[Chapter Four: Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place]
"What's the Order of the -?" Harry began.
"Not here, boy!" snarled Moody. "Wait till we're inside!"
I couldn't quite understand why we had to be quiet. We were in the middle of nowhere with nothing but an occasional muggle.
Moody pulled the piece of parchment out of Harry's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. As the message curled into flames and floated to the ground, I looked around at the houses again. We were standing outside number eleven; I looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen.
"Harry, do you see a number twelve?" I whispered in his ear. He shook his head no.
"Can't say I do. That's rather peculiar, isn't it?"
"Think about what you've just memorized," said Lupin quietly, obviously having heard mine and Harry's small exchange.
I began thinking of the address, not understanding the need to. The address had been simple enough. Just as I was at the word 'Grimmauld', a battered door emerged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. I gaped at it. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't felt anything.
"Come on, hurry," growled Moody, prodding Harry and I both in the backs.
We walked up the worn stone steps, staring at the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver doorknocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox. I looked at it curiously, almost questioning its existence.
Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. There were many loud, metallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open slowly, giving me a small panic attack. You would think, as long as I've been around magic, I would be used to this sort of thing, but I just wasn't.
"Get in quick," Lupin whispered, "but don't go too far inside and don't touch anything."
I stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. It smelled damp, dusty and there was also a sweetish, rotting smell; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. Harry was beside me, and the others were filing in behind us, Lupin and Tonks were carrying Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, while Simba and my pack remained on my back. Moody was standing on the top step releasing the balls of light the Put-Outer had stolen from the streetlamps; they flew back to their bulbs and the square glowed momentarily with orange light before Moody limped inside and closed the front door, so that the darkness in the hall became complete.
Without any warning, Moody whacked Harry and me hard over the head with his wand, again hitting me harder than necessary; I felt as though something hot was trickling down my back this time and knew that the Disillusionment Charm must have lifted.
"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here," Moody whispered.
The others' hushed voices were giving me an odd feeling of foreboding; it was as though we had just entered the house of a dying person. There was a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimmered overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. I jumped at the sound of scuttling behind the skirting board. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.
There were hurried footsteps and Ron's mother, Mrs. Weasley, emerged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welcome as she hurried towards us, though she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last time I had seen her.
"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispered, pulling him into a hug.
I smiled shortly at her, figuring we didn't know each other well enough to be having a mushy reunion.
"Ash, dearest, don't be shy, come here and give me a hug!" Then I too was pulled into a rib-cracking embrace. Not that I minded. I had always loved Ron's mother, even though she, at one point, absolutely hated me from all the tabloids. She held me at arm's length and examined me thoroughly, "You're both looking a little peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid."
She turned to the gang of wizards behind him and whispered urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started."
The wizards behind Harry and I all made noises of interest and excitement and began filing past us towards the door through which Mrs. Weasley had just come. Harry tried to follow Lupin, having my elbow in his hand, but Mrs. Weasley held us back.
"Sorry guys, but the meetings only for members of the Order. Ron and Hermione are upstairs, you can wait with them until the meetings over, then we'll have dinner. And keep your voice down in the hall," she added in an urgent whisper. I will admit, when I heard two of my best friends names, my heart seemed to bound in excitement. I had no clue they would be here too.
"Why?" I asked in the same whisper, not being able to help my festering curiosity.
"I don't want anything to wake up."
"What d'you -?"
"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting - I'll just show you where you're sleeping."
Pressing her finger to her lips, she led us on tiptoe past a pair of long, moth-eaten curtains, behind which I supposed there must be another door, and after skirting a large umbrella stand that looked as though it had been made from a severed troll's leg we started up the dark staircase, passing a row of shrunken heads mounted on plaques on the wall. I was mildly intimidated by this, which made me stare at them more closely, trying to convince myself they wouldn't find a way to re-animate themselves and kill me. With closer observation, I noticed that the heads belonged to house-elves. All of them had the same rather snout-like nose.
My bewilderment deepened with every step he took. What on earth were we doing in a house that looked as though it belonged to the darkest of wizards?
"Mrs. Weasley, why -?" She cut Harry off.
"Ron and Hermione will explain everything, dear, I've really got to dash," Mrs Weasley whispered distractedly. We had reached the second landing, "- you're the door on the right. You'll be sharing a room with Ron, Acacia, you'll be rooming with Hermione, she'll show you where it is. I'll call you when it's over."
