Chapter 9-Changes
Harry felt the colour drain from his cheeks, and he hastily passed the note to Ron. They both grabbed their bags and were ready to Apparate when Hermione grabbed their arms to stop them.
“Hermione!” they said in unison.
“We have to get to Grimmauld place, not The Burrow, where I know too well you were planning to go.”
“Hermione, The Burrow is my home! I have to go and help!” said Ron, outraged.
“And what if you Apparate right in the middle of some crossfire?” She exclaimed, poking Ron in the chest with her index finger. “What happens if you Apparate right into some Death Eaters? Or, if the Order has them and you set the wards off again? I’ll tell you what will happen; you will get hurt!” She took a deep breath and continued in a much calmer tone. “We will go to Headquarters, just like Ginny said, and we will find out what happened there. It might have even been a false alarm.” Hermione didn’t seem too confident in that last statement.
“But “”
“No buts, Ron. We are going to Headquarters.” The tone of her voice was almost a growl, and it was, in Harry’s opinion, scary. Ron and Harry looked at each other, and then back at Hermione. She was hastily picking up her bag, and with a quailing glance, snarled, “Don’t even think about it. I will side-along you to headquarters if I have to.”
Harry could tell that the last thing Ron, and he for that matter, wanted to do was go to number twelve, Grimmauld Place to just wait for news. But Harry also knew Hermione had a good point.
“Come on, Ron. There’s no time to argue,” he said, and Apparated to his inherited house.
Harry barely registered the dirty and run-down street he had landed in before he ran down it as fast as he could, Hermione and Ron hot on his heals. He was ready to slam straight through the door, but at the last second he remembered the ghastly portrait of Mrs. Black, who screamed ear-splitting abuse every time she was disturbed.
Coming to a screeching halt, Harry tapped the peeling paint with his wand and heard several locks click from inside. Cautiously, he pushed opened the heavy, black door.
It was dark and dank in the House of Black. Not a single sound could be heard in the hallway. Harry, Ron, and Hermione quickly and silently made their way down the stairs towards the kitchen. There was a beam of light coming from under the heavy door, and because of its flickering quality, Harry presumed it was from the fireplace.
They opened the door and saw a single Weasley. She was sitting at the table, curled up like a cat. Her brown eyes shone brightly in the firelight that lit the kitchen. They snapped up as the three friends rushed into the room. Harry rushed towards her and knelt in front of her. Taking her hand, he asked, “What happened?”
She hugged Harry tightly. “The wards were being breached,” she said, in a surprisingly steady voice. “Mum sent me here and forbade me to leave until someone gave me permission. She blocked the Floo, the hag. I haven’t heard anything for over an hour!”
“Did they “I mean, you don’t think…” Hermione let her voice trail off. She sat heavily in a seat next to Ron, who had his head in his hands.
Harry stared into the fireplace. This war was getting serious. In less than a month, he had been involved or nearly involved in three attacks by Death Eaters.
The minutes passed. No one said a word.
The clock in the corner ticked away; no one moved when it chimed three times to signal the hour. Ginny was holding Harry’s hand as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. Hermione was drumming her fingernails on the worn wood of the table, and Ron had taken to pacing. Harry was staring at the door, willing it to open and everyone to come spilling through it, announcing it was just a false alarm.
The waiting reminded Harry very much of Christmas two years ago, when Mr. Weasley had been bitten by a snake while on duty for The Order.
More minutes passed, and Harry was getting as restless as Ron. Just as he was getting tempted to do something drastic, the kitchen door slammed open, jolting the four teens out of their reveries. Molly, Asher, and Remus rushed through the door. Other than minor cuts and bruises, they seemed to be fine. Asher and Remus collapsed into chairs while Molly grabbed her children and squeezed them to the point of near suffocation.
Harry and Hermione, who were not in Molly’s arms, immediately bombarded Asher and Remus with questions.
“What happened?”
“Is everyone alright?”
“Is The Burrow safe?”
“Where is everyone else?”
“Slow down, people! Everyone is fine! The rest of the Weasleys are at The Burrow, strengthening the wards,” said Asher, holding her hands out in front of her.
“And Tonks has gone to the ministry to report the Death Eater activity,” added Remus.
