whispered Mrs. Weasley, leaning across Ginny to speak to him as the train rattled along through its dark tunnel. "You don't look very well. Are you feeling sick?"
Harry shook his head violently. After that eavesdrop incident, Percy had dragged Harry off to the tearoom and it failed miserably because right now, it seems that Harry was having a panic attack. He took him to his mother on third floor and she admitted him a dose of drought of peace which didn't make a difference.
"Harry, dear, are you sure you're all right?" said Mrs. Weasley in aworried voice, as they walked around the unkempt patch of grass inthe middle of Grimmauld Place. "You look ever so pale. . . . Are yousure you slept this morning? You go upstairs to bed right now, andyou can have a couple of hours' sleep before dinner, all right?"
He nodded. so when she opened thefront door he proceeded straight past the troll's leg umbrella stand andup the stairs and hurried into his and Ron's bedroom.
It was around six o'clock in the evening that the doorbell rang andMrs. Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus orsome other Order member had come to call, but it was actually Hermione and his mother who had decided to join them instead of her parents.
"How's Harry holding up." Hermione asked, her voice full of concern.
Percy shook his head. He looked at his mother. She was very muggle clothes but she looked very tired.
"Mum are you okay?" asked Percy.
"Oh I'm fine," said Sally yawning. "Double shift yesterday. Our trainne healer fed six patients draught of death. Not peace. I had to stay up all night fixing that idiot's mistakes."
"Oh." said Percy. "Well Sirius is there. You could have a chat with him."
"Oh I want to have a word with Padfoot" Sally said and entered the house.
Percy nodded and he turned to Hermione. "How did you get here?"
"Knight bus. Come on let's go get Harry." and taking his arm (he's not complaining) they went to Buckbeak's room.
When they reached the door of Buckbeak's room, Hermione hammered hard on the door a few minutes later.
"I know you're in there," said Hermione's. "Will you pleasecome out? Me and Percy wants to talk to you."
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked her, pulling open the door, as Buckbeak resumed his scratching at the straw-strewn floor for anyfragments of rat he might have dropped "I thought you were skiingwith your mum and dad."
"Well, to tell the truth, skiing's not really my thing," said Hermione. "So I've come for Christmas. But don't tell Ron that, I told him it's reallygood because he kept laughing so much. Anyway, Mum and Dad area bit disappointed, but I've told them that everyone who's seriousabout the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to dowell, they'll understand. Anyway," she said briskly, "let's go to yourbedroom, Ron's mum's lit a fire in there and she's sent up sandwiches."
Harry followed them back to the second floor. When he entered thebedroom Ron and Ginny waitingfor them, sitting on Ron's bed.
"I came on the Knight Bus," said Hermione airily, pulling off herjacket before Harry had time to speak. "Dumbledore told me whathad happened first thing this morning, but I had to wait for term toend officially before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lotdisappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's, and he'd given you all permission tovisit. So . . ."
She sat down next to Ginny, and the two girls, Percy and Ron looked upat Harry.
"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione.
"Fine," said Harry stiffly
"Harry you are many things, but you are a horrible liar mate." Percy said. Harry didn't say anything.
"Oh, don't lie, Harry," she said impatiently. "Percy, Ron and Ginny sayyou've been hiding from everyone since you got back from St.Mungo's."
"They do, do they?" said Harry, glaring at Percy, Ron and Ginny. Ronlooked down at his feet but Ginny and Percy seemed quite unabashed.
"Well, you have!" she said. "And you won't look at any of us!"
"It's you lot who won't look at me!" said Harry angrily.
"Maybe you're taking it in turns to look and keep missing eachother," suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching and Percy couldn't help but smile.
"Very funny," snapped Harry, turning away.
"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood," said Hermione sharply."Look, the others have told me what you overheard last night on theExtendable Ears —"
"Yeah?" growled Harry, his hands deep in his pockets as he watchedthe snow now falling thickly outside. "All been talking about me, haveyou? Well, I'm getting used to it. . . ."
"We wanted to talk to you, Harry," said Ginny, "but as you've beenhiding ever since we got back —"
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me," said Harry, who was feelingmore and more nettled.
"Well, that was a bit stupid of you," said Ginny angrily, "seeing asyou don't know anyone but me who's been possessed by You-Know-Who, and I can tell you how it feels."
Harry remained quite
"I forgot," he said.
"Lucky you," said Ginny coolly.
"I'm sorry," Harry said, and he meant it. "So . . . so do you thinkI'm being possessed, then?"
