- Rating:
- PG-13
- House:
- Schnoogle
- Characters:
- Harry Potter Hermione Granger Ron Weasley Remus Lupin Sirius Black
- Genres:
- Action Drama
- Era:
- Multiple Eras
- Spoilers:
- Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire
- Stats:
-
Published: 03/12/2003Updated: 06/18/2004Words: 105,717Chapters: 17Hits: 25,132
Harry Potter and the Dark Mark
venus
- Story Summary:
- The sequel to Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor. In Harry's 6th year, the Wizarding world is in bedlam: the dark movement is on the rise with a streak of senseless murders one after the other after the other. Harry's quest to stop the terror leads to the revelation of ancient secrets, re-visiting the past , and some old scores are *finally* settled!
Chapter 10
- Chapter Summary:
- The sequel to Harry Potter and the Heir of Gryffindor. In Harry’s 6th year, the Wizarding world is in bedlam: the dark movement is on the rise with a streak of senseless murders one after the other after the other. Harry’s quest to stop the terror leads to the revelation of ancient secrets, re-visiting the past, and some old scores are *finally* settled!
- Posted:
- 06/12/2003
- Hits:
- 1,315
Chapter Ten: Home For the
Holidays
"Merry Christmas, Dudley!"
Harry was delighted at the sight of a well wrapped up Dudley standing at
the platform with only his bright red nose and flushed cheeks visible from
beneath a chunky gray scarf and hat pulled down tight overtop his head. It had
been an agonizing train ride from Hogwarts as he had no idea what Dudley would
act like upon his arrival home for Christmas.
Encouraged by the amicable salutation, Harry met his cousin with a bear
hug of a greeting and to his surprise (and relief) Dudley returned the hug.
"All right there, Harry?"
"All right, yeah. Love the scarf, mate."
Dudley chuckled. "Christmas gift from Aunt Marge. Mum made me wear it."
His eyes fell on Harry's scarf. "Oy! I like yours! Where'd you get that one
from?"
"Oh, it's my Gryffindor scarf."
"That's . . . your "house", right?"
"Yeah. If you like it I can probably sneak one for you if you want."
"Aye, we'll see. C'mon, best hurry. Dad is waiting in the car and he's
threatened to leave without us if we take too long."
"I've heard that one before," said Harry, grabbing hold of his suitcase
in one hand and Hedwig's cage in the other.
"Don't want to test him today-- he's in one of his bloody moods again."
"Yeah, I'm sure he is."
"No, it's really not to do with you this time," Dudley grinned. "I drove
us down today."
Harry's mouth fell. "You're driving now?"
"That's right! Got my Provisional last week!" He pulled out a folded
piece of paper and held it up proudly.
"Wicked! That's brilliant, Dudley! I heard provisionals are really
hard to come by--"
"They are! But you'd be surprised what you can get when you ooze on the
charm."
"So you are driving us home, right?"
"Damn right!"
Vernon was sitting the passenger seat, looking positively gutted, as
Harry slid into his usual seat in the back with Hedwig. Of course Vernon did not
respond to Harry's polite "all right there Uncle Vernon', he merely stared at
Dudley's every move as he buckled his seatbelt and started up the engine.
Harry soon understood why Vernon was upset:
Dudley was an awful driver.
Add in the fact that they were in London (the world's scariest
city to drive in) and Harry found himself subconsciously reaching for his wand.
Death, he was sure, was imminent. But not at the hands of Lord Voldemort, oh no.
Rather, in a Volkswagen driven by Dudley Vernon Dursley.
Uncle Vernon's commentary as they whizzed through the heart of the city,
was certainly not easing tensions.
"DUDLEY! WATCH OUT FOR THAT MAN-- THAT WAS A ZEBRA CROSSING! A ZEBRA
CROSSING MEANS THAT--- OH! JESUS CHRIST, DUDLEY, WHY THE HELL CAN'T YOU STAY ON
YOUR SIDE OF THE ROAD? YOU THINK THOSE BLOODY LINES ARE BLOODY PAINTED ON FOR
BLOODY DECORATION-- DUDLEY! THE LIGHT IS FLIPPING RED!!
Hedwig screeched as they slid to a stop. Dudley was laughing, "Oh come
off it, Dad! No reason to get all narked, live a little bit!"
"I FULLY INTEND TO! If you'll stop behaving like a lunatic!"
Dudley drove more rationally the rest of the journey, but Vernon was
still barking orders on his speed. In fact, Harry didn't notice the speedometer
dip below 80 the entire trip. They made it to Surrey in a record 56 minutes!
Harry laughed as they slid out of the car and made their way towards the
front door. "Hey, we could use you on the Gryffindor Quidditch team!"
Uncle Vernon turned to Harry, his eyes more furious than they had been in
recent memory. The next thing Harry knew, his face was stinging from Vernon's
heavy hand striking the side of his face.
"How DARE YOU suggest such a thing! My son will not have
anything to do with your world!"
Dudley's eyes were on Harry-- poised in expectation of what he was going
to do. So were Vernon's. In fact, Harry was almost sure he saw a degree of
fright in those eyes. Harry wanted to do all sorts of different
things and, frankly, Vernon was most likely anticipating it. Harry's fists were
clenched and he stepped into Vernon's face-- they were now eye-level in height.
Through gritted teeth he said, "Don't--ever--touch--me--again!"
He stormed past his Uncle and into the house, Dudley following closely.
"Oy! Harry," said Dudley as he hurried up the stairs, "I've never
seed Dad that scared! Bet you made him shit his trousers!"
Harry didn't smile as he put Hedwig's cage in its usual spot. "Why the
hell does your dad have to be such an . . . an . . ."
"An arrogant bastard?"
Now Harry smiled.
"You should know him better than to ask a question like that, Harry. We
Dursleys are arrogant bastards by nature. Myself included." He scratched
the back of his neck. "Er . . . sorry about, you know, him hitting you."
"Forget it." Harry paused, "because the minute I turn eighteen I'm
slapping him with a few choice hexes."
"I'll be there with the popcorn!"
