An Australian in Hogsmeade

Chapter 11: Two and two

I stumbled out of the fireplace and noticed with a vague sense of relief mixed with a hefty amount of shock that this time I had at least managed to arrive back at the Three Broomsticks instead of some poor person's home. The shock was only partly due to this accomplishment; most of it was because the room was completely packed. I had left that morning to do some research for Dumbledore's little idea and there had only been the usual number of breakfast people. Now it was worse than it had been the night before.

The fireplace began to rattle ominously behind me and I quickly stepped to the side, lest I become an involuntary landing pad for the second time in less than a week. I pushed back the hood of my raincoat and tucked a few sodden strands of hair behind my ear; most of it was dry, but the front bits hadn't had a hope, even with the raincoat hood up. The rain had been bucketing down and I had been walking into the fairly strong wind a lot of the time.

It was surprisingly easy to pick a path through the crowd. Warm, dry people tend to make way for those who are dripping so much that a small lake would form if they stopped for a few minutes. I had already left one sizeable body of water by the fireplace.

"Jenna!"

I wondered if there was some sort of jinx on me. Both times that I had tried to walk across this room while it was crowded I had been interrupted enroute. This time it was Blaise who had called out. I stopped by the table he was sitting at.

"Trying to single-handedly flood the room?"

I looked down at the floor by my feet; already a large puddle was forming.

"Well, I was going upstairs so I didn't ruin any food, but this person less considerate than I stopped me..."

Blaise widened his eyes in overdone shock and horror.

"No, not the food! That would be a crime worthy of dire punishment, to ruin anything cooked by our esteemed hostess!"

He gave a mocking bow, which looked decidedly ridiculous since he was still sitting. I turned and saw that said esteemed hostess was standing behind me, eyeing my dripping form somewhat warily.

"I take it you'd like a nice, hot bowl of soup?"

"Yes, down here thanks, but I'll go up and remove this first," I replied, gesturing to my raincoat.

Madam Rosmerta turned away to attend to some other customers, but not before I caught sight of the somewhat relieved expression of her face.

"I'd better go up before I really do flood this place out," I said to Blaise.

"I'll still be here," he replied with a slight smile as Millicent arrived, bearing two tankards of a fizzy, foamy liquid, light amber in colour. "I'm not intending to move until I've finished this - and possibly one or two more."

I resumed my trek towards the stairs, with somewhat more success than before. I shut the door to my room with a sense of relief and removed my sodden clothing. The raincoat went into the bathroom, draped over the edge of the bathtub where it could drip all it liked and welcome; baths are designed to cope with lots of water, after all. My jumper and t-shirt were dry, thanks to the raincoat, but no such luck for my pants. They were soaked from about mid-thigh down. I changed those and tugged one of the wet strands of hair thoughtfully, before deciding that the safest thing to do was to leave it in its ponytail. I could already feel my scalp shrinking in fear at the very thought that I might attempt to brush my wind-tangled hair while it was still wet. It was going to be painful enough when it was dry.

Feeling decidedly drier, I headed back downstairs for some decidedly late and consequently much-needed lunch. I sat down with Blaise and Millicent and didn't have to wait long for my meal to arrive. That was rather fortunate, as I was starving. Had I been left for too long unfed, I suspect that the table may have shrunk a little and that an observer with good hearing may have heard gnawing sounds from the vicinity of the table's legs.

As well as the soup, Madam Rosmerta had brought me one of the drinks that Blaise and Millicent - and several other people, I noticed when I looked around - were having. Taking a sip, I recognised the butterscotch-ish flavour from a few nights ago. Now, as then, it sent warmth tingling through my fingers and toes.

"Why are you guys here?" I asked the other two at the table.

"Free icecream, of course we came," Blaise replied.

"And there's a rumour that the fireworks are being supplied by the Weasleys. Much as I had to admit it, their display last year was passable," added Millicent.

I slapped my forehead.