“Mum,” said Ginny once her mum had let go of her, only to swoop down on Harry and Hermione instead. “How much damage is there?”
Molly wiped a tear from her eye, and with a relieved smile said, “Not much, dear, only some spell damage on the outer walls.”
“So, are we going back then?”
Mrs. Weasley shared an uneasy look with Asher and Remus before answering, “I’ll have to speak to your father about that; we are staying the night here though. It’s not safe enough at home.”
Over the next few hours, more people like Charlie, Fred, George, and Tonks, who had helped in protecting The Burrow, arrived at Twelve, Grimmauld Place. No more Death Eaters had attempted to attack the Weasley’s home; they had all Disapparated when they knew they weren’t going to win.
“Right, kids-” Ron rolled his eyes. “-Go amuse yourselves for awhile, the meeting’s about to start,” ordered Mrs. Weasley, ushering them out the room and up the stairs towards the entrance hall. “And no trying to listen at the door,” she added sternly.
Ginny huffed and lead Harry up the stairs by the hand and into the room she and Hermione had shared the summer before Harry’s fifth year, with Ron and Hermione following.
Harry and Ginny sat on one bed, and Ron and Hermione sat opposite them on the other. They just stared at each other.
Ron broke the silence. “That was a close call.”
“Understatement of the century,” muttered Ginny as she closed her eyes and fell backwards so she was lying on her back.
“So, what’s been happening at The Burrow while we were gone? Apart from Death Eater attacks, that is,” Harry added as an afterthought, with a short laugh.
“Well, Asher is still living with us. She’s so great, constantly laughing and making jokes. She always has the wireless or her music box on, permanently singing. She’s a bit like Tonks, really, but different as well…” Ginny trailed off and laughed. “I have…had a game of Quidditch with Charlie…helped mum with washing…de-gnomed the garden…worried about you three.” She opened her eyes and shot a pointed look at each of them. “What have you been up to?”
The trio shared a look, but before they could say anything, she continued. “I know, I know, you can’t tell me anything. Why, though? Can’t you trust me?” She sat up and set her gaze on Harry.
“Of course I trust you, but I can’t let too many people know. It will-“
“Put me in more danger,” Ginny mimicked.
“Yes,” said Harry. She stood and walked over to the window overlooking the street below, arms crossed over her chest. Harry shared a glance with his two friends, then walked over and stood behind her. He snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek softly. “I’m sorry.”
She tried to pull away from him, but he kept his arms around her. “Do you mind, Potter,” she said harshly, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. “I’m trying to be annoyed with you.”
Harry chuckled, but she kept a determinedly straight face. He kissed her cheek again. “Really, really sorry.” Her lip twitched. “Promise.” Harry heard a giggle try to contain itself in her throat, but the attempt was useless; she laughed. He grinned and she slowly spun round to face him.
“I missed you,” she said. “It was horrible not knowing what you were doing or where you were. Everyone tried to keep me busy, especially Asher, but I knew they were all worried too…” she trailed off and leant forward to give Harry a proper welcome.
“Please, don’t do that while I’m in the room, I’m “ Ouch!” Harry and Ginny turned to find Ron rubbing his side, casting Hermione a disgruntled glance as she smirked.
An hour later, there was a knock on the door and Asher peered around it. “You can come down now. The meeting’s over,” she said.
The teens stood up from where they had been sitting, chatting like teenagers do, and hurried to the door, all not-so-secretly hoping to catch snippets of conversation from the meeting. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny leaned over the banister to find Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin talking directly below them, in hushed voices just loud enough to be heard.
“-be ridiculous, Alastor; he wasn’t the reason The Burrow was attacked,” said Lupin. “The Weasley’s knew the risks when they joined the Order.”
“Don’t be a fool, Remus. You saw them; they were looking for him, and when they saw he wasn’t there they started retreating,” the former Auror argued gruffly. “The only-” Moody suddenly stopped talking, turned, and looked up at the four shocked faces, none more shocked than Harry himself. Raising a gnarled hand in farewell, Mad-Eye limped out the front door.