Harry laughed and smiled fondly at his cousin: they were talking
again and he wanted it to last forever. To make up for the past few months
of estrangement. Maybe this meant that Dudley was finally past everything! Maybe
this meant that he wanted to keep the friendship as well!
The two cousins chatted casually all afternoon, even opting to decline
dinner at home for a run down to the local chip shop: Harry had been
dying for them. ("They're gorgeous, aren't they? I've yet to find
better ones: Wizarding or Muggle!")
Aside from Vernon hitting Harry, it managed to be a nice, quiet (dare we
say enjoyable?) first day back. And that mood managed to last the rest of
the week. Of course, Harry made sure he didn't do anything that would ruin it--
for instance, bringing up Sophie. As long as Dudley didn't mention her, Harry
wasn't going to. It was a difficult thing not to do--he so wanted to talk about
her, to show Dudley what he'd bought her for Christmas (a new hat he'd ordered
from Hermione's Witchy Woman catalogue) but he knew better than to do any of
this.
Although, with the Christmas party coming next week, they couldn't avoid
the subject forever.
The telephone rang mid Friday afternoon as the two cousins were enjoying
tearing apart a rather naff talk show on the telly. Harry picked up the
receiver, keenly aware of Dudley's eyes following him as he did so. Please be
Sophie, please be Sophie . . .
"Hi, Harry? It's Hermione!"
Damn.
"Oh! Hi, Hermione! Wow, this is a surprise."
"Uh huh. Yeah, sorry I'm not Sophie, but I wanted to ask you: what are
you getting Dudley for Christmas?"
"Er . . ." Harry glanced at Dudley who was pretending to still watch the
telly. He hushed his voice, "Dunno. Why?"
"Well! I'd wanted to get Ron Chudley Canon tickets-- they're in the
semifinals this year and there will be a game on Boxing Day down in Devon. And
then I remembered Dudley said he wanted to see a Quidditch game as well. So, you
want to go in buying the tickets fifty-fifty?"
"Er . . ."
"I'm buying them tomorrow so just say yes and you can pay me back later."
"Er. . . sure."
"Brilliant. Oh, Jake and the Americans are getting here tomorrow! They're
staying in London, so it won't be a problem for them to come to the party! See
you Wednesday. Bye!"
"Bye." He hung up the phone.
Dudley was smirking as Harry sat back down on the sofa. "Now that
was an intelligent conversation, old boy. 'Er. . . dunno . . .er . . . sure.'
Dare I ask what Hermione wanted?"
"Not if you don't want to ruin a surprise."
"That depends. Is the surprise for me?"
"Could be."
"Tell me anyway."
Harry laughed and shook his head. "You can wait."
"Doesn't look like I have much of a choice."
Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's cold treatment was leaving Harry with a
dilemma: how they were going to get to London and back. When Dudley
brought up the transportation issue, Vernon roared back "If you're so keen on
those freaky little friends of yours, have THEM come and GET you!" With the
party only three days away, and the unquestioned declaration Mr. And Mrs. Vernon
P. Dursley were not going to accommodate the boys, Harry was certainly in a
spot. Dudley had his provisional, but no car. Harry had floo powder, but number
four had been discontinued from the network. Harry knew that if he asked Sophie
that the Banburys would come and pick them up, but he felt horrible asking: it
was well over an hour drive!
Of course there was always the option of taking the Muggle train down to
London, although Harry was apprehensive: Dumbledore had been very adamant in
telling Harry that he wanted him supervised at all times when not on Hogwarts
grounds. Sirius and Dumbledore would both be at his throat if they found out
Harry had taken the train unsupervised into London.
How perfectly fitting it was that Dudley kept suggesting them doing
precisely that. "Come on," said Dudley, sitting Harry down in front of his
computer. He scrolled down on a screen that listed departure times, "See? One
leaves for London every hour!"
"Yeah. . ." said Harry, squinting at the computer screen as he traced the
departure schedule with his index finger, "But the last train back for Surrey
leaves at half ten." Harry flinched. "That'll be cutting the evening a bit
short. . ."
"We don't exactly have another option."
"True . . ." Harry shrugged. "Well, guess that settles it then, right?"
"Aye."
Half past four on Christmas Eve found Harry helping stuff Dudley's
backpack full of snacks and presents. It was a considerable walk to the local
train station and: the Dursleys had refused envoy to the station.
The train was cramped with the usual moody Holiday travelers and Harry
and Dudley had to squeeze into a very smoky compartment seating what felt like
ten people too many. The passengers' eyes burned through Dudley and Harry as
they took their seats.
Harry made a point of pretending to be engrossed with a copy of the
Daily Mail that had been left on the seat.
"Oy, Harry," Dudley was whispering, "isn't that. . . an owl
?" Harry looked up and out the window.
Well, how about that! "Sure is. . ."
"Is it . . . one of yours?"
Not only was it a wizarding owl, but . . . it was Sirius' owl! The
owl was flying side by side the compartment window and, ridiculous as it
sounded, Harry was sure that it looked angry with him! Then the owl all
at once flew up and out of view.
"Hmm," said Dudley, "now what do you suppose all of that was about--"
Screams from the corridor interrupted him.
Harry and Dudley stared at each other.
"Uh-oh . . ."
They saw a streak of white and brown fly past their compartment door and
then back again, wings flapping furiously. Then, from between the hinges of the
door, a white envelope came bolting across the compartment, right at Harry,
hitting him directly on the forehead--hard enough to make Harry yelp. The owl
outside the door screeched again and then flew back down the corridor.
Eight pairs of eyes stared at Harry.
Harry smiled weakly, managing a feeble laugh. "I, er . . . he's, er. . .
he's certainly trained well!"
Eight pairs of eyes slowly moved back down to what they'd been focused
with.
Dudley was peering at the letter in Harry's hands. "Who's it from?"
It was indeed Sirius' familiar handwriting that had addressed the
envelope To Harry. "It's from. . . er, Professor Gray."
"Ohhh."
Harry pulled out the parchment and allowed Dudley to read it too:
Harry:
Traveling Muggle style, are we?
I hope I don't sound unreasonable, but I really do wish you'd have told
me before you left. I care about you a great deal and the idea of you traveling
without proper supervision has me . . . a bit stressed. I could have made
arrangements for Remus to go with you or even . . . Professor Gray. You remember
him, right?
