simply, taking a piece of toast and spreading it liberally with honey.

"So do you want to be in it again?" he asked.

"Of course," she replied. "I'd have probably been killed in the Ministry without everything you've taught me."

Harry frowned slightly. "That's just it," he sighed. "I don't want DA members thinking that they have to risk their lives for me."

"'Have to' doesn't come into it, Harry," Ginny replied. "I went with you because I wanted to, not because I felt that I had to. I'm sure that the other DA members feel the same. You're a leader, Harry. Not because you're the Boy Who Lived, but because you take the time to help people, because you're courageous, because you confront evil when you see it and because you do it without thinking. We'd all follow you, Harry, wherever you led us."

"If I have to face evil this year, I hope I do think first," Harry said, feeling a little uncomfortable at Ginny's words. "But thanks."

"My, we're all looking rather serious, aren't we?" Mrs. Weasley said as she brought a pan full of sizzling bacon over to the table. "I hope you'll all cheer up when we get to Diagon Alley."

*

Harry was delighted to discover that, along with Tonks and Professor McGonagall, Lupin had been assigned to accompany them to Diagon Alley.

"Dumbledore felt it best that my first assignment be as gentle as possible," he told Harry as they made their way through the Saturday shopping crowds to the nearest underground station. "I did try and tell him that I'd seen quite enough of you already this holiday, as you followed through on your threat of visiting me almost more than one might believe humanly possible, but he wouldn't have it."

Lupin smiled slightly as Harry grinned. Harry felt glad that Lupin was not only out of hospital, but able to joke and smile again. The time spent watching his former teacher in St. Mungo's had seemed far too long, although Lupin had never seemed to be disheartened by the experience or his injuries.

"Hey, you two, get a move on, we'll be late if we don't hurry," Tonks called back to them.

"Be right with you, Nymphadora," Remus called back easily. The immediate scowl on the young Auror's face made Harry and Remus smirk widely.

*

The ride on the underground only lasted a few minutes, but it was enough time for Harry to notice that Ron seemed nervous. Hermione, sitting next to Ron, had apparently noticed as well, for she kept shooting glances at him. Harry kept trying to catch Ron's eye, but his friend's gaze was fixed above Harry's head, on the diagram of stations that the train passed through. Harry thought that Ron was mouthing "Two stops left..." under his breath. Harry remembered that Ron had seemed out of sorts that morning, as well. He had woken up before Ron, and when he had tried to rouse him, he had refused to get out of bed until Harry left the room.

In fact...

"It's Percy," Ginny said quietly, from the seat to his left.

Distracted from his train of thought, Harry looked at her blankly, and then nodded in understanding. Percy was Ron and Ginny's older brother, and worked at the Ministry of Magic. Throughout the previous year, he had worked as an assistant to then-Minister Fudge, a position that had brought him into direct opposition with the rest of his family. Percy had argued with his parents over their support for Dumbledore and the Order and had left the Burrow on bad terms. Harry remembered that Percy had moved to London, and hadn't spoken a civil word to his parents since then.

"Hasn't he apologized yet?"

"Of course not," Ginny said, sadly. "Even Fudge admitted that he was wrong before he resigned. But Percy's too stubborn. Fred saw him in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago - that's where he's been living for the last year - but Percy walked right past him. Ron doesn't want to see him today, but he does want to see him, understand?"

Harry thought that he did.

"So Ron's nervous about what'll happen if he sees Percy, which he probably will as it's a Saturday."

Harry looked across the carriage at Ron, who was now mouthing "One stop left..." as they made their way to the nearest stop to the Leaky Cauldron.

Out in the sunshine, Ginny quickly linked arms with her brother and muttered a few words to him. Ron replied with a shake of his head, and tugged his arm free from his sister's. She looked cross for a second, but watched him strike out ahead of the rest of them without saying anything.

"Harry, do you know what's wrong with Ron?" Hermione asked, as Remus held the door to the Leaky Cauldron open for them.

"It's Percy," Harry replied, his eyes adjusting to the gloom of the dingy pub.

"What do you- Oh."

Hermione had seen him too.