"Well, can you remember everything you've been doing?" Ginnyasked. "Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you'vebeen up to?"
"No," he said.
"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you," said Ginny simply. "When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doingfor hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how Igot there."
"That dream I had about your dad and the snake, though —"
"Harry, you've had these dreams before," Hermione said. "You hadflashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."
"This was different," said Harry, shaking his head. "I was insidethat snake. It was like I was the snake. . . . What if Voldemort somehow transported me to London — ?"
"One day," said Hermione, sounding thoroughly exasperated,"you'll read Hogwarts, A History, and perhaps that will remind youthat you can't Apparate or Disapparate inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."
"You didn't leave your bed, mate," said Ron. "I saw you thrashingaround in your sleep about a minute before we could wake you up. . . ."
Apparently, Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially athaving Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen hostof the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more, than they would have done atHogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day,cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they allwent to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable. Thetarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but withgarlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magical snow glitteredin heaps over the threadbare carpets; a great Christmas tree, obtainedby Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's familytree from view; and even the stuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards
Percy awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents atthe foot of his bed and Ron and Harry already through opening their own,rather larger, piles.
"Good haul this year," he informed Percy through a cloud of paper. "Thanks for the Broom Compass, it's excellent, beats Hermione's — she's got me a homework planner —"
Percy sorted through his presents and found one with Hermione'shandwriting on it. She had given him too a book that resembled a diary, except that it said things like "Do it today or later you'll pay!" everytime he opened a page. Although pinned in the first page was a mistletoe.
"What's that?" said Ron peering forward.
"Diary." said Percy clasping it shut
Hagrid hadsent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an antitheft device, but unfortunately prevented Percy putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Ron had given him an enormous box of chocolate cauldrons and in return, he gave him quidditch shoulder, chest, knee pads and gloves with his own signature.
; Mr. andMrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies; His mother, mini bite-size blue cakes and a Gryffindor scarf and a small model and his house-elf sent had knitted a green woolly hat
Then, with a loud crack, Fred andGeorge Apparated at the foot of his bed.
"Merry Christmas," said George. "Don't go downstairs for a bit."
"Why not?" said Ron.
"Mum's crying again," said Fred heavily. "Percy sent back hisChristmas jumper."
"Without a note," added George. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything. . . ."
"We tried to comfort her," said Fred, moving around the bed tolook at Harry's portrait. "Told her Percy's nothing more than a humongous pile of rat droppings —"
"— didn't work," said George, helping himself to a ChocolateFrog. "So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer her up before we godown for breakfast, I reckon."
"What's that supposed to be anyway?" asked Fred, squinting atDobby's painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."
"It's Harry!" said George, pointing at the back of the picture. "Saysso on the back!"
"Good likeness," said Fred, grinning.
Harry threw his new homework diary at him; it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where itsaid happily, "If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may dowhatever you please!"
They got up and dressed; they could hear various inhabitants of thehouse calling "Merry Christmas" to each other. On their way downstairs they met Hermione. "Thanks for the book, Harry!" she saidhappily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! and o And that perfume is really unusual, Ron."
They got up and dressed; they could hear various inhabitants of thehouse calling "Merry Christmas" to each other. On their way downstairs they met Hermione. "Thanks for the book, Harry!" she saidhappily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages!And thanks for the Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms Percy. Although the perfume is really unusual, Ron."
"No problem," said Ron. "Who's that for anyway?" he added, nodding at the neatly wrapped presents she was carrying.
"Kreacher," said Hermione brightly.
"Oh Hermione." Percy hesitated. "If they're clothes, he won't like it"
"It isn't clothes," said Hermione, "although if I had my way I'd certainly give him something to wear other than that filthy old rag. No,it's a patchwork quilt, I thought it would brighten up his bedroom."
"What bedroom?" said Harry, dropping his voice to a whisper asthey were passing the portrait of Sirius's mother.
"Well, Sirius says it's not so much a bedroom, more a kind of —den," said Hermione. "Apparently he sleeps under the boiler in thatcupboard off the kitchen."
Mrs. Weasley was the only person in the basement when they arrived there. She was standing at the stove and sounded as though shehad a bad head cold when she wished them Merry Christmas, andthey all averted their eyes.
"So, this is Kreacher's bedroom?" said Ron, strolling over to a dingydoor in the corner opposite the pantry which Harry had never seenopen.
"Den." Percy corrected.