And she hurried off downstairs again.
Harry and I crossed the dingy landing; I turned the bedroom doorknob, which was shaped like a serpents head, and opened the door.
I caught a brief glimpse of a gloomy high-ceilinged, twin-bedded room; then there was a loud twittering noise, followed by an even louder shriek, and his vision was completely obscured by a large quantity of very bushy hair. Hermione had thrown herself on to him in a hug that nearly knocked him flat, while Ron's tiny owl, Pigwidgeon, zoomed excitedly round and round their heads.
"HARRY! ASH! Ron, they're here, Ash and Harry are here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how are you? Are you all right? Have you been furious with us? I bet you have, I know our letters were useless - but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh, we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us - the Dementors! When we heard - and that Ministry hearing - it's just outrageous, I've looked it all up, they can't expel you guys, they just can't, there's provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life-threatening situations -"
"Let them breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning as he closed the door behind Harry and I. He seemed to have grown several more inches during their month apart, making him taller and more gangly looking than ever. I had to admit though, he was still adorable.
I ran to give Ron a hug, squeezing him tightly. He hugged me back for a few minutes before making a choking sound, "Okay Ash, now let me breathe!"
Still beaming I let go of Ron and Hermione let go of Harry; Hermione hugged me tightly as well, but before she could say another word there was a soft whooshing sound and something white soared from the top of a dark wardrobe and landed gently on Harry's shoulder.
"Hedwig!"
The snowy owl clicked her beak and nibbled his ear affectionately as Harry stroked her feathers. Simba made a purring noise from my bag, so I set the pack down and let him tumble out clumsily, running to sniff and greet Ron.
"She's been in a right state," said Ron, picking up Simba and stroking him. "Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this -"
He showed Harry and I the index finger on his right hand, while Simba was being held in his left, which sported a half-healed but clearly deep cut. I again was imagining the look of childish hurt on Ron's face, and giggled quietly.
"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "Sorry about that, but we wanted answers, you know -"
"We wanted to give them to you," said Ron. "Hermione was going spare, she kept saying you two would do something stupid if stuck without news, but Dumbledore made us-"
"-swear not to tell us," I said. "Yeah, Hermione's already said."
There was a small pause of straining silence.
"He seemed to think it was best," said Hermione rather breathlessly. "Dumbledore, I mean."
"Right," said Harry.
"I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles -" Ron began.
I couldn't help but to take a little bit of offence to that, "Yeah?" I said, raising my eyebrows. "Have either of you been attacked by Dementors this summer? Three of them, to be exact."
"Well, no - but that's why he's had people from the Order of the Phoenix trying to tail you all the time -"
I felt a great jolt in my guts as though I had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known we were being followed, except for us.
"Didn't work that well, though, did it?" said Harry, "Ash and I had to fend for ourselves after all, didn't we?'
"He was so angry," said Hermione, in an almost awestruck voice. "Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary."
"Well, I'm glad he left," Harry said coldly. "If he hadn't, I wouldn't have run into Ash, or do magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer."
I suddenly felt a pang of guilt in my gut. I knew Harry was about to get angry; it was an odd premonition that I always seemed to get before he blows up. I felt bad for Ron and Hermione; sure, I was a bit peeved too, but surely they had their reasons.
"Aren't you... aren't you worried about the Ministry of Magic hearing?" said Hermione quietly.
"No," Harry lied defiantly.
He walked away from us, looking around, with Hedwig nestled contentedly on his shoulder, but this room was not likely to raise his spirits. It was dank and dark. A blank stretch of canvas in an ornate picture frame was all that relieved the bareness of the peeling walls.
"So why's Dumbledore been so keen to keep me in the dark?"
Harry asked, keeping his voice casual. "Did you - er - bother to ask him at all?"
"We told Dumbledore we wanted to tell you what was going on," said Ron. "We did, mate. But he's really busy now, we've only seen him twice since we came here and he didn't have much time, he just made us swear not to tell you important stuff when we wrote, he said the owls might be intercepted."
"He could still've kept me informed if he'd wanted to," Harry said shortly. "You're not telling me he doesn't know ways to send messages without owls."
Hermione glanced at Ron and then said, "I thought that, too. But he didn't want you to know anything."
"Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted," said Harry,
I was watching their expressions curiously, waiting for Harry's temper to flare as it surely would.