Sitting at a table in the centre of the pub, looking as though he had just swallowed a cup full of undiluted Bubotuber puss, was Percy Weasley. Ron stood just inside the door, staring stony-faced at his brother. Harry and Hermione unconsciously moved to either side of their friend, ready to grab his arms if he made a lunge for his older brother, but Ron stood frozen in place, his face blank as he stared at his brother.

"Come along you three. What's holding you up?" Mrs. Weasley asked as she bustled through the door, her gaze fixed in her voluminous handbag as she hunted for something within its depths. She looked up. "Oh..."

Percy stood abruptly, slopping soup over the tabletop as his legs banged against it. He dug into the pocket of his robes and scattered a handful of bronze and silver coins onto the table before turning and striding wordlessly out of the main room of the pub, towards the back door that led into Diagon Alley.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Weasley. "I, I do hope..."

"Come along Molly," Professor McGonagall said briskly, placing an arm around Mrs. Weasley's shoulder and guiding her to the bar. "Remus, Nymphadora, will you see these four around Diagon Alley, please? Tom, a pot of tea, thank you."

Tonks and Remus were silent as they shepherded the four teenagers along in Percy's wake. A dark cloud hung over them as Remus tapped his wand on the wall behind the pub's dustbins which folded itself into an archway, allowing them access to Diagon Alley itself.

"Well, we all have our lists," Hermione said, brandishing the lists of books and supplies that McGonagall had given them that morning. "Gringotts first?"

Harry nodded, and trailed after Tonks as the blue-haired witch led the way through the hordes of people crowding the street. Remus and Tonks seemed alert to any danger in the fast-moving crowds, while Ginny, Ron and even Hermione seemed to have been afflicted with a heavy moroseness as a result of their encounter with Percy.

It had been three years since he had last visited Diagon Alley, and the tension from everyone in the area was palpable. Superficially, everyone was going about their business as normal, but Harry could see that people didn't linger. When they spoke to each other, the words were few in number and carefully chosen. Suspicious glances were exchanged with great frequency, and when a boy whom Harry recognised as a Ravenclaw seventh year conjured a bunch of flowers for his girlfriend with a loud pop, a dozen hands reached for their wands.

Harry shook his head, noticing that Ginny's hand had flown to her belt as well. Her wand was prominent, dangling from a clip at her hip. Hermione's was in the inside pocket of her lightweight jacket, a jacket she didn't need to wear in the July heat, but that she did because of the pocket. Ron's was strapped against his left forearm, the loose cuff of his shirt allowing an easy draw from a holster Bill had used in his charm-breaking work for Gringott's in Egypt.

Harry, like Hermione, kept his wand in the inside of his jacket, but his jacket was draped over his arm, and it would have taken valuable seconds to draw it. However, he didn't mind. He didn't want to become like Mad-Eye Moody, the weathered ex-Auror who saw enemies everywhere. Remus had given him some Dark Arts history books that covered the period of the previous war with Voldemort, and the Death Eaters had never been known for striking where their enemies were strong. An attack on Diagon Alley was unlikely, Harry thought, and while it was good to be cautious, he didn't intend for Voldemort - or the prophecy - to dominate his life to the degree that they had the year before.

I've had enough, he thought. Sirius was right. I have to live my life. I'm not Voldemort, I won't get a second chance.

As if to reaffirm his new belief, Cho Chang stepped from Gringotts into the sunlight. Harry caught his toe on the bottom step, but recovered without anyone other than Tonks noticing.

"Alright, Harry?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, looking away from Cho as she came down the steps.

"Friend of yours?" she asked, as Cho walked past, nodding coolly to the group.

"Not any more, I guess," he said.

"Break her heart?" Tonks grinned as they made their way up the steps.

"No," he said.

"Cheer up, Harry," Tonks said, her smile widening in a way only a Metamorphmagus could manage. "Bet she's not the last girl to dump you."

"She didn't-" Harry stopped, realising that his indignant outburst had attracted attention in the Gringotts' lobby. "She didn't dump me," he said quietly. "We broke up, alright? We had an argument about the DA. It was her friend who told Umbridge about us."

"Right, okay," Tonks said. "Seems like you'd better talk to her, though."

"What? Why?"