That brings me to the real point of this letter: Dumbledore wants it
arranged that any further. . . outings when not at Privet Drive be properly
supervised. And I must say that I agree. I know that probably sounds more like a
prison sentence than anything else, but Dumbledore is rather uncomfortable with
the way things are going at the moment--as we all are.
I miss being able to see you every day and hope to have a chance to visit
soon. Perhaps you Aunt and Uncle wouldn't be as opposed to a visit from
Professor Gray?
Much Love,
Your Godfather "What's that mean," asked Dudley quietly, "you're all uncomfortable with what?" Harry sighed and answered just as quietly, "you remember what happened up in Ireland? Well, the same thing has been happenin' all year long. I'm sure I've written you about it: so far there have been five people who've died from these . . . these murders." "Why doesn't your Prime Minister or whatever he's called just send whoever is doin' it to Azbakan?" Harry smiled. "Azkaban. And it's a bit more complicated than that." Harry wondered whether he should tell Dudley about Professor Trelawney's prediction, but those intrusive passenger eyes were starting to stare again, so he thought the better of it. Their arrival in London's Waterloo station was just as Harry had expected: more miffed and moody Muggles. The train station was impressive with its huge windows and sprawling ground and first floors but was as cold as the mood of the travelers. Dudley and Harry searched the teeming crowds for Sophie's familiar figure. "Going somewhere Mr. Dursley?" They turned to find Sophie behind them, drowning in an oversized black pea coat. "Hiya Sophie." She gave him a nod of the head and did the same to Harry. "Mr. Potter." "Miss Banbury," said Harry, playing along with the posh act and nodding his head politely. "My, the riff raff you do run into in places like these." "Oh get off it and get us out of here, it's bloody freezing!" Dudley looked around. "Where's your Dad?" "Oh, he's at home doing some last minute fixer-upper work around the house. When I left he was contemplating sending a letter to Professor Dumbledore to beg an exception to the underage wizarding law so I could fix the plumbing problem in the upstairs bath." She laughed, "I told him it didn't matter since I didn't know a proper spell anyway. We'd best get going-- we'll have to take the tube, since I obviously don't have the car." She led them towards an escalator beneath the white and red sign advertising the Underground. She paid for their tube fare and Harry followed her down the steps that led towards the train platforms. Harry had never been in the Muggle Underground before, and was rather excited by it. The place was nothing but a maze of tunnels and passageways--every so often marked by maps and arrows pointing to the "central line" or the "district line" but it was obvious to Harry that if one didn't know their way it would have been only too easy to get lost. "Reminds me of the dungeons at school," Harry told Dudley. Dudley smirked. "Stop, you're ruining my impression of Hogwarts." It took about twenty-five minutes and a line change before they reached Sophie's stop off at Shepherd's Bush. Harry and Dudley were close at Sophie's side as she led them out of the tube station and out onto a very quiet tree-lined residential street with snow-caked gutters. They passed the local newsagents and chip shop before embarking on a walk up the rather steep hill that led up to 20 Almond Grove. Roger Banbury opened the door to the three winded travelers and ushered them inside the toasty home. Unlike the decorations the year prior, this year the decorations were entirely Muggle. It made sense as Sophie was now the only witch in the household and was not allowed to use Magic outside of classes. But it still felt enchanting: it was lit by the endless candles that were positioned in every conceivable location leaving the room feeling soft and comfortable. Red and white stockings adorned the fireplace ("My homage to you, Harry" Sophie told him) and holly was hung around the tables and above the doorways. "The kettle's on, lads," said Mr. Banbury, "go on and have a seat." Dudley stifled a laugh. "Who's your tailor, Mr. Banbury?" Mr. Banbury was wearing a white apron with lavender daisies with a spatula in his left hand. Sophie sniggered too. "Yes, isn't he just the vision of loveliness?" Mr. Banbury laughed and shook his head, "Oh go on, and you my dear, had better be careful," he held the spatula threateningly at Sophie who was still sniggering. "Now have a heart and help your old father, won't you?" Sophie took off her pea coat, revealing a black calf-length skirt and soft deep burgundy sweater top. "A-anything we can do?" asked Harry in an effort to regain his senses. "Yes," said Sophie, "tell me if you want one or two lumps in your tea." She sat the both of them down on the living room sofa and went to fetch their tea despite their insisting to help. No sooner had she left than two explosions of green burst from their fireplace. From the mist stepped Ron and Hermione. "Typical," said Ron, shaking his head at Harry, "sittin' about on his bum." "And hello to you too, Ron. All right Hermione?" "Yeah, all right," said Hermione, "How about you, Dudley?" "Good, thanks," said Dudley. "The Americans haven't arrived yet, have they?" "Americans?" asked Dudley. "Yeah," she said, "we met some American wizards last year on our class trip and they're visiting. They're supposed to come tonight." "I hope they don't miss our grate," said Sophie, coming back into the room with the tea, "I read that our Floo system works a bit differently than theirs." "It's their Floo system that works differently from ours," said Ron, "remember whose was around first." "Don't listen to him," said Hermione, socking Ron's shoulder, "he's just jealous." Ron grimaced. "Writing to some bloke over seas all term and didn't even tell me about--" "Don't dramatize--it was two letters Ron, and the last one was to give him Sophie's address." "And what if I'd been carrying on with some American witch all term, what would you say?" "I'd say you'd better never do that if you value your front teeth any," said Hermione with a smile. Bam! Boom! Two more explosions met the company and two more figures emerged. "Speak of the devil," said Ron and Harry jabbed his arm. Two boys-- one tall, lanky and blonde and the other rather portly with brown hair, dusted the smoke and soot from off of their robes. Harry recognized the silvery-gray robes immediately as he'd been so impressed with them the year before. The two boys were taking in their surroundings, wide-eyed and visibly awkward as to what they were supposed to do. "You made it!" said Hermione, coming to their side and shaking their hands vigorously. "Glad