the gentle moon / george weasley

just a scratch!

"Should we do something?" August said as she and the twins ​​looked over at Ron's crumpled figure on the ground.

"I haven't got the heart to take the mickey out of him, even," said Fred, "Mind you . . . when he missed the fourteenth..." He made wild motions with his arms as though doing an upright doggy paddle.

The very best thing you could say about the match was that it was short; the Gryffindor spectators had to endure only twenty-two minutes of agony. It was hard to say what the worst thing was: August thought it was a close-run contest between Ron's fourteenth failed save, Sloper missing the Bludger but hitting Angelina in the mouth with his bat, and August getting kicked out of the game by Umbridge for her 'crude' commentary. Which most people were surprised by because it was probably the only match August didn't curse.

"It's been an honor." Lee came into view, sticking his hand out to her, "I couldn't have gotten through those matches without my partner."

"It's been a hell of a ride," August laughed, shaking his hand, "It was bound to happen." She shrugged.

"You didn't even curse." Lee scoffed, walking over to the couch, and stepping over Ron's body.

"No, I just needed to speak." August joked, picking Ron off the floor as his brothers stepped over his legs.

"It really is changing..." Ron whispered to her, looking up at her in her arms. August looked down at him confused, "She's taking you away..."

"Oh, hush." August smiled, straightening out his shirt, "It's just quidditch, I never wanted to do it in the first place. Lee forced me."

______

They entered the Great Hall for breakfast at exactly the same moment as the post owls on Monday morning. Nearly everyone was eager for more news about the escaped Death Eaters, who, despite many reported sightings, had still not been caught. August was mid-yawn when an owl flew in, landing almost into her coffee. Harry leaned forward and saw his name written out on the letter in its beak, and before August could ask him who it was from, another one landed on her shoulder with a letter addressed to her.

"You're not Canis," August said, lifting her hand to its beak. Harry was about to ask her who had written her when three, four, no five more owls had fluttered down between them and were jockeying for position, treading in the butter, knocking over the salt, and each attempting to give them their letters first.

"What's going on?" Ron asked in amazement, as the whole of Gryffindor table leaned forward to watch as another seven owls landed amongst the first ones, screeching, hooting, and flapping their wings between August and Harry. August and Harry shared a confused and amused look with one another.

"Harry!" said Hermione breathlessly, plunging her hands into the feathery mass and pulling out a screech owl bearing a long, cylindrical package. "I think I know what this means — open this one first!"

Harry ripped off the brown packaging. Out rolled a tightly furled copy of March's edition of The Quibbler. He unrolled it to see his own and August's faces grinning sheepishly at him from the front cover. It was a photo Luna took of them after the first task. In large red letters across their picture were the words:

HARRY POTTER SPEAKS OUT AT LAST:

THE TRUTH ABOUT HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE-NAMED

AND THE NIGHT WE SAW HIM RETURN

August's eyes snapped up at Harry, who was already looking at her with wide eyes.