"Well, she's a pretty girl, Harry. You don't want her putting rumours about that you're a rubbish kisser or anything, do you?"

Harry blinked. It wasn't something that he'd even considered in passing.

"I... I dunno. Last year was a bit busy, to be honest. This year'll probably be even worse. I 'spect it won't even matter what people think about how I kiss."

Tonks grinned.

"You never know, Harry. Besides, I've never known any boy be too busy to snog a girl. Ginny told me that she walked in on her brother snogging once, and he got to be Head Boy."

*

The cart-ride through Gringotts cavernous vaults was as thrilling as ever. Despite the pilot goblin insisting that the carts had "One speed only," Harry knew that he had felt the acceleration as they approached the bends. Harry staggered happily from the cart to his vault where he scooped a few piles of golden Galleons and silver Sickles into his bag. Smiling widely, he made his way back to the cart, where Remus looked decidedly ill, and Ron and Ginny looked as happy as Harry did.

"You all right, Remus?" Ron asked cheerily.

Remus said nothing, instead staring fixedly ahead, white-knuckled hands clasped firmly on the framework of the cart.

"Just like Quidditch, isn't it Harry?" Ginny asked, as the cart set off again.

"Yeah, it is. It's brilliant," Harry replied, as the cart banked sharply around a corner.

"Are you coming back onto the team this year?" Ron asked, glancing back over his shoulder at Harry.

Harry frowned. "I've been banned, remember? A lifetime ban. Umbridge probably got Fudge to fix it up with the Quidditch League and everything."

"Nah, Dumbledore'll sort that out in two shakes of a first year's wand," Ron replied happily.

"Well, if there's a spot free..." Harry began uncertainly.

"'Course there is," Ginny said. "I don't want to be Seeker anymore and you're the best there's been since Charlie played for Gryffindor. Problem solved."

Harry smiled at the back of Ginny's head. Having her solving his problems was starting to become a habit. He wondered briefly if she'd be interested in sitting his NEWTs at the end of his seventh year.

The cart pulled up at the Weasley vault before Harry could think of a way of convincing Ginny and he lapsed into an uncomfortable silence with Ron as Ginny darted into the vault and back again far quicker than Harry had. The moneybag at her belt barely chinked as she sat back down.

*

Hermione, Tonks, Professor McGonagall and Mrs. Weasley awaited the four of them as they emerged, rather shakily, from the depths of the vaults. Lupin looked even paler in the well-lit trading area, and he was soon being fussed over by a calmer-looking Mrs. Weasley.

Harry trailed thoughtfully behind the others as they left Gringotts. His gaze settled on the back of Ginny and Ron's heads as they chatted with Tonks and Hermione. He didn't even notice Remus glance back at him in concern, nor did he notice Professor McGonagall and Remus falling into step either side of him.

"I used to see that look on James' face sometimes," Remus said, eyes sparkling.

"I remember," McGonagall said warily. "What are you planning, Potter?"

Harry blinked, and looked at the two adults. "Nothing, Professor."

"Then what's on your mind, Harry?" Remus asked softly.

"I-" Harry looked from one to the other, noticing that the three of them had become separated from the rest of the group as they stood in the middle of Diagon Alley. "Shouldn't we keep up with the others?"

"They won't have gone far," Remus said easily. "Now, you were saying?"

Harry pursed his lips, but he knew that McGonagall and Lupin were not likely to make fun of him.

"I want to do something for the Weasleys," he said, catching a glimpse of Ron's hair as the crowd parted before his tall frame. "I mean, they always take me in without complaining, and I never have anything to give back."

"Molly and Arthur don't want anything in return, Harry," Remus said. "They'd look after you no matter what was going on. You know that."

"I know," Harry said. "But I'd like to do something for them. Is there anything that they need, do you know?"

McGonagall frowned. "Potter, I imagine that Molly and Arthur would be quite embarrassed if you were to offer to pay for anything for them."

Harry's shoulders dropped.

"However..."

He looked up into his teacher's gleaming eyes.

"Miss Weasley, I understand, is almost certain to earn a spot on the team as a Chaser this year. Given your reinstatement-"

"I've been reinstated?"