"Yes," said Hermione, now sounding a little nervous. "Er . . . Ithink we'd better knock . . ."
Ron rapped the door with his knuckles but there was no reply.
"He must be sneaking around upstairs," he said, and without further ado pulled open the door. "Urgh."
Harry peered inside. Most of the cupboard was taken up with avery large and old-fashioned boiler, but in the foot's space underneath the pipes Kreacher had made himself something that looked like anest. A jumble of assorted rags and smelly old blankets were piled onthe floor and the small dent in the middle of it showed whereKreacher curled up to sleep every night. Here and there among thematerial were stale bread crusts and moldy old bits of cheese. In a farcorner glinted small objects and coins that Kreacherhad saved from Sirius's purge of the house. He hadalso managed to retrieve the silver-framed family photographs thatSirius had thrown away over the summer. Their glass might be shattered, but still the little black-and-white people inside them peeredhaughtily up at them,
By the looks of it, the picture of a dark, heavy-lidded woman wasKreacher's favorite photograph; he had placed it to the fore of all theothers and had mended the glass clumsily with Spellotape
"I think I'll just leave his present here," said Hermione, laying thepackage neatly in the middle of the depression in the rags and blanketsand closing the door quietly. "He'll find it later, that'll be fine. . . ."
"Come to think of it," said Sirius, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey as they closed the cupboard door, "has anyoneactually seen Kreacher lately?"
"I haven't seen him since the night we came back here," said Harry."You were ordering him out of the kitchen."
"Yeah . . ." said Sirius, frowning. "You know, I think that's the lasttime I saw him, too. . . . He must be hiding upstairs somewhere. . . ."
"He couldn't have left, could he?" said Percy. "I mean, when yousaid 'out,' maybe he literally you meant, get out of the house?"
"No, no, house-elves can't leave unless they're given clothes, they'retied to their family's house," said Sirius."They can leave the house if they really want to,"
Harry contradicted him. "Dobby did, he left the Malfoys' to give me warnings twoyears ago. He had to punish himself afterward, but he still managed it."
Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, "I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes outover my mother's old bloomers or something. . . . Of course, he mighthave crawled into the airing cupboard and died. . . . But I mustn't getmy hopes up. . . ."
Fred, George, and Ron laughed; Hermione and Percy however, lookedreproachful.
"Sirius." said Percy. "If you keep on being cruel to him, it's going to. . ."
but his advice was drowned by Christmas breakfast
After lunch, the Weasleys, Percy, Harry and Hermione were planning to pay Mr. Weasley another visit, escorted by Mad-Eye and Lupin. Mundungus turned up in time forChristmas pudding and trifle, having managed to "borrow" a car for the occasion, as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. Percy was ninety nine percent sure that the car was stolen. It had a similar Enlarging Spell putupon it as the Weasleys' old Ford anglia.Mrs. Weasley hesitated at the point of getting inside; Percy knew that her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of traveling without magic; finally the coldoutside and her children's pleading triumphed, and she settled herselfinto the backseat between Fred and Bill with good grace.
The journey to St. Mungo's was quite quick, as there was very littletraffic on the roads. A small trickle of witches and wizards were creeping furtively up the otherwise deserted street to visit the hospital.Percy and the others got out of the car, and Mundungus drove offaround the corner to wait for them; they strolled casually toward thewindow where the dummy in green nylon stood, then, one by one,stepped through the glass.
The reception area looked pleasantly festive: The crystal orbs thatilluminated St. Mungo's had been turned to red and gold so that theybecame gigantic, glowing Christmas baubles; holly hung around everydoorway, and shining white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each topped with a gleaming goldstar. It was less crowded than the last time they had been there, although halfway across the room
"Family argument, eh?" smirked the blonde witch behind the desk."You're the third I've seen today . . . Spell Damage, fourth floor . . ."
They found Mr. Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of histurkey dinner on a tray in his lap and a rather sheepish expression onhis face.
"Everything all right, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, after they hadall greeted Mr. Weasley and handed over their presents.
"Fine, fine," said Mr. Weasley, a little too heartily. "You — er —haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"
"No," said Mrs. Weasley suspiciously, "why?"
"Nothing, nothing," said Mr. Weasley airily, starting to unwrap hispile of gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get forChristmas? Oh, Harry — this is absolutely wonderful —"
He had just opened Harry's gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers.Mrs. Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr. Weasley's answer. As her husband leaned over to shake Harry's hand, she peered atthe bandaging under his nightshirt
"Arthur," she said,"you've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't needdoing until tomorrow."