"Don't be thick," said Ron, looking highly disconcerted.
"Or that I can't take care of myself."
"Of course he doesn't think that!" said Hermione anxiously.
"Please stop! Stop arguing! We're all together, safe. That's all that matters." I whispered, though I went ignored.
"So how come I have to stay at the Dursleys while you two get to join in everything that's going on here?" said Harry, the words tumbling over one another in a rush, his voice growing louder with every word. "How come you two are allowed to know everything that's going on, while Ash and I sit at home, blind to what's going on?"
"We're not!" Ron interrupted. "Mum won't let us near the meetings, she says we're too young -
Just as I predicted, Harry had finally snapped and was shouting.
"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH! AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT -WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS?"
Hedwig took fright at the noise and soared off to the top of the wardrobe again; Pigwidgeon twittered in alarm and zoomed even taster around our heads.
"WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!"
Ron was standing there with his mouth half-open, clearly stunned and at a loss for anything to say, whilst Hermione looked on the verge of tears. I grabbed Hermione's hand, and stroked it, trying to prevent her tears; I knew it wouldn't help that much, but it was worth a fighting shot.
"BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S BEEN HAPPENING?"
"Harry, we wanted to tell you guys, we really did-" Hermione began.
"CANT'VE WANTED TO THAT MUCH, CAN YOU, OR YOU'D HAVE SENT US AN OWL, BUT DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR -"
"Well, he did -"
"FOUR WEEKS I'VE BEEN STUCK IN PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON -"
"We wanted to -"
"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER WHILE ASH AND I HAVE BEEN TERRIFIED OUT OF OUR WITS-"
"No, honest -"
"Harry we're really sorry!" said Hermione desperately, her eyes now sparkling with tears. "You're absolutely right, Harry - I'd be furious if it was me!"
Harry glared at her, still breathing deeply, then turned away from us again, pacing up and down. Hedwig hooted glumly from the top of the wardrobe. There was a long pause, broken only by the mournful creak of the floorboards below Harry's feet.
"What is this place, anyway?" he shot at Ron and Hermione.
"Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix," said Ron at once.
"Is anyone going to bother telling me what the Order of the Phoenix -?"
"It's a secret society," said Hermione quickly. "Dumbledore's in charge, he founded it. It's the people who fought against You-Know-Who last time."
"Who's in it?" I asked. I couldn't help the curiosity I possessed.
"Quite a few people -"
"We've met about twenty of them," said Ron, "but we think there are more."
Harry glared at them.
"Well?" he demanded, looking from one to the other.
"Er," said Ron. "Well what?"
"Voldemort!" said Harry furiously, and both Ron and Hermione winced. "What's happening? What's he up to? Where is he? What are we doing to stop him?"
I was interested in this piece of information particularly. I'd never forget Sirius' conversation with Harry and me:
"Her blood is as pure as it gets... Probably even more so than the Malfoys... Not only that, she comes from a long line of powerful wizards and witches who were all kind and good... You do the Math. Do you think Voldemort is going to want such a pure hearted and powerful witch on your side, Harry? He'd do anything to prevent it... Anything to turn her to the dark side."
"We've told you, the Order don't let us in on their meetings," said Hermione nervously. "So we don't know the details - but we've got a general idea," she added hastily, seeing the look on Harry's face.
"Fred and George have invented Extendable Ears, see," said Ron. "They're really useful."
"Extendable -?" I asked.
"Ears, yeah. Only we've had to stop using them lately because Mum found out and went berserk. Fred and George had to hide them all to stop Mum binning them. But we got a good bit of use out of them before Mum realized what was going on. We know some of the Order are following known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them, you know -"
"Some of them are working on recruiting more people to the Order -" said Hermione.
"And some of them are standing guard over something," said Ron. "They're always talking about guard duty."
"Couldn't have been us, could it?" said Harry sarcastically, gesturing between himself and I.
"Oh, yeah," said Ron, with a look of dawning comprehension.
Hermione looked at me nervously.
"What is it Mione?" I asked.
She shook her head slightly, "They've mentioned you quite a bit." She said gulping, "They keep saying things about your future, and whatnot. From what I understand, you'll be closely monitored this year."
"What? Why?" I asked breathily. She shrugged.
"Dunno. It was about that time we were caught with the ears."
Harry walked around the room again, looking anywhere but at Ron and Hermione. "So, what have you two been doing, if you're not allowed in meetings?" he demanded. "You said you'd been busy."