to see you both!" (Harry felt Ron groan) The two boys looked relieved to see a friendly face. "Hiya Hermione, thanks for invitin' us!" "I'm Sophie Banbury," said Sophie, coming to Hermione's side. "I've heard a lot about you-- nice to meet you." "I'm Jake and this here's Dewey," said the slow, southern drawl, "An' I'm certainly pleased to make yer acquaintance as well," said the tall blonde, gently taking her hand. A gesture that definitely caused Harry's smile to falter. Harry cleared his throat and approached Sophie's side. "Jake! Good to see you again--all right?" He casually placed his arm around Sophie, and extended his free hand for a handshake. Jake seemed to understand this, a flush coming to his cheeks. "Good, thanks." "How have you been enjoying England?" "Oh, London is terrific," said Dewey with eager eyes, "really, it's awesome. Y'all are so hospitable! And we southern folk are supposed to be the ones known for that kinda thing!" Sophie seemed pleased, "Well here, let me live up to our apparent reputation: can I take your robes?" They shed them eagerly, both boys dressed in smart charcoal slacks and long sleeve shirts. "It's been so much fun," said Jake, inching towards the sofa, "we visited Diagon Alley yesterday, and today we took a tour of the Ministry of Magic--" "--And it was really great because our tour guide took us across the way to the Tower of London for a special Wizarding Tour." Hermione looked intrigued. "Really? I didn't know Wizarding Tours were offered there!" "Oh yeah," said Dewey, "and it was awesome. Told us about all kinds of history about witches and wizards who'd died there, members of the court who were wizards--even got to meet a couple of the ghosts there," he sniggered, "Weren't the nicest things. . ." "Well I don't blame them," said Jake, "I mean--don't you remember what our guide said about how most of 'em died? I'd be moody as hell if I'd been put on the rack..." Bam! Bang! Boom! Three more voices were audible from the thick green smoke: Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown arrived closely followed by another two blasts revealing Seamus Finnegan (Lavender's date) and Dean Thomas (Parvati's date). The Banbury living room was filling up quickly and Sophie was hurrying about, squeezing between the guests, and making sure everyone had a drink. (Something that Dudley and Seamus were particularly happy about!) She was giving Jake and Dewey both a serving of Butterbeer, and the boys seemed a bit uneasy about it. Jake kept looking over at Mr. Banbury and then said to Sophie in a hushed voice, "Um. . . your Dad's okay with everyone drinkin'?" Sophie raised her brow. "Yes . . ." "But," he was getting embarrassed, "but isn't he a cop?" "Yeah . . ." "And . . . we won't get in trouble? I mean, we're all underage. . ." "Underage?" she repeated blankly. "Oh," said Hermione, "that's right! The drinking age is different in America, isn't it?" Dewey nodded. "Yeah, twenty-one." Seamus nearly choked. "TWENTY-ONE? WHAT, ARE YOU A THIRD WORLD COUNTRY?" Jake and Dewey blushed. "Why, what's it over here?" "Sixteen," said Dudley, "but even so, no one really cares." "Oh," said Jake, breaking a smile, "well that's good news. I just wasn't sure--not used to a bunch of kids drinkin' in front of their parents." Sophie laughed. "Even so, I wouldn't exactly call Butterbeer strong liquor. I mean, it takes a lot to get lightheaded." "Speaking of that," said Seamus happily, turning to Dudley, "hows about you and I havin' a face-off, eh? Right here and now." Dudley folded his arms. "Are you suggesting, Finnegan, that you can out drink me?" "Not suggesting, Dursley, rather just stating fact!" There was a chorus of 'ooohhhs' and Dudley rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Hold on there cowboys," said Sophie, "before there is any passing out, what does everyone say to opening some presents!" There was a chorus of 'ayes' and 'yeahs'. Dudley reached for his backpack and pulled out the two packages that he and Harry had packed. Hermione proudly pulled out a long envelope held together with a handsome burgundy band. "Me first," she said handing the envelope to Ron. "This is actually for you and Dudley." Dudley sat straight up. "Oh?" Ron ripped open the envelope with Dudley peering over his shoulder. Ron's face was blank for a moment and then suddenly his eyes grew wide. "ALL RIGHT!" Ron shouted, "BLOODY FANTASTIC! I CAN'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS!" Dudley was squinting to read the tickets, "Ch- Chudley--" "THE CHUDLEY FLIPPING CANNONS, DUDLEY! THE CHUDLEY FLIPPING CANNONS!" "And... what are they?" "THEY are the single GREATEST Quidditch team on the face of the planet!" "Right," said Seamus, "AFTER the Ballycastle Bats." "That is absolute rubbish," said Justin Finch Fletchley, "Just because of that stupid Barney the Fruitbat, everyone actually thinks they're good." "Thank you," said Ron. "Everyone knows that the Montrose Magpies are the best in the league." "WHAT?" "Well they are 2nd in the league," said Justin, "and I believe the Canons are . . . ninth? Again?" "At least I'm not a bandwagon fan like you Justin," Ron sneered. He held the tickets close. "I just--I can't--oh Hermione!" He threw his arms around her and landed her with a long, forceful kiss on the lips. "Oohhhhh," Parvati and Lavender teased happily and when Ron pulled away, he was blushing. "Well, thank Harry too," said Hermione. "He and I went in fifty-fifty." Ron looked at Harry and a mischievous smile crept across his face. Harry stiffened and he raised his fist, "You do it Ron and so help me. . ." Everyone laughed. Dudley took the tickets from Ron's hand to survey them closer. "Oh hey--the game is on Boxing Day?" "Yeah," said Hermione, turning to whisper into Harry's ear, "see that extra ticket? Well, I got an urgent owl from Professor Dumbledore. I don't know how he heard about our surprise, but he requested that Sir--er, that Professor Gray chaperone us, and sent that extra ticket along with the letter!" Harry nodded. "I'm not surprised. Er. . . Professor Gray sent me an owl telling me that he was supposed to come along if I intended on going out anywhere." Hermione looked solemn and whispered, "They're scared, aren't they Harry." He sighed. "Who isn't anymore?" "I wish I could see a Quidditch match," Neville was saying loudly, bringing Harry and Hermione back to the conversation. "But it took weeks of begging Gran to even let me come here tonight. "That's normal, Neville," said Seamus. "Yeah, but, well, with everything that's been happening lately. . . . it's made it that much harder." "What do you mean?" asked Jack. The room fell quiet. Eyes nervously searched each other, waiting for someone to say it. Harry didn't want to, but no one was answering the question. So he