"What?" said Mr. Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling thebed covers higher up his chest. "No, no — it's nothing — it's — I —"
He seemed to deflate under Mrs. Weasley's piercing gaze.
"Well — now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had anidea. . . . He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap andvery interested in . . . um . . . complementary medicine. . . . I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies . . . well, they're called stitches,Molly, and they work very well on — on Muggle wounds —"
Mrs. Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between ashriek and a snarl. Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to thewerewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at thecrowd around Mr. Weasley; Bill muttered something about gettinghimself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him,grinning.
"Do you mean to tell me," said Mrs. Weasley, her voice growinglouder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, "that you have been messing about withMuggle remedies?"
"Not messing about, Molly, dear," said Mr. Weasley imploringly."It was just — just something Pye and I thought we'd try — only,most unfortunately — well, with these particular kinds of wounds —it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped —"
"Meaning?"
"Well . . . well, I don't know whether you know what — whatstitches are?"
"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together," said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, "buteven you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid —"
"I fancy a cup of tea too," said Harry, jumping to his feet
"Me too." said Percy
Hermione, Ron, and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him.As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek,"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"
"Typical Dad," said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up thecorridor. "Stitches . . . I ask you . . ."
"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds," saidHermione fairly. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolvesthem or something. . . . I wonder where the tearoom is?"
"Fifth floor," said Harry, remembering the sign over the WelcomeWitch's desk.
They walked along the corridor through a set of double doors andfound a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-lookingHealers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron wasseriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearlyhad a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healerpursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out ofthe way.
" 'Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that willleave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now —"
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red."The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight aboutyour throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes —"
"I have not got spattergroit!"
"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master —"
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. "Now get back in your ownpicture and leave me alone!"He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedlystraight faces.
"What floor's this?"
"I think it's the fifth," said Hermione.
"Nah, it's the fourth," said Percy, "one more —"
But as he stepped onto the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked thestart of a corridor signposted spell damage. A man was peering outat them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blondhair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.
"Blimey!" said Ron, also staring at the man.
"That's Lockhart isn't he?" Percy asked.
"Oh my goodness," said Hermione suddenly, sounding breathless."Professor Lockhart!"
Their ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open thedoors and moved toward them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown.
"Well, hello there!" he said. "I expect you'd like my autograph,would you?"
"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry muttered to Ginny, whogrinned.
"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly,pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now,how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writingnow, you know!"
"Er — we don't want any at the moment, thanks," said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry, who asked, "Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn't you be in a ward?"
The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face. For a few moments hegazed intently at Harry, then he said, "Haven't we met?"
"Er . . . yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"
"Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?"
And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it wasrather alarming. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I?Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen,you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be leftout!"
But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice said, "Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have youwandered off to?"
A motherly looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair camebustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others.
"Oh Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on ChristmasDay too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can'tthink why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"
"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy told the Healer with anotherglittering smile. "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!"
"Listen to him," said the Healer, taking Lockhart's arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old. "Hewas rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that thisliking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, youknow, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmaspresents, the door's usually kept locked . . . not that he's dangerous!But," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "bit of a danger to himself,bless him. . . . Doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can'tremember how to get back. . . . It is nice of you to have come to see him —"
"Oh your here too Percy." the healer said brightly. "Your mother just left. She was feeling unwell."
"Unwell." said Percy alarmed.
"Yes don't worry." she said casually. "Bad cae of the flu. She appeared to Devon."
"Oh alright." said Percy "Thank you Miriam."
"No worries dear and are your friends visiting?"
"Er," said Ron, gesturing uselessly at the floor above, "actually,we were just — er —"
But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Ron's feeblemutter of "going to have a cup of tea" trailed away
They looked at one another rather hopelessly and then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor."Let's not stay long," Ron said quietly.The Healer pointed her wand at the door of the Janus Thickeyward and muttered "Alohomora."
The door swung open and she led the way inside, keeping a firm grasp on Gilderoy's arm until she hadsettled him into an armchair beside his bed."This is our long-term resident ward," she informed Harry, Ron,Hermione, and Ginny in a low voice.
"For permanent spell damage,you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms anda bit of luck, we can produce some improvement. . . . Gilderoy doesseem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we've seen a realimprovement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power ofspeech very well, though he isn't speaking any language we recognizeyet. . . . Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I'llleave you all to chat. . . ."