"We have," said Hermione quickly. "We've been decontaminating this house, it's been empty for ages and stuff's been breeding in here. We've managed to clean out the kitchen, most of the bedrooms and I think we're doing the drawing room tomo-"
With two loud cracks, Fred and George, Ron's elder twin brothers, had materialized out of thin air in the middle of the room. Pigwidgeon twittered more wildly than ever and zoomed off to join Hedwig on top of the wardrobe.
"Stop doing that!" Hermione said weakly to the twins, who were as vividly red-haired as Ron, though stockier and a bit taller.
"Hello Harry, thought we heard you yelling!" Fred teased, "Would have to be deaf not to have heard you!"
"Yeah, I'm sure the fifty mile radi-" suddenly, a dawning look of comprehension flashed across both George and Fred's faces.
"ASH!" they both yelled, running to hug me.
"FRED! GEORGE!" I yelled back, accepting their hugs. But, damn their tallness. I was on my tiptoes, hugging them just as tightly as I could manage, and they did the same. I missed them so much. It seemed like their life goal to never let a dull moment in my life pass.
"You two passed your Apparation tests, then?" asked Harry grumpily.
"With distinction," said Fred turning to face him, but left his hand on my shoulder; he was holding what looked like a piece of very long, flesh-colored string.
"It would have taken you about thirty seconds longer to walk down the stairs," said Ron.
"Time is Galleons, little brother," said Fred. "Anyway, Harry, you're interfering with reception. Extendable Ears," he added in response to Harry's raised eyebrows, and held up the string which Harry now saw was trailing out on to the landing. "We're trying to hear what's going on downstairs. I've been dying to know why Moody grumbles about Acacia so much. And why Snape keeps bringing her up."
"You want to be careful," said Ron, staring at the Ear, "if Mum sees one of them again..."
"It's worth the risk, that's a major meeting they're having," said Fred.
The door opened and a long mane of red hair appeared.
"Ash! Lovely to see you. And Oh, hello, Harry!" said Ron's younger sister, Ginny, brightly. "I thought I heard your voice."
Turning to Fred and George, she said, "It's no-go with the Extendable Ears, she's gone and put an Imperturbable Charm on the kitchen door."
"How d'you know?" said George, looking crestfallen.
"Tonks told me how to find out," said Ginny. "You just chuck stuff at the door and if it can't make contact the door's been Imperturbed. I've been flicking Dungbombs at it from the top of the stairs and they just soar away from it, so there's no way the Extendable Ears will be able to get under the gap."
"Snape?" I asked, gulping a bit, still stuck on the previous subject. Why would he have any concern where I'm involved?
"Yeah." George said, "We've really been wanting to know what he's been up to."
Harry quickly asked, "Is he here right now?"
"Yeah," said Fred, carefully closing the door, and then walking back over to me. "Giving a report. Top secret."
"Git," said George idly.
"He's on our side now," said Hermione reprovingly.
Ron snorted. "Doesn't stop him being a git. The way he looks at us when he sees us."
"Bill doesn't like him, either," said Ginny, as though that settled the matter.
"Is Bill here?" I asked. "I thought he was working in Egypt?"
"He applied for a desk job so he could come home and work for the Order," said Fred. "He says he misses the tombs, but" he smirked, "There are compensations."
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked.
"Remember old Fleur Delacour?' said George. "She's got a job at Gringotts to eempwve 'er Eeenglish -"
"And Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons," sniggered Fred.
Oh wow, Fleur Delacore and Bill Weasley? Poor Ron must be absolutely embarrassed. He had asked Fleur to the Yule Ball last year, and now she seems to have a thing with his brother.
"Charlie's in the Order, too," said George, "but he's still in Romania. Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards brought in as possible, so Charlie's trying to make contacts on his days off."
"Couldn't Percy do that?" Harry asked. The last I had heard, the third Weasley brother was working in the Department of International Magical Co-operation at the Ministry of Magic.
At Harry's words, all the Weasleys and Hermione exchanged darkly significant looks.
"Whatever you do, don't mention Percy in front of Mum and Dad," Ron said to Harry and I in a tense voice.
"Why not?"
"Because every time Percy's name's mentioned, Dad breaks whatever he's holding and Mum starts crying," Fred said.
"It's been awful," said Ginny sadly.
"I think we're well shot of him," said George, with an uncharacteristically ugly look on his face.