Harry stared after him, as shockwaves of realisation swept over him. The ‘he’ Moody was talking about was him. How could he not have realised? The Death Eaters only attacked The Burrow because they thought he was there. He’d done it again; put the ones he cared about in danger…
“Harry!” He snapped out of his trance when he was spun round so his face was inches from Ginny’s. She had a furious fire in her brown eyes. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. Even if those Death Eaters were sent out for you, guess what? We. Don’t. Care. The Burrow isn’t too seriously damaged and neither was anyone who fought. Now, forget about what that stupid old codger said and get into the kitchen; I’m hungry.”
Harry gaped at Ginny, gob smacked at how she could read him like that. He heard a chuckle and a snort from below and looked down. Remus had a smile playing at his lips, and Asher had a hand over her mouth, apparently to stop her giggles.
Harry and Ginny shared a glace. “What?” they asked at the same time, making the two adults laugh even more.
“You just remind me so much of Lily and James. It’s unreal,” said Asher, shaking her head and walking back down the steps into the kitchen, her heels tapping on the stone floor.
As they made their way into the kitchen, no matter what Ginny had said, Harry still had that hot, bubbling sensation of guilt forming in his stomach. Apparently it must have shown on his face, because Ginny entwined her fingers with his and squeezed gently.
There was not as much idle chatter at dinner as there usually was at a Weasley meal, but that was to be expected. After all, their home had been nearly destroyed earlier that day.
Later, when Harry happened to look down at the other side of the table, he noticed that Charlie was still there; the last thing he knew Charlie was going back to the dragon reserve in Romania. When Harry asked Ginny about this, she explained that Charlie had been offered a job at another dragon reserve in Wales. He had taken the offer straight away.
“He said he took the job for mum’s sake mostly,” she said in hushed tones. “She was so worried about him going so far from home in times like these.”
“So where is Charlie living now?” asked Hermione, inviting herself into the conversation.
“Home, up until he can find somewhere to rent. Apparently not many people are willing to offer their property, for any number of Galleons. They’re suspicious; anyone could be a Death Eater in disguise. People are scared. So for now, both Asher and Charlie are still staying with us.”
When everyone had finished eating, Mr. Weasley cleared his throat and looked over at his two youngest children, Harry, and Hermione
“Molly and I have come to the decision that, with Harry’s permission, we will stay here at headquarters for at least the remainder of the holidays. Now that You-Know-Who knows where our family is situated, it is too dangerous to return to The Burrow.”
Ginny was the first to react to this revelation. “We have to stay here?” she said, glancing around the dark room.
Arthur looked at Harry. “With Harry’s permission, yes.”
It took Harry a second to realise why the Weasleys would need his permission; he owned this house. “Oh right, yeah, of course you can stay. If you really want to…”
Ginny looked from Harry to her parents with a slack jaw, a look that said she seemed set to argue. And argue she did. “But mum! We’ve got so much protection on The Burrow! And it’s even safer now; Charlie and Bill renewed all the wards, didn’t they?”
Molly stood; walking behind her daughter, she placed her hands on Ginny’s shoulders, and said with a sigh, “The Burrow is simply not secure enough. Even with the new wards,” she added, when Ron opened his mouth to say something. “The Death Eaters have found its location; we have to leave.” Molly seemed to be using all her willpower to keep her voice steady, but her voice wavered a little nevertheless.
Ginny gave no more arguments after that, but Harry had a suspicion that it was for her mother’s sake rather than agreement with the decision.
“Why’d you let that go so easily? You usually keep arguing for hours,” he asked Ginny when conversation started again.
She gave him a scathing look. “Mum’s been a mess this last week. The war’s gone up a gear, again. Didn’t you hear about all those Dementor attacks around Newcastle and Manchester? But anyway, absolutely anything will set her off. She sent me and Charlie to our rooms because I refused to help him with something. She was in such a state Charlie actually did go to his room.” A small chuckle escaped both their throats at the idea of Charlie, who was well over age, still being sent to his room.
“Come on, get to bed kids, it’s been a long day,” said Molly from the sink, where she was charming the dinner plates to clean themselves. With many moans and groans, the four friends bid goodnight to everyone and walked up the stairs, being careful not to wake Mrs. Black.