"Heavens, yes!" McGonagall frowned. "Did I not tell you? I'm sorry, Potter. We only found out on the day of the attack on Birmingham. It must have been driven clean from my mind."

A weight Harry had barely been aware of seemed to lift from his heart. He felt reckless, and while he knew that indulging the feeling was something he would have to learn to control, felt that he could safely allow it this once.

"Ginny will need a better broom than that Cleansweep she was flying last year, won't she?"

"Indeed, Potter," McGonagall agreed. "And we may, of course, have to fund the broom of another Chaser if the successful candidate does not possess a broom of sufficient quality."

"Ginny's helped me a lot recently," Harry said. "I definitely owe her something. It'd make me feel better," he added, as Lupin opened his mouth again. His former teacher grinned and nodded.

"Quality Quidditch Supplies, then?" he asked. Harry nodded.

*

Lupin dashed ahead to catch up with the others while Harry and McGonagall, who insisted on walking rather closer to Harry than he felt totally comfortable with, made their way through the jumpy crowds. Harry spotted Nevile Longbottom and his grandmother in the crowd, just coming out of Ollivander's wand shop. Neville was peering critically at the wand he was holding, which Harry assumed was a replacement for his father's wand, which had been destroyed in the Department of Mysteries. Neville didn't seem entirely happy with the wand, which to Harry seemed rather shorter than his old wand, but he kept it in his hand, draping his coat over it to keep it hidden as he walked off beside his grandmother. Harry frowned a little at this, and looked up at McGonagall, who had watched the scene as well.

"Brave boy," she said, a little sadly. She kept one hand on Harry's shoulder the rest of the way through the crowd until the shopbell above them had jingled and they stood in the middle of the ear-splitting chaos that had enveloped Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Mr. Moran, over here!"

"Mr. Quigley, will you be using the broom in the tournament next week?"

"Mr. Krum!"

Harry's head whipped around as fast as an accelerating Snitch, and found himself staring into the dark, hooded gaze of Viktor Krum, star Seeker of the Bulgarian national Quidditch team and champion of Durmstrang school in the Tri-Wizard tournament that had been held at Hogwarts during Harry's fourth year. The two stared at each other in surprise for a few seconds.

"Harry Potter!" Krum called over the thronging crowds. "Harry Potter!"

The roar of the crowd in the shop - and, Harry realised with a grimace, a number of people who looked like journalists - stopped. Everyone in the shop swung around and stared at Harry, who wanted nothing more than to sink back into the crowd outside the shop and disappear. He tugged at the baseball cap he had worn at Tonks insistence, pulling the brim even further over his eyes and hiding his scar.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter!"

"Harry, over here-"

"Harry, what do you think of Fudge's resignation?"

"Mr. Potter!"

"Harry, have you heard-"

"-You-Know-Who-"

Harry stepped backward, eyes darting back and forth as cameras popped blindingly all around him.

"Enough!"

Viktor Krum stepped in between Harry and the reporters, scowling ferociously at them.

"This is an interview about Quidditch!" he snapped. His English had improved since Harry had last seen him, but his accent remained as thick as ever.

"If we are not to talk about the European Championships, then we will be leaving," Krum growled, indicating himself and two other men Harry recognised as members of the Irish and English national teams. "Are we understood?"

There was some mutinous muttering, but Quigley and Troy came and stood either side of Krum, further blocking Harry from view. One enterprising reporter who had tried to get a shot of Harry from under Krum's arm instead ended up with a shot of the England flag emblazoned on Quigley's chest. The crowd laughed as the photographer rebounded from the huge Beater's chest, and the tension in the room was broken.

Harry looked around the shop as the focus returned to the three Quidditch stars. One wall was lined with club and country Quidditch strips, another with padding, bats, and balls. An entire section was given over to Quidditch books - Harry decided to never mention to Ron that there were several copies of Flying with the Cannons in the bargain bin - but for Harry the most interesting section was the huge display of broomsticks. The section covered one-and-a-half walls and rose nearly thirty feet into the air. An assistant on a puttering Shooting Star hovered unsteadily next to the Nimbus display, leaning precariously forward as he reached for a gleaming Nimbus 2001. Harry turned away and scanned the hundreds of brooms available from dozens of different makers.