"Oh. My. God." I did some quick counting off of days. "Today's Saturday, isn't it? Opening day of that icecream place."

They looked at me as if I had slightly less intelligence than an earthworm. I was inclined to agree with their assessment; no wonder there were so many people in here. I mentally thanked any deities that were listening that I hadn't made some comment along the lines of "shouldn't you be in school?" to Blaise and Millicent.

"Right, well, now that my brain has managed to catch up with the rest of the world, what's happening between now and whenever this icecream thing starts?"

"We've got an hour or two before they decide to start deafening us, which leaves ample time to visit Gladrags and a few other stores."

Blaise looked less than pleased when Millicent mentioned Gladrags, but he didn't voice any objections. Personally, I was looking forward to going around Hogsmeade with a few locals - or near-locals, anyway. At least they could do magic. I was also wondering whether or not Draco had mentioned the little fact that I wasn't a witch. They weren't treating me any differently than they had the night at the school and I figured I'd just play it by ear. If they didn't mention it, I wouldn't.

I went upstairs when I'd finished my drink to retrieve my raincoat and change back into my bushwalking boots. Heavy they may have been, but I could put up with a lot if it meant having dry feet.

Wandering down the street, I noticed a large crowd outside Honeydukes. No. Not just large, but Large with a capital L. People - mostly teenagers, students I assumed - were spilling out the door. And despite the weather, they seemed content to wait outside until others left to let them in.

"What say we don't go in there until it's actually possible to get in the door?"

Millicent had noticed the crowd at the same time I did and her comment caused Blaise to look over.

"If we vote, I think it would be unanimous, so let's not bother. I wonder what marketing gimmick to lure in the gullible they've come up with now?"

Marketing gimmick?

"Oh..."

In all the events of the past few days, I'd half forgotten my previous visit to Honeydukes and the results thereof. While it wasn't pouring down with rain in Hogsmeade, it was drizzling - the constant sort of drizzle that makes everything somewhere between damp and wet through sheer bloody-minded persistence. No wonder people were crowding into the shop until they spilled out the door and huddled under the awning.

I explained to Blaise and Millicent what the "marketing gimmick" was. Blaise looked as if he was seriously thinking that braving the crowds might be worth it, but Millicent decided to enforce the previous decision by the simple expedient of pulling Blaise into Gladrags. I followed, simply happy to be out of the drizzle.

Once inside, Blaise headed straight for one of the chairs thoughtfully provided for the long-suffering males dragged into the shop. Millicent walked straight to the back of the shop and started going through the racks there. I stood and stared.

I should have been a least a little prepared. All the wizarding shops I'd been into so far seemed to go out of their way to astonish the unwary visitor and there was no reason for Gladrags to have been an exception.

I had begun to accept the magically inclined people wore robes, cloaks if it was cold and hats from the standard pointy-tipped variety to those that defied description.

What I hadn't realised was the variety of attire that come under the term "robe." I tended to associate "robe" with the cassocks monks wore, but the merchandise in that shop was forcing me to rapidly resort my thinking.

I wandered over to the racks, flicking through the amazing variety of styles and colours. Bright purples, deep greens and intense blues flashed past, some beaded, some embroidered, some left plain for the fabric to speak for itself. There were robes reminiscent of dresses from the turn of the century and others that did resemble the cassocks I'd expected, although I doubted a monk would ever wear something with fauns along the hem and the edges of the sleeves.

Another rack held garments styled much like kimonos. I looked through those with a little more interest. If - and it was a very small if - I were to buy something from here, it would have to be something that could pass without comment at something other than a fancy-dress party.

A deep blue one caught my eye and I pulled it out. A sleeping dragon was embroidered on it in silver thread, curled around the bottom among flowers and trees and grass, while the sleeves had an edge of stylised clouds on them. It appealed to me, so I decided to try it on. Maybe I could pass it off as a dressing gown, or whatever the cotton robes that Japanese hotels provided for guests were.