took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. "Well," he began 1, "it's been happening for about five months now. Attacks throughout all of Britain . . . so far five people have died." "Five?" Jack put down his glass. "But . . . but doesn't anyone know who's doing it?" "Oh yes," said Seamus. "That's the point. The dark wizards are on the rise again. Every time there is an attack, they leave their mark behind." "Well then? That should make it easy for your Ministry, right?" asked Jimmy. "If they know who's doin' it--" "It's a bit more complicated than that," said Harry sadly. "And no one knows when or where it will happen next-- the attacks appear to be all random." Jimmy grimaced. "Maybe not." "Sorry?" Jack looked pale, but nodded in agreement with his friend. "Yeah, actually that sounds an awful lot like something that happened at home a few years back." The company held their stare on Jack. "Oh?" asked Hermione. "Yeah. See, it all started with the Maulers--they're a political party that have control of our Sorceric Congress. But only recently. For several year, it was the Deevers who were in control. Well, the Maulers didn't like that not one bit. Especially since they thought the Deevers to be sentimental Muggle lovers. So suddenly, Deevers within the Congress started to mysteriously disappear." Harry's pulse was racing. "Go on." Jack was aware of Harry's intrigue. "And . . . um. . . well anyway, so of course it didn't take long for the congress to figure out which Maulers were the ones behind the abductions." "Why?" "Well . . . Intel figured out that the Deevers who had disappeared had, in some way, a direct relationship with specific Maulers." "Almost as though the Maulers had a personal vendetta. . ." "Right. There was one Deever who disappeared who had apparently been a long time enemy of a particularly dark Mauler. Another Deever disappeared who had had an ongoing rivalry with another dark Mauler, etc. It turns out that those same Maulers were a part of, well, a secret society. The Congress was fully aware of this society and had them all rounded up and put away." "And?" Sophie asked breathlessly. "And. . . that was the end of it. No more disappearances." It was beginning to feel more like a morgue than a Christmas party. Jimmy laughed nervously, "Well, I'm sure that whatever's happenin' will be taken care of. Our mystery wasn't solved overnight, that's fer damn sure." Seamus found the will to force a chuckle. "Well, any road, glad to know everything was taken care of. I'm sure the same will happen with us. . ." but there was discord in his voice and no one was fooled by his words. Thankfully, Harry and Dudley weren't the first ones to leave. Neville left at precisely nine pm (Grandmum's orders) but Harry still felt terribly awkward about announcing they had to leave when the clock was only striking ten. Seamus (red-faced and speech somewhat slurring) thought it was particularly funny. "What, yer gonna turn back into a pumpkin o' somethin', Potter?" Harry snapped his fingers. "Dammit. You guessed it, Seamus. Come on Dudley, ready?" Dudley had been on the sofa next to Seamus, a combined total of nine empty bottles at their feet. (and they weren't all Butterbeer!) It took about three tries before he was able to get to his feet and Harry held his back up so he didn't fall over backwards. "Ready sweetheart," said Dudley in a voice that sounded quite similar to Seamus' at the moment, he took a forceful hold of Harry's sleeve. "Hey mate, you wanna stop that jumpin' up and down fer us?" Harry sniggered. "I'm not moving, Dudley." "That's a good lad." Harry laughed and turned to extend his hand to Jimmy and Dewey, wishing them both a lovely holiday in Britain. "Don't make yerselves strangers in L'isiana, okay?" He assured him he wouldn't and the two cousins turned and headed for the door (Harry with Dudley leaning against him for support) with Sophie, Ron and Hermione trailing them closely. "We'll at least see you to the Underground station," said Sophie as they walked briskly through the bitter cold night air. "The game is on Boxing Day," said Ron, "so we'll see you in two days?" "Can't wait," said Sophie. "It's gonna be brilliant!" "Gunnerbebrilliant," repeated Dudley, grinning happily. Hermione nodded, looking very distant. "Yeah. And, oh Harry, I got an owl from Sirius this afternoon and he says that he'll come down from Hogsmeade and travel with you and Dudley down to the match." "Hey," said Sophie, "Why don't we all meet at my house and then we can all go on together? I mean, Dudley won't be able to travel on the floo network, so I think it would be nice if we all traveled to the stadium together. I mean, my house is on the way. We could meet at around, say, noon? We'd have more than enough time to get down to Devon." Harry smiled. "That's a nice thought, Sophie. What do you think Ron?" "Sounds fine to me. You Hermione?" Hermione didn't answer. "Hello, Earth to Hermione?" asked Ron. Dudley seemed to feel the need to add to this. "YOO HOO!" he said, waving his hands in her face. Harry coughed back a laugh. Hermione looked up and shook her head. "Sorry, I just can't stop thinking about what Jake told us. I bet you money that if we did our homework we'd find that all these victims have some connection with a death eater or two. Ron was pensive. "Yeah. . . but then what about Weatherby Jr.? He was a Muggle. What would a Muggle have to do with a Dark Wizard?" "I'm sure there's a connection," said Hermione, "Weatherby Sr. must have been mixed up with the Death Eaters at some point. . ." "Let's say there is a connection," Sophie protested, "So what? That won't help us prevent who the next victims are." "No, but it would give stubborn old Fudge won't do anything without evidence. So, this will give him evidence that what Harry's been telling him all along has not been made up." Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulders supportively. "Come on sweetpea, let's not think about it anymore tonight." They were at the entrance to the Underground station and Harry gave Hermione and Sophie a goodbye hug. "'Night Harry, 'Night Dudley," said Sophie. Harry wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, but keenly aware of the fact that Dudley was still leaning against him, his alcoholic breath hot and heavy against his shoulder. She smiled at her. "Thanks for everything, Sophie, it was brilliant." "Brrrrliant," Dudley sputtered, shaking her hand vigorously. "My pleasure," she said, laughing at Dudley. "See you both on Friday!" Harry turned from his friends and helped Dudley begin the arduous journey down the steps to the Underground turnstiles. Harry shook his head. "Your Mum's gonna love this, Dudley." Dudley laughed, hiccupping as he did so. "Codshwallop Cousin. Mum's usually like this, y'know."