Some of these brooms were obviously not intended for Quidditch players - the Fulsome and Jones Omnibus model, designed for family use, could be as long as a train car and was sold in a bundle of five foot long sections that could be slotted together as the owner's family extended - while others were of such outlandish design that Harry couldn't quite make out what they were supposed to be for. Barely hearing a stifled yelp and meaty thump behind him, he looked more closely at a broom whose handle branched in two just above the brush. A tag hung from the end of one of the handles. Harry picked it up and read: Introducing the Cupid! Dad's Bluebottle too slow for you? Tired of sharing a Revolver with your friend and their partner? The Cupid is the answer to your every dream and wish. The first broom since the Aphrodite to feature a twin-handle configuration, the Cupid also comes with a top-of-the-line Cushioning Charm and a powerful Disillusionment Charm for those times when secrecy is a must.

"Of course, it is slow and handles like a dog," someone announced from behind Harry, making him jump. "And I haff found that young ladies vill often prefer a racing broom in any case."

Harry turned a questioning look upon Krum, who seemed to have escaped the mob of reporters.

"If you are after a broom for taking on a date, I vould imagine that your Firebolt vill be fine."

"Ah, no, I wasn't," Harry said, glancing back at the Cupid as realisation dawned. "Er, we came in to find a broom for one of the Gryffindor Chasers."

"Oh, vell, the new Nimbus 2010 is to be the broom of choice for Chasers at the European Championships this year, I think. But it is expensive. How much can you afford to spend on your Chaser?"

"That is up to Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall declared from behind Harry, making him jump for the second time in as many minutes. "Gryffindor will match whatever you pay."

"Something good, then," Harry declared. He had, at Tonks' insistence, finally read through the contents of Sirius' will the night before. He had a feeling that even the fastest broom wouldn't dent his new inheritance.

Despite five years of reading and rereading Which Broomstick? Harry had never quite appreciated how many good broomsticks there were. When he had been looking to replace his Nimbus 2000 during his third year, he had been aware that the Firebolt and Nimbus 2001 had been in an unaffordable class of their own, and all the others had seemed too similar in Harry's eyes for him to choose one of them with any degree of certainty. Since receiving his Firebolt, he hadn't paid much attention to the new brooms being made available, for the Firebolt had been years ahead of its time. Hermione had studied it extensively at one point, using it as an example of a product being by far the best in its class for an Arithmancy project.

With Krum by his side, and Professor McGonagall shadowing their every move, Harry began to truly appreciate the diversity of models available.

"- and this is the Comet 350. Not a bad broom, although more commonly used by Beaters. It is very stable, and has a reinforced Cushioning Charm to compensate for being hit by a Bludger," Krum said, nearly thirty minutes later.

Harry blinked, well aware that he had a glazed expression on his face. Krum was an authority on racing brooms, of that there was no doubt, but his passion was all-consuming, and his thick accent made it hard to completely grasp the differences.

"Er," Harry said at last. "Which do you think is the best broom for Chasers?"

Krum looked at him in mild surprise, and then leaned a little closer.

"I should say the Nimbus 2010, of course," he whispered. "And it is an excellent broom. But if I were a Chaser, I would want stability over everything else, and the 2010 is only second best for stability among the really fast brooms."

"What's best, then?" Harry asked.

"Your broom," Viktor replied.

Harry grinned. "The Firebolt? Really?"

"Even now, it is one of the finest brooms available, perhaps the finest. And these days it is much cheaper, of course. For three years, it has been the broom of choice for anyone with the choice, and although I am being paid a great deal of money to ride the Nimbus, if I were a Chaser then I think that I would have signed a deal to fly the Firebolt."

"Do you think the new Nimbus is a better broom for Seekers then?" Harry asked.

"It depends on the Seeker," Krum said, waving his hands vaguely in front of him. "You are smaller than I, and would probably travel faster than I on a Firebolt if we were to race them. The Nimbus gives me that little extra speed, at the expense of a little stability. Of course, I am heavier and so..."