I looked in the mirror as I was putting the robe on and realised that I had been mistaken; the dragon wasn't sleeping, as I had thought, but was looking upwards with a quizzical expression. I had no idea how the embroiderer had managed to give a dragon a quizzical expression, but they had.

I mentally shrugged and finished tying the robe up, simply thinking that I hadn't looked that closely at the dragon in the first place. It wasn't until I looked up for the second time and saw the dragon yawning - yawning and stretching like a cat and sending little puffs of sliver, embroidered smoke floating upwards - that I realised that the needlework had been magicked to move. Much like the brush strokes in the paintings at Hogwarts, the individual stitches moved as the picture in its entirety did. Vaguely I wondered where the stitches depicting the smoke came from, whether they formed and faded as it did or if they had been part of the dragon.

I laughed softly as the dragon sneezed, setting a bit of the grass alight and quickly stomping the flames out. I was definitely getting this robe.

A little while later, with my wallet a few galleons lighter, the three of exited Gladrags and backtracked to Honeydukes. The assistant at Gladrags had thoughtfully charmed my bag to ensure that the contents would stay dry despite the weather.

Honeydukes was still crowded, but at least people were no longer spilling out the door and we were actually able to get inside.

Even with two assistants, Terrance was hardly able to deal with his customers quickly enough. He appeared to be mixing the liquefied chocolate with milk and a little cream; a good idea, I thought, as the straight chocolate had been very rich. Delicious, but rich. He was giving out small samples for people to try and by the looks of things, nearly everyone who tried was buying some. I wondered where he'd got the glasses from and who was doing the continuous washing up.

I slipped around the edge of the crowd, towards the confectionary side of the shop. The atmosphere encouraged people to be a little freer with their money than perhaps they normally would be and I wanted to try a sugar quill. Blaise and Millicent followed me; later Blaise explained that they weren't particularly interested in sugar quills, but that it wouldn't have done for a Slytherin to be seen as being enthusiastic to any degree about something as plebeian as hot chocolate.

There were little cards labelling the flavours in each one. I was trying to decide between a blueberry and kiwi feather and a lemon and almond one. Terrance spotted me while I was deliberating.

"Take both on the house," he grinned. "And here -" he pushed three cups of the hot chocolate along the bench "- for you and your two friends. That idea of yours was one of the best I've heard in a long time!"

We left Honeydukes, warmed by the hot chocolates. Blaise and Millicent were saying that it was a pity it couldn't be bottled, while I was thinking that I was going to have to re-read some Roald Dahl books when I got home, if it led to benefits like these.

Eventually, after wandering into a few of the other shops on our way and taking a few detours down side streets to avoid large clumps of people, we decided it was time to head towards Fortescue's and brave the crowds. The sky was darkening rapidly - it had been early afternoon by the time I'd got back to the Three Broomsticks, hence why I had been ready to eat the legs off the tables - and the fireworks should be starting fairly soon. I was looking forward to those; I found them wonderful even in normal circumstances, but with magic thrown in as well, they should be truly spectacular.

Despite the weather, the crowd at Fortescue's was even bigger than the one at Honeydukes had been. People were sitting at tables or leaning against walls, idly chatting as they either consumed their icecreams or looked on enviously as companions able to make theirs last longer continued enjoying theirs.

We pushed our way inside, people who already had their icecreams obligingly making way for us while those who hadn't pushed their own way forwards. Eventually we made to the front, not without a little judicious use of elbows, and I was faced with a dilemma worse than the one I'd had in Honeydukes. I hadn't even imagined that icecream could come in so many flavours.

Eventually I decided on almond with chocolate fudge ripple; I'd never had almond icecream before, but if it was anything like almond bread, I knew I'd like it. Blaise and Millicent made their choices and we battled our way back outside, people rapidly filling the space we left at the counter.

