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Friends and Foes | ||||||
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Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Comedy, Drama, Fluff, Romance, Tragedy Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 176 Summary: Harry and his friends finally know who killed Ginny and Luna's classmate, Colin Creevey. It is 2001, and the search has been ongoing for a year. Will those final few foes who escaped justice at the end of The Battle ever be brought to justice? Hitcount: Story Total: 56399; Chapter Total: 5024 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Thanks as always to Amelie |
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4. The Burrow (Mostly) It was well after midnight when Harry and Ginny finally returned to number twelve Grimmauld Place. Exhausted and rather saddle-sore from the long journey to Newcastle and back, they gratefully accepted the cups of hot chocolate Kreacher had waiting for them. As they sat side by side on the sofa in his sitting room Harry slipped his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder and gave her a hug. ‘You were right, Ginny,’ he said as she leant into him and rested her head on his shoulder. ‘I didn’t want to go. But I’m glad that I did, and I’m really glad that you were there with me. Thank you.’ ‘I’m glad I was there, too,’ Ginny told him. ‘It was ... interesting. Your relatives are...’ She hesitated; she was lost for words, something which rarely happened. ‘Horrible?’ Harry asked. Ginny stifled a laugh, and snuggled in closer. ‘It’s obvious that Vernon is never going to like you,’ she said quietly and candidly. ‘I’m not sure about Petunia, but Dudley really does want to keep in touch with you. He’s okay, you know. He’s certainly no worse than some of my cousins.’ She yawned. ‘It’s been a long day, much longer than I expected. Let’s go to bed.’ ‘Good idea,’ Harry said as he too yawned. He removed his arm from her shoulder, and she stood and stretched. ‘It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow, too,’ she said. ‘And Monday, too,’ he reminded her. To Harry, it seemed as though it was only moments later when he was woken by someone knocking on his bedroom door. ‘What?’ he grumbled. ‘Harry,’ Hermione shouted, ‘it’s half past nine, we need to be setting off for The Burrow soon. Is Ginny in Beaumaris, or is she with you?’ ‘Go away, Hermione!’ Ginny replied. ‘It’s half past nine,’ Hermione repeated. ‘We’ll be down in a few minutes,’ Harry called, yawning. ‘Put the kettle on, please.’ ‘I suppose we should be grateful that she’s stopped bursting into your room,’ Ginny murmured. ‘After the last time, I don’t suppose she’ll ever do that again,’ said Harry. ‘I hope not,’ said Ginny, smirking. Stretching like a cat, Ginny slid out of his bed. She continued to stretch as she walked over to the door. Harry watched his girlfriend as she strolled across to the door with libidinousness inducing languor. He somehow overcame the urge to drag her back into bed and simply watched her backside vanish from view as she pulled on her dressing gown. A few minutes later, Harry stumbled into his kitchen in his dressing gown, he was still unshaven. Ron was sitting at the table, relaxed and drinking tea; Hermione was sitting next to him, and Harry could see that she was beginning to panic. ‘We should be going! You know that Molly likes us to be there by one o’clock, and it’s a three hour drive,’ Hermione reminded Harry. ‘Just relax, Hermione. It’s Harry, remember? You know that Mum lets him get away with anything.’ Ron grinned as he poured a cup of tea for his friend. ‘If you’re worried about being late, Hermione, just go,’ Harry told her. ‘Ginny and I can follow you on the bike. It’s much faster than your car.’ He pulled out a chair and sat, facing his friends across the table. Thanks, Ron,’ he added picking up the green mug which Ron had poured for him. ‘My favourite mug.’ Ron looked grimly at the mug, which bore the legend: “Harpies: League Champions 1999/2000”, and shook his head in annoyance. ‘I may have to buy a new one at the end of this season, too,’ Harry added. ‘League champions two years running. Admittedly the final league game against Tutshill isn’t a foregone conclusion, but at least the Harpies are playing at home.’ ‘There’s more to Quidditch than good results,’ said Ron unhappily. Ron’s team, Chudley Cannons, were (as usual) simply hoping to avoid finishing last in the league. Harry took pity on him and, after taking a gulp of tea, he changed the subject. Leaning back in his chair he told his friends about the visits he and Ginny had made to the Dursleys. As he spoke, he could see Hermione glancing anxiously at the clock. It was approaching ten when he finished his tale, and his tea. ‘I told you to visit them years ago, just after the Battle! That’s almost three years ago,’ Hermione scolded. ‘Honestly, Harry! Why did it take you so long?’ ‘He wasn’t ready, Hermione,’ Ginny’s said decisively as she scampered down the stairs into the kitchen. ‘And having met them, I can understand why. But now we’ve visited, I’m sure we’ll see them again. We can all expect an invitation to Dudley’s twenty-first birthday party. And we’re all going!’ Harry turned and watched as Ginny breezed into the kitchen. She brought with her the scent of flowers and a bright cheeriness. She was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and looked clean, fresh, wide awake and beautiful. He smiled contentedly at her. ‘You,’ Ginny ordered, pointing at him. ‘Washed, dressed and shaved, now.’ There was a teasing tone in her order, but Harry knew that she was right. They needed to leave soon. ‘Yes, boss.’ Harry winked at his girlfriend, put his empty mug on the table, and left. He hadn’t had any breakfast, but he could afford to miss it. They had eaten late last night; and he knew from years of experience that Molly would start feeding them the second they arrived. When Harry returned to the kitchen, showered, shaved, and dressed, Ron was the only one there. ‘You were bloody ages in that shower. Hermione was desperate to leave, and she was starting to panic, you know what she’s like,’ Ron said apologetically. ‘Because you were taking so long, the girls left twenty minutes ago. Ginny says that I’ve got to tell you that she’s taken your eggs, so don’t waste time looking for them. Hermione’s got ours, too. I said I’d wait, for you. I mean, we can get to The Burrow in an instant, if we want.’ ‘Yeah, I was thinking I’d just Apparate over. What’s the fuss about the car?’ Harry asked. ‘I knew you weren’t listening properly when she told you on Wednesday night,’ said Ron, shaking his head despairingly. ‘Hermione’s dad’s sister and her husband emigrated to Canada years ago. They’re over to visit, and they are staying with John and Jean. They arrived yesterday, and they “simply have to meet” Hermione’s boyfriend, and the “old school friends” they’ve heard so much about.’ ‘I’d remembered about her aunt and uncle’s visit,’ Harry protested. ‘But what’s that got to do with… Oh, we won’t be able to Apparate to the Grangers, will we?’ ‘Exactly, magically arriving in the back garden, like we usually do, isn’t an option,’ Ron reminded his friend. ‘They’re called Alan and Geraldine Barker, and they’re Muggles. They have a son and a daughter, both older than Hermione. The last time I saw the Grangers, Jean told me that they’re a really nice couple. But I think she’s still rather worried. She wants us to be on our best behaviour.’ ‘We always are,’ said Harry. ‘If Jean says they’re nice, they probably are,’ said Ron. ‘But I think Jean really meant, don’t make any slip ups. You’re lucky that tomorrow is a one-off for you and Ginny. I’ll be seeing them loads more times; they’re here for a month. Think of all of the opportunities I’ll have to do, or say, something stupid.’ ‘I hope you can cope,’ said Harry sympathetically. ‘Just be careful, Ron. Hermione won’t be happy if she’s forced to Obliviate her relatives. I don’t think John and Jean will like it, either. But these days you’re much better when you’re in the Muggle world, mate.’ He picked up his dragonskin jacket and pulled it on. ‘Are you going to Apparate, use the Floo network, or do you want a lift on the bike?’ ‘Reckon you can catch them on the bike?’ Ron asked. ‘Easily,’ Harry grinned. ‘It can fly, remember?’ ‘I don’t know why Hermione won’t let us enchant her car,’ said Ron. ‘We’d never be late if it could fly and turn invisible.’ ‘It’s her car, and her decision.’ Harry reminded his friend. ‘Besides, her mobile phone wouldn’t work in the car if she did. Remember the last time she brought her phone into this place? She had to buy a new battery.’ ‘She doesn’t actually need that phone, not now that we’ve figured out how to connect it to the Muggle telephone system,’ said Ron. ‘It’s not a good connection, Ron, and we have to go through an operator in the Ministry, so it isn’t secure, either. I hope George will be able to solve the connection problem with the Mark Seven. After all, you’re both making a fortune off the things.’ ‘Yeah, but unless we can sell people an improved version, we’ll eventually run out of customers,’ said Ron. ‘Do you know that in the past six months seventy-five percent of all witches and wizards under the age of twenty-one have bought one. It’s incredible how much money we’re making.’ ‘You could quit, you know,’ Harry told him. ‘We can cope without you.’ ‘Thanks,’ said Ron sarcastically. ‘You aren’t indispensable, either, you know! But a promise is a promise. I’m staying until we capture Goyle. And, besides, George would be very annoyed if I didn’t.’ Harry picked up Ginny’s helmet and handed it to Ron. ‘We’d better go. You’ll probably need to put a stretching spell on this, bighead.’ They were flying over Ilminster when they spotted Hermione’s car in the distance. Harry flew down onto a quiet side road just ahead of the Mini, and turned off the invisibility booster. As they roared up to a junction, Hermione drove past on the main road. Harry pulled out onto the main road and kicked the bike up through the gears, accelerating hard. As he did so, Ron laughed. ‘Flying on the bike was great, but this is bloody brilliant,’ Ron yelled as the ground flashed past beneath his feet. They hurtled along the road, ignoring the speed limit, and soon caught up to their girlfriends. Both young men waved as they tore past the Mini and thundered off into the distance. Ten minutes later, just after Honiton, Harry pulled off the dual carriageway. They followed the narrow country lane which ran parallel to the main road for a few miles before finally turning left and heading to the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole. Just before they reached the village itself, Harry turned into the narrow overgrown lane which led to The Burrow. The lane was little more than two wheel tracks and Harry was forced to slow down. As they approached the gate, he lifted the bike into the air. They cleared the weatherworn wooden gate by a couple of feet, and Harry landed the bike some fifty yards from the gate, on the gravel yard outside The Burrow. Even before he had stopped the bike, the kitchen door opened and Arthur was striding excitedly towards them. Ginny’s father was closely followed by Charlie, and Bill. ‘Well?’ Arthur asked eagerly. ‘It’s brilliant, Dad,’ said Ron. ‘It looks and sounds like a motorbike, it flies really well, and the invisibility booster works perfectly,’ Harry added. ‘Ginny and I took it on a long journey yesterday.’ ‘It’s amazing on the ground, too,’ Ron added. ‘You feel like you’re going really fast, even if you’re only doing seventy miles an hour, it’s brilliant.’ ‘You’ve already said that once, Ron,’ Charlie said. ‘And it’s obvious from the stupid grin on your face that you think “it’s brilliant”.’ They were still discussing the bike ten minutes later, when Hermione and Ginny arrived. Harry, who’d been listening out for Ginny’s arrival, heard the car approaching down the track. He left the Weasley men clustered around the bike and dashed across to the five-bar gate which he’d flown over. It was some distance from the yard, and he wasn’t quite quick enough. By the time he reached the gate, Hermione had stopped her car, and Ginny had climbed out from it. As he reached the gate and unlatched it, Ginny leaned into the car, and spoke. ‘Just go, I’ll walk back with Harry,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry, Hermione, I’ll tell him,’ she added as she closed the car door. Harry pulled open the gate, and waved Hermione through with a bow and a flourish. Hermione, however, didn’t seem to be amused. ‘Hermione thinks that you were driving much too fast, and that your overtaking manoeuvre was dangerous. I promised her that I’ll tell you off,’ said Ginny by way of greeting, as she followed the car through the gate. She raised her hand and wagged an admonishing finger. ‘Never do that again–within sight of Hermione,’ she told him with a wink. Harry grinned, and closed the gate. ‘Don’t let Hermione catch me doing something she doesn’t approve of. Got it,’ he said. ‘I’m very disappointed in you, Harry,’ Ginny told him seriously. ‘I thought you’d learned that lesson years ago.’ Harry laughed. ‘When I’m enjoying myself, I forget,’ he said. He turned, leaned against the gate, and took in the scene. Ginny grabbed his shoulders, kissed him, and then moved alongside him and slipped her arm around his waist. He reciprocated and they looked over the family scene being enacted in front of them. ‘My house in Beaumaris is nice, but in a lot of ways this is still my home,’ Ginny said contentedly, ‘especially when the family are all here.’ Molly’s extended family had a standing invitation to Sunday lunch at The Burrow once a fortnight. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione and George rarely missed this opportunity for a big family meal. Percy, together with Bill, Fleur and Victoire were also regular, though not so frequent, attendees. Charlie, however, only made it across from Romania for special occasions, like today, Easter Sunday. The Weasleys’ eccentric and rather ramshackle home was about a hundred yards from where Harry and Ginny stood and watched. The Burrow was nestled in a hollow, and bathed in spring sunshine. On the hill behind the house the orchard was beginning to blossom, creating an idyllic scene. The Weasley clan was gathering on the gravel yard in front of the kitchen door. Harry let out a contented murmur as he leaned against the gate in the arms of his girl. He watched her family, the only family he had, and wondered whether he would ever be relaxed and comfortable in the presence of the Dursleys. Ginny seemed to sense his mood, as she squeezed his waist in reassurance. Fleur, with little Victoire cradled on her hip, had joined Bill, Charlie, and Arthur next to the bike. As Harry watched, Bill took the newest Weasley from his wife’s arms and sat the little girl on the bike. Charlie was pulling faces at Victoire. Arthur, his arms flailing enthusiastically, was obviously expounding on something to Fleur. Harry was confident that it would almost certainly be something technical, which Arthur didn’t actually understand himself, but he knew that wouldn’t prevent him from attempting to explain it. Fleur was smiling and nodding with a polite grace which only she could muster. Ron had walked over to greet Hermione and they were standing next to her car. He’d been smiling as he’d approached. Now, from his stance and hers, it was obvious that he was being berated by his girlfriend. ‘Don’t blame me, Hermione. It’s Harry’s fault. He was driving, and it was his idea to land behind you and to overtake you at ninety miles an hour,’ said Ginny in a fair approximation of her brother’s tone. As she spoke, Ron’s defensive stance vanished, and Hermione appeared flustered. ‘But, you know, you’re bloody gorgeous when you’re annoyed,’ Ginny added, still mimicking Ron. Harry chuckled. ‘He’s obviously said something to knock her off her stride, but “bloody gorgeous”? I don’t know about that.’ There was a distant popping noise, and they both looked up to the orchard. ‘Perce and Audrey,’ said Ginny, surprised. ’They’re very late, for them at least. It’s a little after one.’ They both watched Percy and his fiancée, Audrey Midgen, move out from under the trees. Percy’s hands were clasped behind his back, and he was striding away from his girlfriend. ‘Have I told you about the new Ministry parchment order, I masterminded, Audrey? Don’t dawdle, please,’ said Harry, joining in his girlfriend’s game and suggesting dialogue for her bespectacled brother. As he spoke, Percy stopped, and moved his hands. Audrey caught up, and, to Harry’s astonishment smacked Percy’s bottom. ‘I weren’t dawdling, I were trying to admire yer arse, but yer hands were covering it, ye daft sod,’ Ginny provided as she tried to mimic Audrey’s Yorkshire accent. They both burst out laughing. ‘Time to go and say hello,’ said Ginny. She took Harry’s hand and they left their vantage point at the gate. As they strolled forwards, they were still chuckling. ‘I wonder if George is here yet?’ asked Harry as they walked hand-in-hand towards Ginny’s family. ‘Definitely not,’ said Ginny. ‘If he was, he’d be looking at the bike with the others.’ ‘I hope he doesn’t bring Romilda again,’ said Harry, shuddering. ‘You’re only saying that because of the bet,’ Ginny teased. ‘The money is yours, and you know it is. He wouldn’t dare bring her back. Mum would kill him.’ Ginny paused. ‘Actually, there would be a queue, and I think Dad would be first. He actually went to the shop last week and “had a word” with George about his guests. He might come alone.’ As they approached the others, Charlie turned and strolled over to greet them. He held out a hand, which Harry took. ‘Hello, Harry,’ Charlie said as they shook hands. Charlie’s hand was calloused and his grip was firm. ‘Good to see you.’ ‘Hello, Charlie, it’s been a while,’ Harry replied. ‘How are things in Romania?’ ‘Fine,’ said Charlie. ‘That friend of yours is settling in, but I don’t think he’ll stay.’ ‘I don’t think Justin wants a career as a dragon-handler,’ said Harry. ‘He doesn’t. He’s either seeing the wizarding world, or avoiding one, or more, of his exes,’ said Ginny. She stepped up to her brother and poked his stomach. ‘Hello dragon-boy, you’re getting fat. You only visit at Christmas and Easter! It would make Mum happy if you were home more often.’ ‘Hello, Harpy,’ said Charlie as he pulled his sister into a bone-crushing hug. ‘Still cheeking your betters, I see! Why should I always be the one to travel? You could always come and visit me. I’ve invited Mum and Dad; they’re thinking about it. Let’s face it, these days they can afford a proper holiday.’ As he spoke there was another popping noise in the distance, and they all looked up the hill towards the orchard. ‘Blimey!’ said Harry. ‘Angelina,’ Ginny said, as she looked at the young woman accompanying George down the hill. ‘Angelina,’ said Charlie thoughtfully. He stared at the tall black girl, a puzzled look on his face. ‘Is her last name Johnson? Is she the little second year who joined the Gryffindor team in my final year?’ ‘Yes,’ said Harry and Ginny simultaneously. ‘Blimey, she’s grown up,’ said Charlie. ‘I’d never have recognised her. She was a goofy little thing, but bloody good in the air.’ ‘And she’s definitely not Romilda, Harry, so you win the sweep again,’ said Ginny. ‘Sweep?’ asked Charlie. ‘If you turned up more often, you’d know about the “George’s Girlfriend Sweepstake”,’ Ginny told her brother. ‘He usually brings a girl to dinner and we always put money on how many times she’ll be back. The record so far is nine visits. Verity, who used to work for him, and Fleur’s cousin Claudine, both lasted that long. Two weeks ago, on his birthday, he brought Romilda Vane. Harry chose “once only”. It was a safe bet really, nobody thought she would be coming back.’ ‘Better warn Justin when you get back to Romania,’ Harry said, ‘Ron and I reckon that apart from Dennis Creevey, he’s the only male DA member Romilda hasn’t made a pass at.’ ‘Don’t be silly, Harry,’ Ginny told him, ‘There’s Lee, Seamus, Terry and Michael too. Maybe we should start a book on Romilda, Harry. Which boy is next?’ Charlie listened in astonishment to his sister, snorting in disbelief. ‘The winner gets first pick.’ Ginny ignored her brother, ‘So Harry?’ ‘Angelina will be another one off,’ Harry said, handing back one of the Galleons. ‘Are you in Charlie?’ Ginny asked. ‘Best be quick, Ron’s on his way to place his bet.’ ‘This is cruel,’ Charlie said. ‘We’d bet on you too, if we thought there was a chance you’d ever bring a girl home, or a boy.’ Ginny told him. ‘You’re a brave man, Harry, sticking with this spitfire,’ Charlie grinned, ’I’ll take six visits.’ He handed Ginny a galleon. ‘I’ll take a hundred, or more,’ Ginny said as Ron arrived. Harry looked at her in astonishment, and did a quick calculation. ‘A hundred fortnights, that’s almost four years!’ Harry said. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘Yeah, that’s ridiculous, Ginny,’ said Ron as he joined them. Ginny shook her head. ‘You’ll see,’ she told them confidently. ‘What about you, Ron?’ ‘It’s another one off,’ said Ron. ‘Too late,’ Harry told him. ‘We all know that they’re usually one-offs in April, and until after Battle Remembrance Day in May.’ ‘Sod,’ Ron replied. ‘Okay, I’ll take two visits.’ ‘Right, that only leaves Bill and Perce,’ said Ginny. ‘Perce is in?’ Charlie asked. ‘He wasn’t at first, but Audrey told him he was being boring, so he changed his mind.’ Ginny looked past Charlie, and waved. ‘Hi, Angelina. Charlie wants to know if you’re the goofy little second year who joined his Quidditch team.’ Molly had excelled herself. In the years since The Battle, Harry had become used to the idea that Easter was almost another Christmas. When, at two o’clock, Molly called everyone into the kitchen, the table was groaning under the weight of an almost ostrich-sized turkey with all the trimmings. Before everyone took their seats, they ritually exchanged chocolate eggs. Angelina apologised to Molly for not bringing eggs for everyone. ‘In my family, only the little children get eggs,’ Angelina told her, fishing a large Honeydukes' egg from her bag and presenting it to Victoire, who, with eggs from her grandparents, uncles, and aunt, was almost lost in the mountain of chocolate. ‘So, where’s mine?’ George asked. ‘You keep telling me I’m childish.’ ‘I do, don’t I?’ said Angelina. ‘I know what you’re like George, yours is here.’ She pulled a small egg from her bag which, despite his mother’s protestations, George insisted on eating as his first course. ‘It’s only a mouthful,’ he said defiantly, as Molly placed a tray of roast potatoes onto the table in front of him. His mother reached for her wand, but before she could stop him, George pushed the whole egg into his mouth, bit down hard, and began to chew. ‘Something wrong, George?’ Ginny asked as she passed a bowl of glazed carrots down the table to Fleur. Harry, who had been pouring gravy onto his already fully laden plate, looked across the table and realised that George was sweating. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched as George’s face reddened. For a moment Harry thought that George, his cheeks bulging, was going to spit the masticated mess of chocolate out onto his plate. A lava-hot glare, and the word ‘Manners,’ from his mother, was enough to stop him. ‘Don’t you like the egg?’ Angelina asked solicitously. ‘Last weekend, after we’d been to that fish and chip restaurant, you told me that you preferred spicy food. So I bought you a chocolate and jalapeno Easter egg.’ A nasal, ‘Hnnnng,’ was all George could manage as his family erupted with laughter. Eyes bulging, George swallowed, gasped, and gulped down the glass of white wine in front of him. ‘More,’ he demanded. Molly shook her head firmly, and instead poured him a large glass of water, which he also downed. ‘That wasn’t fair. I didn’t do anything to deserve that!’ George protested as he used his napkin to wipe the sweat from beneath his eyes. ‘Your mum told you not to eat it,’ Angelina told him. ‘Perhaps you should listen to her.’ ‘You should,’ said his mother, nodding. There was laughter, and murmurs of agreement, from around the table. ‘You’re my family! Why is no one on my side?’ asked George petulantly. ‘Romilda,’ Ginny managed to say the name while noisily clearing her throat, and the laughter continued. ‘You want stuffing, George?’ asked Percy. He had a spoonful of sage and onion in his hand, but there was a mild threat in his voice. Audrey gave a surprisingly guttural chortle. ‘I hate you all,’ said George cheerfully. He shook his head, and began to pile food his plate. As was often the case at The Burrow, it was one of those meals where there wasn’t enough room on the table for all of the food. Even so the dishes were quickly emptied, and the main course seemed to be finished in no time. Harry was certain that this was because the conversation around the laden table had been full of bad jokes and good cheer. It was definitely much more upbeat and enjoyable than the disastrous meal two weeks earlier, from which he and Ginny had fled. George’s Birthday dinner was always a little awkward, but George’s guest, Romilda, had managed to insult almost everyone at the table. As a consequence that meal had seemed to drag on forever. When Ron finally finished eating, Molly stood and began to clear the table. George, too, stood and began to help his mother. As last to arrive, it was his job to help his mother clear the table. Despite Molly’s protests, Angelina also helped. It took them only moments to clear the table and, the moment the main course had been removed, Fleur pulled out her wand. ‘Fleur has made dessert,’ said Molly. She sounded slightly worried. ‘This is Maman’s recipe, Clafoutis aux Cerises,’ Fleur announced. She levitated several large pie dishes onto the table. ‘I think you would call this cherry pie, but...’ ‘It isn’t like any cherry pie you’ll have eaten. If you need to know, it’s whole cherries baked in a sort of custard,’ said Bill, coming to the aid of his wife. ‘But really, it’s Clafoutis aux Cerises, and it’s delicious. One word of warning: when I say whole cherries, I mean it. They haven’t been stoned.’ Harry took his first bite, and agreed with Bill’s assessment; it was delicious. Soon Fleur, who was the only one at the table able to decorously remove the cherry stones from her mouth, was basking in praise. From Harry’s perspective dessert, too, seemed to be over in an instant. After the table was cleared and the dishes washed, everyone trooped outside. Arthur, Molly, Bill, Fleur and Charlie were happy to sit in the garden and watch over Victoire. Percy managed to corner Hermione, as he had some important ideas for improvements to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Harry managed to avoid being dragged into the conversation, and he and Ginny strolled up to the orchard. They settled themselves under a tree, leaned against the trunk, and looked out over the countryside. ‘It’s another nice day,’ said Ginny. ‘It’s always a nice day when I’m with you,’ said Harry promptly. Ginny elbowed him in the ribs. ‘I’ve read your copy of “Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches” you know,’ she told him. ‘I found it under the sofa in your sitting room last weekend.’ ‘I wondered where it had gone,’ Harry said. ‘I haven’t read it yet. Got any tips for me?’ ‘I don’t believe you,’ she said. ‘I haven’t,’ he protested. ‘Ron gave it to me on my seventeenth, but your present distracted me, and then things got a bit hectic. I found it a couple of weeks ago; when I finally unpacked all of the stuff I’d left at The Burrow. Your Dad gave me a box full of stuff after the funerals, but all I did was bring it all home and put it in the attic.’ ‘Things got a bit hectic,’ said Ginny, grinning at him. ‘You’re a master at understatement, Harry.’ ‘So on those occasions I tell you that you’re gorgeous, just think about what I’m really trying to say,’ he told her. ‘You must have read the damn book,’ Ginny protested. ‘Perhaps I’m simply happy,’ he suggested. ‘Like those two.’ He gestured towards George and Angelina, who were strolling up the hill towards them, bickering and joking. ‘It’s nice to see George smile,’ Harry observed. ‘But I don’t think Angelina will be back after that trick with the Easter egg.’ ‘It is nice,’ Ginny agreed. ‘And I’m certain that she will be back because of that trick with the Easter egg.’ Harry shrugged, and they watched George and Angelina approach. ‘Not interrupting anything, are we?’ George asked as he dropped down on to the grass, facing Harry and Ginny. ‘I was thinking about jumping on Harry, what do you want?’ Ginny asked. ‘I saw Dennis at the start of the Easter holidays,’ said George, staring accusingly at Harry. ‘He wants to know what’s going on. You could let him know, Harry.’ ‘I’ve got nothing to tell him,’ Harry said, shaking his head in regret. ‘When there is, he’ll be the first to know.’ ‘Know about what?’ Angelina asked as she lowered herself to sit alongside George. ‘You know that Harry found out who killed Colin Creevey, don’t you?’ Ginny asked. ‘Of course,’ said Angelina. ‘Alicia and Lee told me last year. It was that vicious Slytherin Beater, Gregory Goyle. They said we all had to keep a look out for a company called Mark D’arque, and for alcoholic pumpkin juice. They also said Goyle was likely to be with Marcus Flint, Miles Bletchley, and a couple of Slytherin girls from Harry’s year.’ ‘Millicent Bullstrode and Daphne Greengrass, yes,’ Harry told her. He turned to address George directly. ‘Finding Goyle is my top priority, George. We’ve been running down possible sightings from Shetland to Penzance and–it seems like–everywhere in between. They’ve all been false alarms. There is no sign of Goyle, or any of the others, anywhere; there hasn’t been for a year. If you’ve got any bright ideas about how to find them I’d like to hear them, because at the moment we’ve got nothing. We’ve been watching their accounts, but there has been no activity in any of them. Ron is convinced that they haven’t touched their account because Draco Malfoy has told them that’s how we managed to track Rabastan Lestrange.’ ‘Harry thinks that Malfoy won’t have told them, because he’s changed,’ said Ginny. ‘I agree with Ron. I haven’t seen anything to persuade me that he isn’t the same nasty, cowardly little bully he’s always been.’ ‘Narcissa Malfoy is convinced that Goyle wants to kill Draco, and so is Draco. I think the Malfoys have told use everything they know because they want Goyle captured.’ Harry looked at his girlfriend apologetically, unwilling to argue. ‘Susan, Lavender and Terry have been working on the assumption that it’s Theodore Nott, not Malfoy, who is feeding information to the fugitives, ‘Personally, I think that it’s more likely that Nott is telling Pansy, and Pansy is talking to Daphne.’ ‘Theodore Nott, eh?’ said George. ‘I’ve heard a lot about the Notts, and their business practices. The rumours say that they were the only people old man Parkinson wasn’t prepared to cross. They say that if you annoy them, something nasty will happen to you. But no one can ever prove that the Notts had anything to do with it.’ ‘Yeah,’ said Harry grimly. ‘You should see the files Susan and Terry have compiled on Theodore Nott.’ He placed his hands more than a yard apart to demonstrate. ‘But Theodore Nott definitely hasn’t been transferring money to them, so we have no idea what they are living on, or where they are buying stuff. The wanted posters are everywhere, but every sighting we’ve had has been a case of mistaken identity.’ ‘Perhaps they are hiding in the Muggle world,’ Ron suggested, as he and a rather flustered looking Hermione joined them under the trees. ‘Don’t be silly, Ron,’ Hermione said. ‘They’re all Muggle-hating Purebloods. They’d never live among Muggles, they’re simply using Polyjuice potion.’ ‘That’s why the legislation has been amended to include Boomslang skin and Bicorn horn in the list of Class B Tradeable Materials, isn’t it?’ asked Angelina, suddenly enlightened. ‘You’re trying to reduce the availability of Polyjuice potion ingredients.’ Harry nodded. ‘That explains a lot,’ said Angelina. ‘It’s created a lot of extra work for us poor folk in “Magical Creatures”, hasn’t it, Hermione?’ Hermione nodded. ‘But not as much as the reorganisation Percy has just suggested,’ she said. ‘Honestly, Ginny, I know that Percy often has good ideas, but sometimes I think he simply likes to create more paperwork for everyone.’ ‘I thought you enjoyed paperwork, Hermione,’ said Ginny. ‘Yes, we work for the Ministry, Hermione,’ Angelina reminded her. ‘Paperwork comes with the job; we might as well enjoy it.’ She looked at the assembled group. ‘So, there’s no sign of anyone on your “Most Wanted” list?’ ‘No,’ Ron confirmed. ‘If only there was a way to break a Fidelius Charm.’ Angelina looked puzzled. ‘We have information that Goyle’s parent’s house is hidden under a Fidelius Charm and we’re working on the theory that they are hiding there, and only coming out for supplies,’ Harry explained. ‘We even think we know where. According to Malfoy, the Goyles lived in a place called Garr Hall. It’s supposedly on an island off the west coast of Ireland, one of the Gorumna Islands. But it seems that the entire island is hidden under the Charm.’ ‘Enough Auror talk,’ said Ginny. ‘Where did you buy that chocolate egg, Angelina? There are a couple of Harpies I’d like to buy a nice present for.’ The afternoon flew over, and before Harry knew it, it was dusk and they were being fed what Molly considered to be “a light tea”. There was a mountain of cold meat, pickles, freshly baked bread, and salad to plough through. Bill, Fleur and a very sleepy Victoire departed soon after tea, and Percy and Audrey followed closely behind. Angelina, however, resisted George’s attempts to drag her away and instead insisted that they stay and join in a game of exploding snap. Harry, along with Ron, Ginny and Hermione were staying overnight, and travelling to Hermione’s parents’ house the following morning. Harry and Ron shared George and Fred’s old room, Ginny and Hermione shared Bill and Charlie’s old room, and Charlie was relegated to Ron’s old room in the attic. Ginny’s suggestion, at Christmas, that she and Harry might share had been dismissed by Molly and accompanied by a very long lecture, the recollection of which still made Harry squirm. It was obvious that Molly knew that Ginny and Harry often spent the night together, but also that she would not allow it under her own roof. Ginny had, for once, given in to her mother’s wishes. After breakfast at The Burrow, Ron and Hermione said their farewells. After a hug and kiss from Charlie which left her rather flustered, Hermione set off to drive her boyfriend the hundred miles back to her parents’ home in Itchen Worthy. Harry and Ginny waited for twenty minutes before following, because Ginny wanted to know how fast the bike would go on the ground. Despite their delayed start, they managed to catch Hermione just after Winchester. At that point Harry slowed down, and they stayed behind Hermione for the final few miles of the journey. Hermione’s Aunt Gerry and Uncle Alan were good, if inquisitive, company, and the four youngsters spent a pleasant and relaxing Easter Monday with them, and with Hermione’s parents. When Alan and Gerry Barker discovered that Hermione’s flat was in Chelsea, and that it overlooked the Thames, several hints were dropped. Hermione gave in to the inevitable, and invited them to spend a weekend in the city. The evening ended with a meal in the local pub, “The Cricketers”, and it was late in the evening when Harry and Ginny on the bike, and Ron and Hermione in the Mini, finally set out to return to London. |
| Reviews 176 |
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