Harry nodded thoughtfully as he tuned out Krum's lecture, and looked up at the rack in the far corner, where the Firebolts sat below the charm-protected Nimbus 2010s and Arrowhead V's. He didn't even need to look at Professor McGonagall. He remembered all to well what it had been like, the first time he'd flown on his own Firebolt.

"Yeah, we'll get her a Firebolt then," Harry said.

*

Harry and Professor McGonagall debated the finer points of the hundreds racing brooms, the England team's chances in the European Cup, Gryffindor's house team and Harry's chances of becoming an Auror. He had thought about the possibility of joining the ranks of the dark wizard catchers at length over the summer. At first, the idea had made him feel ill, but during the course of his weeks at Grimmauld Place, he had come to feel better about the idea.

"It will depend on your OWL results of course," McGonagall was saying. "We finally managed to talk the Gringotts goblins into letting Professor Flitwick access the vaults this morning with our new Defence teacher, as he's technically a Gringotts employee. We'll be up all night trying to get them marked, but you should receive your results sometime on Monday."

"There's no rush," Harry replied automatically. "Er," he added. "Can you do Hermione's first? I think she's ready to explode."

McGonagall smiled but said nothing as they approached Flourish and Blotts, where Hermione and Ginny stood talking with Remus and Tonks.

"We bumped into Bill," Ginny said at Harry's look of askance. "Mum took him and Ron in to get our books. She reckons that they can reach all the stuff on the top shelves. It's too crowded for everyone in there."

Hermione looked put out at being denied access to her favourite shop, although Remus was offering reassurances that they could return later in the day, once the main rush had died down a little. Tonks was unusually quiet, standing to one side of McGonagall. Harry noticed that the two women were looking in opposite directions, their eyes scanning the crowds. Harry sighed, finding his need to have three powerful wizards guarding him somewhat depressing. He stared absently at the heavily discounted copies of Wilbert Slinkhard's Defensive Magical Theory in the shop's window until the bell over the door jingled and Mrs. Weasley led her heavily laden sons into the bright sunlight.

Harry and Remus hastened forward to help Bill and Ron with their burdens, and soon there were four of them struggling with the books instead of just two.

"You know what?" Ron gasped. "Most of these are Defence books. The new teacher's a nutcase, I bet you anything."

"Ron!" Hermione sounded as scandalised as ever at Ron insulting a teacher.

"What?" Ron grunted. "Hermione, have you seen all these?"

"I must admit," Bill hissed between clenched teeth. "If I'd known I was going to end up carrying all these, I don't think I'd have assigned them all. Last time I listen to you, Remus."

Harry was watching Remus try and shrug despite the weight of the books he was carrying when the full meaning of Bill's words hit him. He peered around his stack of books at the oldest Weasley brother, noticing that Molly, Ron, Ginny and Hermione were all doing the same.

"You don't think what?" Ginny asked.

"You set these?" Ron's mouth gaped unflatteringly open as he stared at his brother.

"You're the new Defence teacher?" Hermione asked.

Bill shifted under their glares and reached up a hand to run through his unruly red hair, which he was wearing loose for the first time since Harry had known him. Unfortunately, in doing so, he completely lost control of the stack of books he was carrying and they crashed to the ground. He swore loudly which, even more than the collapse of the books, seemed to break Harry, Hermione and the other Weasleys out of their reverie.

"William Gideon Weasley!" Molly gasped.

"Sorry, Mum," Bill scrambled to pick up the books, not very well assisted by Tonks, who seemed to drop one for every two she picked up.

"Yeah, not in front of the students, Professor," Ron said, although Harry could tell from the look on his face that it was an automatic reply, as Ron was still goggling at his brother, who was scrabbling wild-haired and red cheeked for the books on the pavement. One in particular, which with a quick glance Harry noticed was sandwiched firmly in the middle of the other piles of books, seemed to be putting up a fight as Tonks tried to fetch it from under a bench.

"Bill, what's that book?" Harry asked, as no one else seemed capable of coherent speech quite yet.

"The Dark Book of Hexes," Bill replied, looking morosely at the torn cover of a heavy looking book. He glanced up at Harry. "From the same people who make The Monster Book of Monsters."

"I guessed," Harry replied. "How come you're teaching us this year, though?"