"What's happened?" I asked quietly; I rested my hand on Fred's shoulder reassuringly. He looked somewhat hurt, and also wore
"Percy and Dad had a row," said Fred. "I've never seen Dad argue with anyone like that. It's normally Mum who shouts."
"It was the first week back after term ended," said Ron. "We were about to come and join the Order. Percy came home and told us he'd been promoted."
"You're kidding?" said Harry.
Percy was highly ambitious, my impression was that Percy had not made a great success of his first job at the Ministry of Magic. Percy had committed the fairly large oversight of failing to notice that his boss was being controlled by Lord Voldemort (not that the Ministry had believed it - they all thought Mr. Crouch had gone mad).
"Yeah, we were all surprised." said George, "because Percy got into a load of trouble about Crouch, there was an inquiry and everything. They said Percy ought to have realized Crouch was off his rocker and informed a superior. But you know Percy, Crouch left him in charge, he wasn't going to complain."
"So how come they promoted him?"
"That's exactly what we wondered," said Ron, who seemed very keen to keep normal conversation going now that Harry had stopped yelling. "He came home really pleased with himself - even more pleased than usual, if you can imagine that - and told Dad he'd been offered a position in Fudge's own office. A really good one for someone only a year out of Hogwarts: Junior Assistant to the Minister. He expected Dad to be all impressed, I think."
"Only Dad wasn't," said Fred grimly.
"Why not?"
"Well, apparently Fudge has been storming round the Ministry checking that nobody's having any contact with Dumbledore," said George.
"Dumbledore's name is mud with the Ministry these days, see," said Fred. "They all think he's just making trouble saying You-Know-Who's back."
"Dad says Fudge has made it clear that anyone who's in league with Dumbledore can clear out their desks," said George.
"Trouble is, Fudge suspects Dad, he knows he's friendly with Dumbledore, and he's always thought Dad's a bit of a weirdo because of his Muggle obsession."
"But what's that got to do with Percy?" asked Harry.
"I'm coming to that. Dad reckons Fudge only wants Percy in his office because he wants to use him to spy on the family - and Dumbledore."
I let out a low whistle.
"Bet Percy loved that." I muttered, looking at the wall.
Ron laughed in a hollow sort of way.
"He went completely berserk. He said - well, he said loads of terrible stuff. He said he's been having to struggle against Dad's lousy reputation ever since he joined the Ministry and that Dad's got no ambition and that's why we've always been - you know - not had a lot of money, I mean -"
"What?" said Harry in disbelief, as Ginny made a noise like an angry cat.
"I know," said Ron in a low voice. "And it got worse. He said Dad was an idiot to run around with Dumbledore, that Dumbledore was heading for big trouble and Dad was going to go down with him, and that he - Percy - knew where his loyalty lay and it was with the Ministry. And if Mum and Dad were going to become traitors to the Ministry he was going to make sure everyone knew he didn't belong to our family any more. And he packed his bags the same night and left. He's living here in London now."
"Mum's been in a right state," said Ron dully. "You know - crying and stuff. She came up to London to try and talk to Percy but he slammed the door in her face. I dunno what he does if he meets Dad at work - ignores him, I's'pose."
"But Percy must know Voldemort's back," I said, whispering. "He's not stupid, he must know your mum and dad wouldn't risk everything without proof."
"Yeah, well, your name got dragged into the row," said Ron, shooting Harry a furtive look. "Percy said the only evidence was your word and... I dunno... he didn't think it was good enough."
"Percy takes the Daily Prophet seriously," said Hermione tartly, and the others all nodded.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, looking around at them all. They were all regarding Harry and me warily.
"Haven't - haven't you been getting the Daily Prophet?" Hermione asked nervously.
"Yeah, I have!" said Harry.
"Have you - er - been reading it thoroughly?" Hermione asked, still more anxiously.
"Not cover to cover," said Harry defensively. "If they were going to report anything about Voldemort it would be headline news, wouldn't it?"
Everyone in the room flinched at the sound of the name, including me. Hermione hurried on, "Well, you'd need to read it cover to cover to pick it up, but they - um - they mention you a couple of times a week."
"But I'd have seen -"
"Not if you've only been reading the front page, you wouldn't," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I'm not talking about big articles. They just slip you in, like you're a standing joke. They do it to Acacia sometimes too."