Percy looked around; this ward bore unmistakable signs of being apermanent home to its residents. They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr. Weasley's ward; the wall aroundGilderoy's headboard, for instance, was papered with pictures of himself, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals. He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed, childish writing.The moment he had been deposited in his chair by the Healer,Gilderoy pulled a fresh stack of photographs toward him, seized aquill, and started signing them all feverishly. 'Old habits die hard' Percy thought
"You can put them in envelopes," he said to Ginny, throwing thesigned pictures into her lap one by one as he finished them. "I am notforgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail.. . . Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly. . . . I just wish I knew why. . . ."He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returnedto his signing with renewed vigor. "I suspect it is simply my goodlooks. . . ."
A sallow-skinned, mournful-looking wizard lay in the bed opposite, staring at the ceiling; he was mumbling to himself and seemedquite unaware of anything around him. At thefar end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two bedsto give the occupants and their visitors some privacy.
"Here you are, Agnes," said the Healer brightly to the furry-facedwoman, handing her a small pile of Christmas presents. "See, not forgotten, are you? And your son's sent an owl to say he's visiting tonight,so that's nice, isn't it?"
Agnes gave several loud barks.
"And look, Broderick, you've been sent a potted plant and a lovelycalendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they'llbrighten things up, won't they?" said the Healer, bustling along to themumbling man, setting a rather ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles on the bedside cabinet and fixing the calendar to the wall with herwand. "And — oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?"
Everyone's head spun round. The curtains had been drawn back fromthe two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walkingback down the aisle between the beds: a formidable-looking old witchwearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur, and a pointed hatdecorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailingbehind her looking thoroughly depressed — Neville.
With a sudden rush of understanding, Harry realized who thepeople in the end beds must be. They cast around wildly for somemeans of distracting the others so that Neville could leave the wardunnoticed and unquestioned, but Ron had looked up at the sound ofthe name "Longbottom" too, and before Harry could stop him hadcalled, "Neville!"
Neville jumped
"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. "Have youseen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"
"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the worldbut here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and hewas not making eye contact with any of them.
"Ah, yes," said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shriveled, clawlike hand for him to shake.
"Yes, yes, I knowwho you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."
"Er — thanks," said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look athim, but stared at his own feet, the color deepening in his face all thewhile.
"And you two are clearly Weasleys," Mrs. Longbottom continued,proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. "Yes, I knowyour parents — not well, of course — but fine people, fine people . . .and you must be Hermione Granger and Percy Jackson?"
Both looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew hername, but shook hands all the same.
"Yes I know your mother." she said to Percy. "Very well indeed. Just met here. Had the flu"
"Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a fewsticky spots, haven't you? He's a good boy," she said, casting a sternlyappraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, "but he hasn'tgot his father's talent, I'm afraid to say. . . ." And she jerked her headin the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward
"What?" said Ron, looking amazed "Is that yourdad down the end, Neville?"
"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. "Haven't you toldyour friends about your parents, Neville?"
Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and shookhis head
"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give theirhealth and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them,you know!"
"I'm not ashamed," said Neville very faintly, still looking anywherebut at Harry and the others
"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Mrs. Longbottom. "My son and his wife," she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Percy, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, "were tortured into insanity by You Know-Who's followers."
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths.Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parentsand looked mortified.
"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within theWizarding community," Mrs. Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted,the pair of them. I — yes, Alice dear, what is it?"
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. Herface was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, and her hair, was white, wispy and dead-looking. She did notseem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she madetimid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretchedhand
"Again?" said Mrs. Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Verywell, Alice dear, very well — Neville, take it, whatever it is. . . ."
But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which hismother dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper.
"Very nice, dear," said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.
But Neville said quietly,"Thanks Mum."
His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself.Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as thoughdaring them to laugh. But this was not a time for laughter.
"Well, we'd better get back," sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing onlong green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put thatwrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paperyour bedroom by now. . . ."
But as they left, Percy saw Neville slip the wrapper intohis pocket.
The door closed behind them.
"I never knew," said Hermione, who looked tearful.
"Nor did I," said Ron rather hoarsely.
"Nor me," whispered Ginny.
"Me three." said Percy gravely
They all looked at Harry.
"I did," he said glumly. "Dumbledore told me but I promised Iwouldn't mention it . . . that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent toAzkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until theylost their minds."
"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" whispered Hermione, horrified."That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?"
There was a long silence broken by Percy. "War does that to people" Percy said, his face was dark and his sea green eyes looked ten years older. "And sometimes, it's better to die than live suffering your entire life."