"Yes, William," Molly added, staring at him through narrow eyes. Bill flushed an even deeper red, if possible, and it struck Harry how akin to Ginny he was in that regard. "You didn't mention this before today, I notice."

"Well, I didn't know that I had the job until last night," Bill said, as Tonks crawled under the bench, wand drawn. Harry watched the Dark Book scuttle further back, just out of reach of Tonks' outstretched hand.

"Dumbledore called me on the Floo at the Burrow," Bill went on. "He asked me to come down here today to help out Professor Flitwick at Gringotts, and then head up to Hogwarts tonight to sign the parchments. I was going to tell you at lunch," he added quickly, at Molly's reproving glare.

"Well," she said, still sounding a little annoyed but obviously very proud of her son. "I'm sure that you'll do a wonderful job, dear. And I shouldn't worry about this curse they say is on the job."

An impish smile appeared on Molly's face, a most unusual expression that Harry at first didn't recognise. Then he realised that she was teasing her son, who looked a little put out.

"Mum, there's no curse on the job," he said. "Remus came through it okay, didn't he?"

"True," Remus said nonchalantly. "Of course, Professor Quirrell died, Gilderoy Lockhart's still at St. Mungo's, Moody's even more paranoid than ever - not that I blame him - and Dolores Umbridge hasn't been seen since leaving Hogwarts." Remus' eyes sparkled as he failed to entirely suppress a grin.

"Really?" Hermione asked, as Bill scowled. "No-one's seen Umbridge all summer?"

Lupin's face fell. "No, they haven't. She hasn't been to the Ministry, or St. Mungo's, anyway. No-one's answering at her home, so we don't think she's there."

"Who cares where she is?" Ron asked, his attention, like Harry's, more on Tonks' continuing struggles with the Dark Book. She was whacking the book now with the handle of her wand, but on the fifth strike her wand flew out of her hand and hit her on her nose with a sizzling sound. The Dark Book scuttled away until Professor McGonagall placed one foot firmly on it and picked it up. She tapped it once with her wand and it fell still. Tonks, meanwhile, struggled to her feet and appeared to now be staring curiously at her own nose, which was sporting a third nostril that was sprouting smoke rings.

"Ron, Hermione's right," Bill said, taking the Dark Book from McGonagall. "By all accounts she wasn't happy with the way things ended up last year, was she?"

"Well, she got tossed about by a herd of centaurs," Ron said indifferently. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer person, if you ask me."

"But if no-one's seen her..." Hermione sounded worried. Harry turned his attention, reluctantly, from Tonks and focused on his friend.

"We're looking for her," Bill said quietly. "Let's get back and have some lunch, shall we? I want to know what that package under Harry's arm is, for one thing."

Harry felt a blush of his own begin to rise as everyone turned away from Bill to stare at him.

*

"I don't bloody believe it!

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

"Bloody hell, Ginny!"

"William Gi-, Oh, I give up. Minerva, shall we get a pot of tea?"

"I..." Ginny tailed off as she stared at the Firebolt in front of her.

"You'd better make Chaser this year, or I'm having that off you," Ron grinned.

Ginny looked up at her brother, disbelief still evident on her face. She then turned to look at Harry.

"This is really for me?"

Harry nodded, glad that he was sitting back in the booth away from the candle, his face at least partly hidden by shadow. He still felt a little flustered, and Ginny's reaction wasn't helping him at all. She seemed to almost be on the verge of tears, although Harry thought - hoped - that they were probably tears of happiness.

"Why?" she asked.

Harry shrugged. "Chasers need fast brooms. Viktor Krum reckons the Firebolt's the best choice for them."

"Viktor?" Hermione asked, looking up sharply.

"Yeah, he's here, or he was, anyway. He was doing an interview about the European Quidditch championships," Harry said.

"Oh, he didn't say," Hermione said, almost casually. Harry watched her for several seconds, noticing that she seemed a little bit flustered.