There's something about licking icecream in a cone that always reminds me of summer as a child. It didn't matter that I was leaning against a cold stone wall and that it was almost dark, the ending of a cold, grey day; in my mind I could see the picnics by the Blackwood river, with us kids constantly in and out of the water, trying to pull the adults in with us. Mum would be waving away the flies with a branch off a gum tree and trying to tell us that we shouldn't be running around so soon after eating and we'd be happily ignoring her.

Suddenly there was a loud boom! as the fireworks started. Fireworks are like icecream in that nearly everybody loves them. Nobody care how much of an idiot they look as they stare skywards, because everyone else is doing the same thing.

These fireworks were truly spectacular, putting the non-magical efforts to shame. Blindingly white wheels skittering just above the ground turned into unicorns galloping around us, magnificent purple and red and gold dragons exploded into being over our heads and other rockets burst into a thousand little fiery green men showering gold upon us.

I reached up as the coins fell, mildly surprised when I caught one.

"Leprechaun gold, it'll be gone by tomorrow," Millicent said dismissively when she saw what I'd done.

"Maybe so, but we can still flip it today." Blaise took the coin from my hand. "Heads say we grab another icecream before we go, tails a final butterbeer?"

"I hope heads, I can't really be bothered moving too far," Millicent replied as the coined tumbled and fell.

Heads it was, to her satisfaction.

"I believe this is yours, for the duration of its brief existence."

Blaise returned the coin and I slipped it in my pocket as I mumbled some thanks.

"I might head off, I don't think I can fit another icecream in. Have a good day tomorrow."

I left them to make their way back inside - considerably easier as the crowd had dispersed quite a bit when the fireworks had finished. I was thinking I'd take a bit of an indirect path back to the Three Broomsticks and enjoy the night for a bit. Once again, however, I was interrupted enroute. There had to be some sort of jinx on me, there was no way this could just be coincidence, happening so many times.

This time it was Hermione, Harry standing by her. Behind her Ron was talking to a few other red-heads; one was a girl I vaguely recognised, two seemed to be twins, identical except for the smudge of soot on one's nose and the remaining one in the group had long hair pulled back into a ponytail.

"Brilliant, don't you think?"

"Absolutely! Nothing could compare to our marvellous -"

"- and magnificent, dazzling display of -"

"- fabulous, fantastic fireworks!"

Definitely twins. Hermione was laughing and as one, the pair turned to her.

"What, you didn't think so? We're shocked!"

"Dismayed!"

"Saddened beyond hope!"

"Wounded to the - oof! What was that for?"

Soot-smudge turned to glare at the red-haired girl, tenderly rubbing the spot where she'd elbowed his ribs. Ron just grinned.

"Jenna, meet my sister Ginny, mighty elbower of Hogwarts, and my brothers Fred -" he gestured to Soot-smudge "- George and Bill."

Ginny looked at me.

"Hey, you're the girl who picked up Neville's toad at the train station!"

Ah, so that was why she looked familiar. Really, the red hair should have tipped me off sooner; the damp weather was probably slowing my brain cells down.

It turned out that Fred, George and Bill had somehow or other managed to get permission to take their sister, their youngest brother and his two friends out for dinner in Diagon Alley.

Ron said Bill was probably the one who'd done it; they probably still thought he had some vestige of responsibility left in him from his days as head boy.

Bill said there was hardly any trickery involved, he'd simply asked. Oh, except he hadn't really mentioned that Fred and George were going to be there, but if Professor McGonagall couldn't work that out by herself then she was getting slow in her old age and didn't deserve to be head of Gryffindor house anymore.

Fred and George said if she was getting slow it was because they weren't around to keep her on her toes anymore and there wasn't anyone else up to the task yet.

"Right then, shall we be off? Jenna, do you want to come as well?"

Hermione smiled. "You should. They'll outnumber us a bit less that way."

I eyed the group.

"How do you mean, males or Weasleys?"