Harry didn’t say anything as they climbed the stairs. After all the shock of today’s events had worn off, he finally realised he was in twelve Grimmauld Place. The place where Sirius had been kept virtually a prisoner for months on end, which got him so frustrated, he burst out of its door to save Harry and ended up being murdered by his own cousin…
Unbeknownst to him, Harry’s pace slowed as he remembered Sirius. He shivered as he remembered how his godfather had been so depressed here; he thought he had rid himself of this place forever when he walked out at sixteen, only to return years later.
“Come on, Harry,” said Ginny, successfully pulling him out of his reverie as they reached the landing outside her bedroom. Ron and Hermione had carried on up another flight of stairs to say “goodnight” in private.
“I’m sorry,” said Harry. Ginny looked at him as if he had grown three extra heads.
“What for?” she asked.
“For everything; for your home being attacked, for causing you to have to stay here-”
“Oh, don’t start, Harry. I already told you, it wasn’t your fault! So stop with your sob story and say goodnight.” She finished with a grin and a twinkle in her eye. Harry had to laugh lightly at the suggestive glimmer.
Harry took a step closer to her so their faces were inches apart and stared into those deep, brown pools that were her eyes. It wasn’t the first time Harry noticed that her eyes were not just plain brown, but had darker flecks in them. He also had noticed that when she was angry or determined her eyes almost had a fire burning in their depths.
Ginny leaned slightly closer; they were so close he could feel her warm breath against his lips. “Well, when you’re done staring…” she whispered.
Harry closed the remaining space between them and showed her just how much he had missed her. He thought he heard someone clear their throat behind him, but ignored it. The throat clearing came louder this time, and Harry’s brain finally caught up with him. Ripping his mouth from Ginny’s, they turned to see Asher, her eyebrows waggling suggestively.
“Having fun?” she asked innocently.
Harry felt himself start to blush, but when he chanced a glance at Ginny, he was surprised to see a satisfied smile on her face.
“Yep, certainly am,” she said.
Asher laughed and shook her head. “It was a good job I found you, not one of your brothers. I’m pretty sure they didn’t know you could do that with your tongue, Harry, especially to their baby sister.” Somehow, Asher managed to keep a straight face.
Harry closed his eyes and groaned in embarrassment. “Okay, I think that’s my cue to go to bed. Night Ginny, Asher.” He gave Ginny a peck on the cheek and passed Hermione, who was coming back down the stairs as he went up, her cheeks pink.
*
“Wakey, wakey boys!”
Harry grunted at the cheerful voice and buried further into his duvet. Even the beds in Grimmauld were comfier than the ones in the tent, so Harry was savouring every moment.
Quite suddenly, the forest green cover over Harry was ripped off, and judging by the yelp of surprise, so was Ron’s. After the scraping sound of opening curtains reached his ears, the room was full of blinding sunlight. He fumbled for his glasses for a moment, before shoving them on his nose and squinting up at the person standing in the middle of the room.
Asher smirked at them. “Time to wake up, my friends; Molly’s got bacon!”
With another grunt, Harry dragged himself out of bed, but Ron just rolled over and promptly fell back to sleep.
The dark-haired woman sighed. “I hoped I wouldn’t have to resort to this…” she pulled out her wand, and with a long vertical swishing motion, the room suddenly filled with the deafening, screeching sound of a violin being played by someone very inexperienced. Ron fell out of bed with a loud thump.
“I’m up, I’m up!” he shouted, when Asher lowered her wand and Harry felt it safe to remove his hands from over his ears.
Asher left the room so the boys could get changed, with a dire warning that if they went back to sleep she would cause them serious pain and bodily damage. She topped the threat off with a cheery smile and a wave before shutting the door behind her.
It had been a day since Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place. Yesterday the Weasleys, Harry, Asher, and Hermione had collected all they would need from The Burrow and brought it there. Asher had been ecstatic about getting her music box back; she had evidently missed music, even for one night.
After dressing, the two boys made their way down the stairs. They passed Molly, who was muttering about her daughter, who had yet to show any signs of life, even after Asher’s wake up call.
Harry and Ron shared a glance when they heard music dimly coming from the kitchen. When they got there, a strange sight met their eyes. Remus and Hermione were sitting at the large, wooden table, laughing at two women, one with bright pink hair, in black work robes, and one with raven hair, dancing and singing along to the open music box.