"He's got to be busy," Ron said absently, admiring the Firebolt still. Harry had to admit that the brand new broom had a gleam to it that his own three year old broom no longer had. As he glanced at Ginny again, he resolved to polish his broom properly that night. "He had a match three days ago, and another one last week," Ron added

"I haven't heard from him in a while, actually," Hermione replied. Ron looked away from the broom for a second and opened his mouth, but he didn't say anything. Harry remembered Krum's comments about girls liking racing brooms, and clamped his own mouth firmly shut. It seemed that Krum and Hermione hadn't been dating over the previous year, as he had assumed.

"This must have cost a lot of money," Ginny said at last. "Did McGonagall really pay for it herself?"

"Er..." Harry began.

"Each house has a budget," Hermione replied, almost mechanically. She looked up from the table, and blinked, before continuing in a much more normal voice. "Money to spend on decorating, or supplies, or, well, broomsticks for the Quidditch team. But Ginny's right, a Firebolt is rather expensive, isn't it?"

"Not as much as it used to be," Harry said, feeling rather defensive. "It's come down a bit now that the new brooms are out."

"A bit?" Ginny asked. "If you say so, Harry."

Harry didn't want to look Ginny in the eye, but he found no respite as he looked away, either. Hermione was staring directly at him, her mouth a round 'O' of realisation. Ron and Bill were seemingly oblivious, fortunately. Harry frowned at Hermione, who quickly grabbed a menu and started to look at it. Harry looked back at Ginny, forgetting for a second that he didn't much want to meet her gaze. His eyes met hers but, instead of the insulted expression he'd feared seeing there, she appeared to actually be confused. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall arrived at that moment with Lupin and Tonks in tow, a platter of sandwiches and several drinks in their arms and the moment passed. Ginny set her Firebolt gently aside and the meal soon became a raucous affair typical of any meal where three or more Weasleys were gathered.

The broom was quickly forgotten, although Ginny and Hermione seemed to be having an unspoken conversation purely through glancing at one another around Ron and Remus' teasing of Bill, Tonks attempts to metamorphose her nose back into a two-nostrilled version and Molly and McGonagall's discussion of the OWL results. Harry found himself caught up in the last discussion and, perhaps because of this, it only seemed natural to look up and see Dumbledore emerging from the emerald flames flickering in the Cauldron's fireplace. One look at the Headmaster's stern visage, however, was enough to make Harry tense up and as Dumbledore approached, the table slowly fell silent. Harry noticed absently that the other diners in the Cauldron were falling quiet as well. He had a feeling that everyone was thinking the same thing.

An attack? Someone dead? Not one of the Weasleys, please...

"Good afternoon, everyone," Dumbledore said, drawing up a chair for himself as he had at Harry's hearing the year before. The purple, squashy armchair dropped into place with a small thump and Dumbledore slowly sat down. Harry let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. Dumbledore wouldn't have acted so normally if he'd had bad news.

"What is it, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"There has been a change in the running of the Ministerial election," Dumbledore announced. "Jelly baby?" He offered a small paper bag to the others.

"What's changed, sir?" Hermione asked.

"Gladforth Goyle has decided to withdraw from the running," Dumbledore replied, digging into the bag as thought it were the most interesting thing in the world. "Ah, green," he said happily, pulling a sweet from the bag.

"Well, that's good, surely," Ron said, picking up his butterbeer and taking a sip.

"Mr. Goyle has encouraged his supporters to rally behind Madam Bones," Dumbledore said carefully.

Harry stopped his mouthful of sandwich as his eyes met Dumbledore's. He swallowed with difficulty, for suddenly his throat felt very tight.

"Makes sense, right?" Ron said, looking about the table. "I mean, she'd do a good job, wouldn't she?"

"She won't get the chance," Harry said, his voice seeming to come from a long way away. He looked at Hermione, and knew that she understood too. "Don't you get it, Ron?"

"Apparently not," Ron said, looking from Hermione to Harry and back again. "What are you talking about?"

"Goyle's support will kill Madam Bones chance of becoming Minister," Hermione said quietly. "People will think she's made a deal with a Death Eater to get it."

"Well, alright, but even if that is true, we'll have Mr. Diggory in office and he's..." Ron tailed off as hit him.

"Voldemort's choice," Dumbledore finished. "If Amos Diggory is elected Minister for Magic, it will be because Voldemort wants him to be."

To be continued...