Your Godfather "What's that mean," asked Dudley quietly, "you're all uncomfortable with what?" Harry sighed and answered just as quietly, "you remember what happened up in Ireland? Well, the same thing has been happenin' all year long. I'm sure I've written you about it: so far there have been five people who've died from these . . . these murders." "Why doesn't your Prime Minister or whatever he's called just send whoever is doin' it to Azbakan?" Harry smiled. "Azkaban. And it's a bit more complicated than that." Harry wondered whether he should tell Dudley about Professor Trelawney's prediction, but those intrusive passenger eyes were starting to stare again, so he thought the better of it. Their arrival in London's Waterloo station was just as Harry had expected: more miffed and moody Muggles. The train station was impressive with its huge windows and sprawling ground and first floors but was as cold as the mood of the travelers. Dudley and Harry searched the teeming crowds for Sophie's familiar figure. "Going somewhere Mr. Dursley?" They turned to find Sophie behind them, drowning in an oversized black pea coat. "Hiya Sophie." She gave him a nod of the head and did the same to Harry. "Mr. Potter." "Miss Banbury," said Harry, playing along with the posh act and nodding his head politely. "My, the riff raff you do run into in places like these." "Oh get off it and get us out of here, it's bloody freezing!" Dudley looked around. "Where's your Dad?" "Oh, he's at home doing some last minute fixer-upper work around the house. When I left he was contemplating sending a letter to Professor Dumbledore to beg an exception to the underage wizarding law so I could fix the plumbing problem in the upstairs bath." She laughed, "I told him it didn't matter since I didn't know a proper spell anyway. We'd best get going-- we'll have to take the tube, since I obviously don't have the car." She led them towards an escalator beneath the white and red sign advertising the Underground. She paid for their tube fare and Harry followed her down the steps that led towards the train platforms. Harry had never been in the Muggle Underground before, and was rather excited by it. The place was nothing but a maze of tunnels and passageways--every so often marked by maps and arrows pointing to the "central line" or the "district line" but it was obvious to Harry that if one didn't know their way it would have been only too easy to get lost. "Reminds me of the dungeons at school," Harry told Dudley. Dudley smirked. "Stop, you're ruining my impression of Hogwarts." It took about twenty-five minutes and a line change before they reached Sophie's stop off at Shepherd's Bush. Harry and Dudley were close at Sophie's side as she led them out of the tube station and out onto a very quiet tree-lined residential street with snow-caked gutters. They passed the local newsagents and chip shop before embarking on a walk up the rather steep hill that led up to 20 Almond Grove. Roger Banbury opened the door to the three winded travelers and ushered them inside the toasty home. Unlike the decorations the year prior, this year the decorations were entirely Muggle. It made sense as Sophie was now the only witch in the household and was not allowed to use Magic outside of classes. But it still felt enchanting: it was lit by the endless candles that were positioned in every conceivable location leaving the room feeling soft and comfortable. Red and white stockings adorned the fireplace ("My homage to you, Harry" Sophie told him) and holly was hung around the tables and above the doorways. "The kettle's on, lads," said Mr. Banbury, "go on and have a seat." Dudley stifled a laugh. "Who's your tailor, Mr. Banbury?" Mr. Banbury was wearing a white apron with lavender daisies with a spatula in his left hand. Sophie sniggered too. "Yes, isn't he just the vision of loveliness?" Mr. Banbury laughed and shook his head, "Oh go on, and you my dear, had better be careful," he held the spatula threateningly at Sophie who was still sniggering. "Now have a heart and help your old father, won't you?" Sophie took off her pea coat, revealing a black calf-length skirt and soft deep burgundy sweater top. "A-anything we can do?" asked Harry in an effort to regain his senses. "Yes," said Sophie, "tell me if you want one or two lumps in your tea." She sat the both of them down on the living room sofa and went to fetch their tea despite their insisting to help. No sooner had she left than two explosions of green burst from their fireplace. From the mist stepped Ron and Hermione. "Typical," said Ron, shaking his head at Harry, "sittin' about on his bum." "And hello to you too, Ron. All right Hermione?" "Yeah, all right," said Hermione, "How about you, Dudley?" "Good, thanks," said Dudley. "The Americans haven't arrived yet, have they?" "Americans?" asked Dudley. "Yeah," she said, "we met some American wizards last year on our class trip and they're visiting. They're supposed to come tonight." "I hope they don't miss our grate," said Sophie, coming back into the room with the tea, "I read that our Floo system works a bit differently than theirs." "It's their Floo system that works differently from ours," said Ron, "remember whose was around first." "Don't listen to him," said Hermione, socking Ron's shoulder, "he's just jealous." Ron grimaced. "Writing to some bloke over seas all term and didn't even tell me about--" "Don't dramatize--it was two letters Ron, and the last one was to give him Sophie's address." "And what if I'd been carrying on with some American witch all term, what would you say?" "I'd say you'd better never do that if you value your front teeth any," said Hermione with a smile. Bam! Boom! Two more explosions met the company and two more figures emerged. "Speak of the devil," said Ron and Harry jabbed his arm. Two boys-- one tall, lanky and blonde and the other rather portly with brown hair, dusted the smoke and soot from off of their robes. Harry recognized the silvery-gray robes immediately as he'd been so impressed with them the year before. The two boys were taking in their surroundings, wide-eyed and visibly awkward as to what they were supposed to do. "You made it!" said Hermione, coming to their side and shaking their hands vigorously. "Glad to see you both!" (Harry felt Ron groan) The two boys looked relieved to see a friendly face. "Hiya Hermione, thanks for invitin' us!" "I'm Sophie Banbury," said Sophie, coming to Hermione's side. "I've heard a lot about you-- nice to meet you." "I'm Jake and this here's Dewey," said the slow, southern drawl, "An' I'm certainly pleased to