Move your body like a hairy troll
Learning to rock and roll
Spin around like a crazy 'elf
A' Dancin' by himself
Harry stifled a laugh. Tonks and Asher were both very good dancers, but Harry would never have guessed he would find them dancing and singing in the middle of this kitchen at this time of the day.
I boogie down like a unicorn
No stoppin' till the break of dawn
Put your hands up in the air
Like a dog, or just don't care
The boys sat down at the table, laughing. Suddenly, Tonks stopped dead and stared at her watch.
“Oh bugger! I’m late!” She rushed over to the table, knocking over a chair, and grabbed her shoes. Hopping as she pulled them on, she gave Remus a peck on his cheek and rushed from the room, leaving Asher alone, mid-dance, in the middle of the room.
“It seems I have lost my dance partner,” Asher stated. “Anyone want bacon?”
*
Harry walked into the library, hearing the sound of music. Over the to of the sofa, he saw a head of bushy, brown hair and a pair of feet with electric blue toenails bopping along to the Weird Sisters.
Hearing him walk in the room, Hermione ripped herself from her book.
“Hi, Harry. Where’s Ron?”
“In the kitchen,” Harry said with a grin.
She rolled her eyes and went back to her book. He sat down on a comfortable chair and watched the clouds through the grimy window. Suddenly, Ginny, who had been lying on her back on the sofa, came out of her daydream, gasped, and did a backwards roll of sorts, landing on her knees.
“I can’t believe I forgot…” was all Harry heard before she disappeared. Harry and Hermione shared a look. What was that all about?
“What are you reading?” he asked.
She ginned and held her book up so he could see the cover. “Treasure Island.”
He chuckled just as Ginny re-entered the room, three envelopes in her hand and Ron in tow.
“Sorry, I totally forgot about these. I meant to give them to you after I picked them up from The Burrow,” she said with an apologetic grimace as she handed the envelopes to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
He just stared at it. His name was written in neat, green ink. There was a lump in the envelope. It was his Hogwarts letter.
Harry had made the decision at the end of last year not to go back to school. This war needed to end as quickly as possible. But the more he thought about it, the more he realised how that decision may have been unwise. What chance did he have against Voldemort, really? Voldemort was now probably the most powerful man (if you could call him a man) in the world. What chance did a seventeen-year-old who hadn’t even finished his NEWTs have? But then, the voice in his head that usually got him into trouble piped up, saying that at Hogwarts he would have no freedom to go where he wanted; to go find the Horcruxes and eventually, Tom Riddle himself.
Still undecided, Harry broke the wax seal with the Hogwarts crest and pulled out his letter.
The first sheet was the usual, saying he would be going into his seventh and final year, and that he would be sitting his NEWT exams at the end of the year. The thing that differed the most from the previous letters he had received was that instead of being signed by Professor McGonagall, it was signed by Professor F. Flitwick, the new deputy Headmaster.
The second sheet was his book list. He would need:
Charms: What you need to know by Amanda Brookwood
The 100 most dangerous plants of the wizarding world by Prudence King
Standard Book of spells Grade 7 by Miranda Goshawk
Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Part 2 by Emeric Switch
Advanced Potion-Making by Libatius Borage
Harry turned his envelope upside down, and a small gold and crimson badge fell out, a resolute “C” on the front. He was captain, again. Looking up at his friends, they were both staring down at their palms with wide eyes.
“What is it?” he asked. He looked over at Ginny, who was staring at her brother as if she had never seen him before. Then a wide and slightly malicious grin slowly spread on her face.
“Oh, Fred and George are going to have a field day!” she laughed.
Ron gave her a dirty look, before turning to Harry and holding up a badge very like Harry’s except it held the letters “HB.”
Wait, HB? Head boy? A grin started materialising on Harry’s face, before slipping away again. He saw Hermione look up and watch him carefully.
Harry stood and walked over to the window. Looking down onto the street below, Harry watched a scrawny cat prowl across the road and start scratching the door of number ten with its claws.
He was sure Hermione was now holding a badge with a letters “HG.” He knew how hard it would be for her to let it go, but on the other hand, he knew she would, because she wanted to help him. But, in all honesty, he didn’t want her or Ron to give up their badges. They had worked hard for them, and deserved them.
The cat he had been watching seemed to give up on getting into that house and prowled away to the other end of the street and out of Harry’s view. Running his hand through his hair, knowing he had just made it stick up even more than usual, he made his decision and turned around.