"Both! And also those who know nothing about Muggles."

It was my turn to laugh and I agreed. It should be interesting to eat with a group of wizards and witches, if the previous night was any indication.

Once we got to the Three Broomsticks I asked the others to wait while I ducked upstairs to drop my shopping and change shoes. While I was up there I picked up my sketchbook and slipped Tom's sketch in it to keep it flat. I'd finished it the night before, unable to sleep with all the information Dumbledore had told me whirling around in my head, and seeing as how we were going to Diagon Alley, it was likely we'd pop into the Leaky Cauldron at some point.

Throwing my sketchbook and pencil case into my bag, I hurried back down the stairs to the others, mentally groaning at the thought of yet another floo trip.

***

Overconfident, I fell over as the floo trip ended. I thought I'd been getting the hang of it; the previous trip I'd not only ended up in the right places, I'd also managed to stay upright.

Harry gave me a hand up and Hermione helped me beat off the soot. I checked my bag; fortunately no soot had managed to get inside during the spinning, whirling journey, but I thought I'd best get Tom's sketch to him before anything did happen to it.

I walked over to the bar while the Harry and Hermione waited for all the Weasleys to arrive. Tom was chatting to one of his customers, so I waited until he finished.

He frowned when he saw me.

"I ought to know you... Jenna, isn't it? What brings you here this time?"

"Just passing through and I thought I'd drop off a certain sketch while I was here."

"Did you now? Let's be seeing it then."

I pulled the sketchbook out of my bag and opened the cover, showing the sketch of the Leaky Cauldron sitting inside.

Tom cleaned his hands and pulled it over towards him to have a better look. I watched him study it, feeling somewhat nervous and thinking of a thousand and one ways I might have able to make it a bit better.

He looked up.

"Excellent, I'll have to get it framed. Bit different, having a picture that doesn't move, but I like it." He grinned. "I'd be owing you a bottle of pumpkin juice now, wouldn't I?"

Hermione came up to me while Tom went to get the bottle.

"Coming? Everyone's turned up now, Fred and George together of course, they fell over each other when they tried to step out of the fireplace. They were worse than you, they were face down on the floor!"

I smiled at that picture. It was nice to know I wasn't the worst floo traveller.

"Almost, I just need to get something from Tom."

Tom came back then with the bottle of juice in a paper bag. The bag clinked as he handed it over and I looked at him suspiciously.

He put on a mock-innocent expression.

"Sometimes customers think what you sell is worth more than the asked price."

I smiled.

"Thanks Tom, I'd better leave, they're getting impatient."

"Better not keep them waiting then!"

I picked up my sketchbook, leaving Tom's sketch with him, and tucked it back in my bag as I made my way back over to the group dominated by redheads, Hermione beside me.

"Sorry about that, I just had to give something to Tom."

"Doesn't really matter, gave these to a chance to recover any dignity they have," Bill gestured to Fred and George. Fred had cleaned the soot smudge off his nose and I had no way of telling the two apart any more.

We trooped outside, behind the pub, and I watched as Bill tapped the appropriate brick. I knew what was going to happen, of course, as I'd read the first few books.

Or at least I thought I knew. A description in a book can never describe something like that. A whole wall moving itself, rearranging itself, forming an archway into somewhere unknown to me - it wasn't just the fact of the moving bricks, it was what they were turning into.

Diagon Alley at night was spectacular. Lanterns similar to the ones in Hogsmeade lit it, hanging from lampposts running down the centre and from arms attached to the buildings. Signs were lit either by more lamps or by the letters themselves. It wasn't at all like the harshness of neon lights, more like a glow.

People were hurrying by, or ambling as they chatted in a group, or standing around and laughing. There was a huge variety of clothing, from the robes I'd come to expect to the normal clothes that our group was wearing.