make yer acquaintance as well," said the tall blonde, gently taking her hand. A gesture that definitely caused Harry's smile to falter. Harry cleared his throat and approached Sophie's side. "Jake! Good to see you again--all right?" He casually placed his arm around Sophie, and extended his free hand for a handshake. Jake seemed to understand this, a flush coming to his cheeks. "Good, thanks." "How have you been enjoying England?" "Oh, London is terrific," said Dewey with eager eyes, "really, it's awesome. Y'all are so hospitable! And we southern folk are supposed to be the ones known for that kinda thing!" Sophie seemed pleased, "Well here, let me live up to our apparent reputation: can I take your robes?" They shed them eagerly, both boys dressed in smart charcoal slacks and long sleeve shirts. "It's been so much fun," said Jake, inching towards the sofa, "we visited Diagon Alley yesterday, and today we took a tour of the Ministry of Magic--" "--And it was really great because our tour guide took us across the way to the Tower of London for a special Wizarding Tour." Hermione looked intrigued. "Really? I didn't know Wizarding Tours were offered there!" "Oh yeah," said Dewey, "and it was awesome. Told us about all kinds of history about witches and wizards who'd died there, members of the court who were wizards--even got to meet a couple of the ghosts there," he sniggered, "Weren't the nicest things. . ." "Well I don't blame them," said Jake, "I mean--don't you remember what our guide said about how most of 'em died? I'd be moody as hell if I'd been put on the rack..." Bam! Bang! Boom! Three more voices were audible from the thick green smoke: Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown arrived closely followed by another two blasts revealing Seamus Finnegan (Lavender's date) and Dean Thomas (Parvati's date). The Banbury living room was filling up quickly and Sophie was hurrying about, squeezing between the guests, and making sure everyone had a drink. (Something that Dudley and Seamus were particularly happy about!) She was giving Jake and Dewey both a serving of Butterbeer, and the boys seemed a bit uneasy about it. Jake kept looking over at Mr. Banbury and then said to Sophie in a hushed voice, "Um. . . your Dad's okay with everyone drinkin'?" Sophie raised her brow. "Yes . . ." "But," he was getting embarrassed, "but isn't he a cop?" "Yeah . . ." "And . . . we won't get in trouble? I mean, we're all underage. . ." "Underage?" she repeated blankly. "Oh," said Hermione, "that's right! The drinking age is different in America, isn't it?" Dewey nodded. "Yeah, twenty-one." Seamus nearly choked. "TWENTY-ONE? WHAT, ARE YOU A THIRD WORLD COUNTRY?" Jake and Dewey blushed. "Why, what's it over here?" "Sixteen," said Dudley, "but even so, no one really cares." "Oh," said Jake, breaking a smile, "well that's good news. I just wasn't sure--not used to a bunch of kids drinkin' in front of their parents." Sophie laughed. "Even so, I wouldn't exactly call Butterbeer strong liquor. I mean, it takes a lot to get lightheaded." "Speaking of that," said Seamus happily, turning to Dudley, "hows about you and I havin' a face-off, eh? Right here and now." Dudley folded his arms. "Are you suggesting, Finnegan, that you can out drink me?" "Not suggesting, Dursley, rather just stating fact!" There was a chorus of 'ooohhhs' and Dudley rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Hold on there cowboys," said Sophie, "before there is any passing out, what does everyone say to opening some presents!" There was a chorus of 'ayes' and 'yeahs'. Dudley reached for his backpack and pulled out the two packages that he and Harry had packed. Hermione proudly pulled out a long envelope held together with a handsome burgundy band. "Me first," she said handing the envelope to Ron. "This is actually for you and Dudley." Dudley sat straight up. "Oh?" Ron ripped open the envelope with Dudley peering over his shoulder. Ron's face was blank for a moment and then suddenly his eyes grew wide. "ALL RIGHT!" Ron shouted, "BLOODY FANTASTIC! I CAN'T BLOODY BELIEVE THIS!" Dudley was squinting to read the tickets, "Ch- Chudley--" "THE CHUDLEY FLIPPING CANNONS, DUDLEY! THE CHUDLEY FLIPPING CANNONS!" "And... what are they?" "THEY are the single GREATEST Quidditch team on the face of the planet!" "Right," said Seamus, "AFTER the Ballycastle Bats." "That is absolute rubbish," said Justin Finch Fletchley, "Just because of that stupid Barney the Fruitbat, everyone actually thinks they're good." "Thank you," said Ron. "Everyone knows that the Montrose Magpies are the best in the league." "WHAT?" "Well they are 2nd in the league," said Justin, "and I believe the Canons are . . . ninth? Again?" "At least I'm not a bandwagon fan like you Justin," Ron sneered. He held the tickets close. "I just--I can't--oh Hermione!" He threw his arms around her and landed her with a long, forceful kiss on the lips. "Oohhhhh," Parvati and Lavender teased happily and when Ron pulled away, he was blushing. "Well, thank Harry too," said Hermione. "He and I went in fifty-fifty." Ron looked at Harry and a mischievous smile crept across his face. Harry stiffened and he raised his fist, "You do it Ron and so help me. . ." Everyone laughed. Dudley took the tickets from Ron's hand to survey them closer. "Oh hey--the game is on Boxing Day?" "Yeah," said Hermione, turning to whisper into Harry's ear, "see that extra ticket? Well, I got an urgent owl from Professor Dumbledore. I don't know how he heard about our surprise, but he requested that Sir--er, that Professor Gray chaperone us, and sent that extra ticket along with the letter!" Harry nodded. "I'm not surprised. Er. . . Professor Gray sent me an owl telling me that he was supposed to come along if I intended on going out anywhere." Hermione looked solemn and whispered, "They're scared, aren't they Harry." He sighed. "Who isn't anymore?" "I wish I could see a Quidditch match," Neville was saying loudly, bringing Harry and Hermione back to the conversation. "But it took weeks of begging Gran to even let me come here tonight. "That's normal, Neville," said Seamus. "Yeah, but, well, with everything that's been happening lately. . . . it's made it that much harder." "What do you mean?" asked Jack. The room fell quiet. Eyes nervously searched each other, waiting for someone to say it. Harry didn't want to, but no one was answering the question. So he took a deep breath and tried to find the right words. "Well," he began 1, "it's been happening for about five months now. Attacks throughout all of Britain . . . so far five people have