"It's quite nasty, actually," said Hermione in a voice of forced calm. "They're just building on Rita's stuff."
"But she's not writing for them any more, is she?" I asked.
"Oh, no, she's kept her promise - not that she's got any choice," Hermione added with satisfaction. "But she laid the foundation for what they're trying to do now."
"Which is what?" said Harry impatiently.
"OK, you know she wrote that you were collapsing all over the place and saying your scar was hurting and all that?"
"Yeah," said Harry.
"Well, they're writing about you as though you're this deluded, attention-seeking person who thinks he's a great tragic hero or something," said Hermione, very fast, as though it would be less unpleasant for Harry to hear these facts quickly. "They keep slipping in snide comments about you. If some far-fetched story appears, they say something like, 'A tale worthy of Harry Potter', and if anyone has a funny accident or anything it's, 'Let's hope he hasn't got a scar on his forehead or we'll be asked to worship him next' -"
"I don't want anyone to worship -" Harry began hotly.
"I know you don't," said Hermione quickly, looking frightened. "I know, Harry. But you see what they're doing? They want to turn you into someone nobody will believe. Fudge is behind it, I'll bet anything. They want wizards on the street to think you're just some stupid boy who's a bit of a joke, who tells ridiculous tall stories because he loves being famous and wants to keep it going."
"I didn't ask - I didn't want - Voldemort killed my parents!" Harry spluttered. "I got famous because he murdered my family but couldn't kill me! Who wants to be famous for that? Don't they think I'd rather it'd never -"
"We know, Harry," said Ginny earnestly.
"Now what about me?" I asked curiously.
"Anytime there's an affair, or someone's temper causes them to do something stupid, they slip your name in." Hermione sighed, "People are still hung up on the Rita Skeeter papers about you and Harry being together, while you were dating Cedric. A lot of people misconstrued seeing you around the twins so much while all of those rumors going around."
I felt a pang in my chest. Why couldn't they let the past go? Why did Harry and I have to be the targets of such harsh things?
"Everyone knew how in love with Cedric Diggory I was." I whispered, with a quiet tremor in my voice, "Those who didn't were blind. I had eyes for him only, and anyone who says otherwise is a huge waste of useless information."
Fred snaked me closer for a hug, and didn't say a word as I fought back the tears. Sometimes, I think, I'd just rather not know what these people think about me. Somehow, I also wished I'd have never met Cedric. I truly believe ignorance is bliss. Before I met him, I never knew what it was like to live without him. Now there's this huge void in my life. A giant gap in my chest, that'll never fully be healed.
"And of course, they didn't report a word about the Dementors attacking you and Ash," said Hermione. "Someone's told them to keep that quiet. That should've been a really big story, out-of-control Dementors. They haven't even reported that the pair of you broke the International Statute of Secrecy. We thought they would, it would tie in so well with this image of Harry as some stupid show-off, and Ash as a temperamental trouble-maker. We think they're biding their time until you're expelled, then they're really going to go to town - I mean, if you're expelled, obviously," she went on hastily. "You really shouldn't be, not if they abide by their own laws, there's no case against you two, being quite honest."
We were back on the subject of the hearing and I did not want to think about that. I cast around for another change of subject, but was saved the necessity of finding one by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.
"Uh oh."
Fred gave the Extendable Ear a hearty tug, and pulled away from me; there was another loud crack and he and George vanished. Seconds later, Mrs. Weasley appeared in the bedroom doorway.
"The meeting's over, you can come down and have dinner now. Everyone's dying to see you, Harry. And who's left all those Dungbombs outside the kitchen door?"
"Crookshanks," said Ginny unblushingly. "He loves playing with them."
"Oh," said Mrs. Weasley, "I thought it might have been Kreacher, he keeps doing odd things like that. Now don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall. Ginny, your hands are filthy, what have you been doing? Go and wash them before dinner, please."
Ginny grimaced at us and followed her mother out of the room. Hermione and Ron were watching Harry apprehensively, as though they feared he would start shouting again now that everyone else had gone. The sight of them looking so nervous made me feel so sorry for them.
"Look..." Harry muttered, but Ron shook his head, and Hermione said quietly, "We knew you'd be angry, Harry, we really don't blame you, but you've got to understand, we did try to persuade Dumbledore -"
"Yeah, I know," said Harry shortly.
The very thought of Dumbledore made my insides burn with anger again. I always considered my relationship with him to be rather close
"Who's Kreacher?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
"The house-elf who lives here," said Ron. "Nutter. Never met one like him."