The three elder Weasleys in our group led us to a small-ish restaurant. The sign overhead proclaimed it to be, quite simply, Ferguson's. I was almost disappointed by the name; I had been expecting something implying that the owner was a Wizard, or proclaiming the magnificence of the establishment or some such, not just a name.

When the food arrived, I found out why were there. The servings were more than generous; I had some doubts about my ability to finish the meal, especially given my late lunch and the icecream. I had ordered a chicken dish and it was simply delicious. The relaxed, casual atmosphere meant that we felt free to talk and laugh as we ate - probably a very good thing, as I doubted that any of the Weasleys could have restrained themselves to quiet conversation.

Topics drifted, from things such as Bill's work and the twins' escapades to their father's obsession with all things Muggle. In one of the lulls, Hermione turned to me.

"I found out how you were able to see Hogwarts," she said quietly.

"Really?" I was somewhat interested to find out the reason; I didn't want to be waking up one morning to find only a ruin and signs reading "keep off" where Hogwarts should have been.

"The anti-Muggle charms cover Hogsmeade as well - it makes sense, there's no point in being unable to see the castle if there's a wizarding village just down the road, I really don't know why I didn't think of that earlier.

Anyway, once you were inside Hogsmeade you were inside the charms, in a way, so they didn't work. As for getting into Hogsmeade, well, you were on the train with us, so either they're set to accept everyone on the train as not being Muggle, or maybe they're just set to accept the train, or they couldn't detect you among all of the students."

She frowned thoughtfully.

"I think I sincerely hope it's the former, otherwise there may be a fault in the anti-Muggle charms. Or it might just be an oversight on the part of the people who set them up, not expecting a Muggle to arrive surrounded by wizards."

Hermione smiled at Bill, who was looking rather interested in our conversation.

"It was lovely food but I really don't think I can fit any more in." She sighed contentedly, patting her stomach. "Or not if I want desert, at least!"

I eyed the small amount remaining on my plate and privately agreed with her. If I wanted desert, there was no way I could fit it in if I finished it off. The question was, did I want desert? Given about ten minutes, I figured I probably would.

After desert, I went to the bathroom. Hermione came as well, although Ginny stayed behind, simply to break the girls-alway-go-to-the-bathroom-together phenomenon, or so she said.

Hermione said it was because she'd asked her not to, because she had to tell me something.

"Is this anything to do with the anti-Muggle whatsits around Hogwarts?"

"Oh, no, well, sort of but not really, more to do with the anti-Muggle protocol in general rather than the charms around the school. Do you know about the memory charm - oh no, of course you wouldn't -"

"Ah, as a matter of fact, I have heard of it - the one that makes someone forget something?"

"Yes, that's the one - you do know about it then? That's good, I just wasn't sure if you realised, but since you do, it's ok."

She seemed relieved about something but I was just plain confused.

"Hang on, realise what, exactly? I know of the memory charms, but what am I supposed to realise?"

"Oh..." Hermione bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "You know why memory charms are used most often, to make Muggles forget if they see something they shouldn't, don't you?"

"Well, yes, I suppose I vaguely realised that..."

I looked at Hermione, who seemed quite anxious about something.

"I really shouldn't be telling you this, but I really don't agree with tampering with people's memories - "

"Hang on a moment." I was rapidly putting two and two together and getting four. "They make Muggles forget- I'm a Muggle - They're going to make me forget? A whole week? I won't know about it, nothing?"

"I don't know, I just don't know. I don't know what Dumbledore's planning to do, I don't know what he thinks about using memory charms, they can go really wrong especially if it's a large piece of time they're removing, not just an hour or so like it usually is."

I don't really remember much about the rest of that night. The twins were being their amusing selves, Bill looked at me askance a few times, but I spent most of it feeling rather shocked.

They were going to take a week of my memories away from me. A week of my life. Memories are part of you, so really they were going to take a week of me away from me.

Just a week ago I'd simply been a backpacker who liked to sketch. How did life get so complicated so fast?