died." "Five?" Jack put down his glass. "But . . . but doesn't anyone know who's doing it?" "Oh yes," said Seamus. "That's the point. The dark wizards are on the rise again. Every time there is an attack, they leave their mark behind." "Well then? That should make it easy for your Ministry, right?" asked Jimmy. "If they know who's doin' it--" "It's a bit more complicated than that," said Harry sadly. "And no one knows when or where it will happen next-- the attacks appear to be all random." Jimmy grimaced. "Maybe not." "Sorry?" Jack looked pale, but nodded in agreement with his friend. "Yeah, actually that sounds an awful lot like something that happened at home a few years back." The company held their stare on Jack. "Oh?" asked Hermione. "Yeah. See, it all started with the Maulers--they're a political party that have control of our Sorceric Congress. But only recently. For several year, it was the Deevers who were in control. Well, the Maulers didn't like that not one bit. Especially since they thought the Deevers to be sentimental Muggle lovers. So suddenly, Deevers within the Congress started to mysteriously disappear." Harry's pulse was racing. "Go on." Jack was aware of Harry's intrigue. "And . . . um. . . well anyway, so of course it didn't take long for the congress to figure out which Maulers were the ones behind the abductions." "Why?" "Well . . . Intel figured out that the Deevers who had disappeared had, in some way, a direct relationship with specific Maulers." "Almost as though the Maulers had a personal vendetta. . ." "Right. There was one Deever who disappeared who had apparently been a long time enemy of a particularly dark Mauler. Another Deever disappeared who had had an ongoing rivalry with another dark Mauler, etc. It turns out that those same Maulers were a part of, well, a secret society. The Congress was fully aware of this society and had them all rounded up and put away." "And?" Sophie asked breathlessly. "And. . . that was the end of it. No more disappearances." It was beginning to feel more like a morgue than a Christmas party. Jimmy laughed nervously, "Well, I'm sure that whatever's happenin' will be taken care of. Our mystery wasn't solved overnight, that's fer damn sure." Seamus found the will to force a chuckle. "Well, any road, glad to know everything was taken care of. I'm sure the same will happen with us. . ." but there was discord in his voice and no one was fooled by his words. Thankfully, Harry and Dudley weren't the first ones to leave. Neville left at precisely nine pm (Grandmum's orders) but Harry still felt terribly awkward about announcing they had to leave when the clock was only striking ten. Seamus (red-faced and speech somewhat slurring) thought it was particularly funny. "What, yer gonna turn back into a pumpkin o' somethin', Potter?" Harry snapped his fingers. "Dammit. You guessed it, Seamus. Come on Dudley, ready?" Dudley had been on the sofa next to Seamus, a combined total of nine empty bottles at their feet. (and they weren't all Butterbeer!) It took about three tries before he was able to get to his feet and Harry held his back up so he didn't fall over backwards. "Ready sweetheart," said Dudley in a voice that sounded quite similar to Seamus' at the moment, he took a forceful hold of Harry's sleeve. "Hey mate, you wanna stop that jumpin' up and down fer us?" Harry sniggered. "I'm not moving, Dudley." "That's a good lad." Harry laughed and turned to extend his hand to Jimmy and Dewey, wishing them both a lovely holiday in Britain. "Don't make yerselves strangers in L'isiana, okay?" He assured him he wouldn't and the two cousins turned and headed for the door (Harry with Dudley leaning against him for support) with Sophie, Ron and Hermione trailing them closely. "We'll at least see you to the Underground station," said Sophie as they walked briskly through the bitter cold night air. "The game is on Boxing Day," said Ron, "so we'll see you in two days?" "Can't wait," said Sophie. "It's gonna be brilliant!" "Gunnerbebrilliant," repeated Dudley, grinning happily. Hermione nodded, looking very distant. "Yeah. And, oh Harry, I got an owl from Sirius this afternoon and he says that he'll come down from Hogsmeade and travel with you and Dudley down to the match." "Hey," said Sophie, "Why don't we all meet at my house and then we can all go on together? I mean, Dudley won't be able to travel on the floo network, so I think it would be nice if we all traveled to the stadium together. I mean, my house is on the way. We could meet at around, say, noon? We'd have more than enough time to get down to Devon." Harry smiled. "That's a nice thought, Sophie. What do you think Ron?" "Sounds fine to me. You Hermione?" Hermione didn't answer. "Hello, Earth to Hermione?" asked Ron. Dudley seemed to feel the need to add to this. "YOO HOO!" he said, waving his hands in her face. Harry coughed back a laugh. Hermione looked up and shook her head. "Sorry, I just can't stop thinking about what Jake told us. I bet you money that if we did our homework we'd find that all these victims have some connection with a death eater or two. Ron was pensive. "Yeah. . . but then what about Weatherby Jr.? He was a Muggle. What would a Muggle have to do with a Dark Wizard?" "I'm sure there's a connection," said Hermione, "Weatherby Sr. must have been mixed up with the Death Eaters at some point. . ." "Let's say there is a connection," Sophie protested, "So what? That won't help us prevent who the next victims are." "No, but it would give stubborn old Fudge won't do anything without evidence. So, this will give him evidence that what Harry's been telling him all along has not been made up." Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulders supportively. "Come on sweetpea, let's not think about it anymore tonight." They were at the entrance to the Underground station and Harry gave Hermione and Sophie a goodbye hug. "'Night Harry, 'Night Dudley," said Sophie. Harry wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, but keenly aware of the fact that Dudley was still leaning against him, his alcoholic breath hot and heavy against his shoulder. She smiled at her. "Thanks for everything, Sophie, it was brilliant." "Brrrrliant," Dudley sputtered, shaking her hand vigorously. "My pleasure," she said, laughing at Dudley. "See you both on Friday!" Harry turned from his friends and helped Dudley begin the arduous journey down the steps to the Underground turnstiles. Harry shook his head. "Your Mum's gonna love this, Dudley." Dudley laughed, hiccupping as he did so. "Codshwallop Cousin. Mum's usually like this, y'know."