Hermione frowned at Ron.
"He's not a nutter, Ron."
"His life's ambition is to have his head cut off and stuck up on a plaque just like his mother," said Ron irritably. "Is that normal, Hermione?"
"Well - well, if he is a bit strange, it's not his fault."
"Yeah!" I said, siding with Hermione, "Most house-elves consider Dobby strange because he was happy to be free. But I love the little fella."
Ron rolled his eyes at me.
"Not you too! Hermione still hasn't given up on SPEW -"
"It's not SPEW!" said Hermione heatedly. "It's the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. And it's not just me; Dumbledore says we should be kind to Kreacher too."
"Yeah, yeah," said Ron. "C'mon, I'm starving."
He led the way out of the door and on to the landing, but before they could descend the stairs -
"Hold it!" Ron breathed, flinging out an arm to stop us from walking any further. "They're still in the hall, we might be able to hear something."
The lot of us looked cautiously over the banisters. The gloomy hallway below was packed with witches and wizards, including all of the guard. They were whispering excitedly together. In the very centre of the group I saw the dark, greasy-haired head and prominent nose of my least favorite teacher at Hogwarts, Professor Snape. I leant further over the banisters. I was very interested in what Snape was doing for the Order of the Phoenix...
A thin piece of flesh-colored string descended in front of my face. Looking up, I saw Fred and George on the landing above, cautiously lowering the Extendable Ear towards the dark knot of people below. They smiled down at me mischievously, and I couldn't help but to smile back. A moment later, however, the guard all began to move towards the front door and out of sight.
"Dammit," I heard Fred whisper, as he hoisted the Extendable Ear back up again.
We heard the front door open, then close.
"Snape never eats here," Ron told Harry and I quietly. "Thank God. C'mon."
"And don't forget to keep your voice down in the hall," Hermione whispered.
As we passed the row of house-elf heads on the wall, we spotted Lupin, Mrs. Weasley, and Tonks at the front door, magically sealing its many locks and bolts behind those who had just left.
"We're eating down in the kitchen," Mrs. Weasley whispered, meeting us at the bottom of the stairs. "Darlings, if you'll just tiptoe across the hall, it's through this door here -"
CRASH.
"Tonks!" cried Mrs. Weasley in exasperation, turning to look behind her.
"I'm sorry!" wailed Tonks, who was lying flat on the floor. "It's that stupid umbrella stand, that's the second time I've tripped over -"
But the rest of her words were drowned by a horrible, ear-splitting, blood-curdling screech.
The moth-eaten velvet curtains we had passed earlier had flown apart, but there was no door behind them. For a split second, I thought he was looking through a window, a window behind which an old woman in a black cap was screaming and screaming as though she were being tortured - then I realized it was simply a life-size portrait, but the most realistic, and the most unpleasant, I had ever seen in my life.
The old woman was drooling, her eyes were rolling, the yellowing skin of her face stretched taut as she screamed; and all along the hall behind them, the other portraits awoke and began to yell, too, so that I clapped my hand over my ears to muffle the horrid sound.
Lupin and Mrs. Weasley darted forward and tried to tug the curtains shut over the old woman, but they would not close and she screeched louder than ever, brandishing clawed hands as though trying to tear at their faces.
"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers, how dare you stand in the presence of such a royal blood as Acacia!-"
My mouth dropped as my name left her mouth. How in the ruddy hell does she know me? I certainly have no recollection of meeting her. Tonks apologized over and over again, dragging the huge, heavy troll's leg back off the floor; Mrs. Weasley abandoned the attempt to close the curtains and hurried up and down the hall, stunning all the other portraits with her wand; and a man with long black hair came charging out of a door facing Harry and I.
"Shut up, you horrible old hag, shut UP!" he roared, seizing the curtain Mrs. Weasley had abandoned.
The old woman's face blanched.
"Yoooou!" she howled, her eyes popping at the sight of the man. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame of my flesh! How dare you support the mating of Muggles!"
"I said - shut - UP!" roared the man, and with a stupendous effort he and Lupin managed to force the curtains closed again.
The old woman's screeches died and an echoing silence fell. Panting slightly and sweeping his long dark hair out of his eyes, Sirius turned to face us.
"Hello, Harry. Ash." he said grimly, "I see you've met my mother."
Uh, Mother?