The first thing he noticed was Ginny giving him a weird look; Ron was still staring at his badge in disbelief. Hermione had a resolute look in her eyes, though they were shining slightly brighter than usual.
“We should go back to school,” he said, and smiled when Ron’s head snapped up and both Hermione’s and Ginny’s eyes widened for completely different reasons.
Hermione seemed to be trying to find words, but she settled for springing up and crushing him in a hug instead.
“What do you mean ‘we should go back to school’?” Ginny said with fire in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you go back to school? You’re not qualified yet!”
Harry sighed and looked over at Ginny. “It doesn’t matter; the point is we are going back.” Ginny didn’t seem too happy about being kept in the dark, but seemed to realise that she would not be told anyway.
They all started at the sound of the doorbell, followed by the screeching and cursing of Mrs Black.
“BLOOD TRAITERS, FILTH, MUDBLOODS, BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE! THE NOBLE HOUSE OF BLACK…”
The teens jumped up and ran down the stairs to find Kingsley Shackleboltand Molly attempting to get the curtains around the portrait closed.
“HOW DARE YOU COME TO THIS HOME OF MY HUSBAND!? GET YOUR DIRT-VEINED BODIES OUT OF MY HOUSE!”
Ron and Harry darted forward to help with the curtains, and with a wrench, they closed and the screaming voice echoed to silence.
“I am so sorry, Molly, I always forget about not ringing the doorbell,” apologised in his deep, soothing voice.
Molly, who was flushed and breathing heavily, smiled. “Don’t fret, Kingsley.” With a sharp look at Hermione, Harry, and her two children, she added, “Dinner’s nearly ready, please go set the table.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and skipped into the kitchen, while saying over her shoulder, “If you want us to just go away so you can discuss the Order, you can just say so.”
After setting the table, they sat down and waited for the rest of the household to come down for dinner.
“What’s that in your hand, Harry?” asked Ginny.
He looked down and opened his palm. He had momentarily forgotten about his own badge. He grinned. “Quidditch captain badge.”
“Harry, that’s great!” She leaned over and hugged him.
But Harry was still looking at the badge as it shined in the firelight. Would he have time to be captain again? He had sworn to himself he would finish this quickly; Quidditch would just come as another distraction.
“You might have a lot of,” Hermione paused and glanced at Ginny, who scowled, “things to do, but you still need to live. You love Quidditch, give yourself a break.”
Harry closed his fist and smiled. “Okay.”
*
The next day, Harry was walking down the first floor landing, and as he passed Asher’s room, he looked in the open doorway. Covering most of the floorboards was sheet upon sheet of parchment and paper, and the owner of the room herself was amongst it all, sitting crossed-legged and looking lost and forlorn.
She set pleading eyes upon Harry as she spotted him. “Help me?”
Harry raised his eyebrows and stepped in the doorway. “What are you doing?” he asked with a laugh.
“Cleaning,” she replied, picking up a sheet of parchment and looking back up at him. Harry’s eyebrows rose further. “All this stuff is from my bag; it used to be shrunk enough to fit in a side pocket, and I thought it was about time to sort it out.”
Harry crouched down and picked up a sheet of pale blue paper. It was a letter dated thirteen years ago. “How long have you had this stuff in there?” he asked, showing her the letter.
She took it from him and laughed. “That’s not the worst of it. I have things from Hogwarts in here.” She glanced around again. “Hence there is so much.”
He sat down next to her and asked what she wanted him to do.
“Thank you! Well, I have all sorts in here; letters, songs, music, phone numbers, et cetera, et cetera. So I just need them in separate piles.”
“You write your own songs?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Yeah, I’ve been doing them since found my first guitar in the attic when I was about eight or nine. I taught myself how to play, and then I started writing my own songs.”
As they worked, Asher and Harry chatted about this and that. He had never realised how easy she was to talk to. Granted, when he had first met her she was rather pre-occupied, and he had left The Burrow the next day, so he hadn’t really had the chance to get to know her.
He picked up a scrap of very old parchment. There was a song written on it. He was about to put it straight on the pile, but something made him read it.
Catch your breath, hit the wall,
Scream out loud, as you start to crawl.
Back in your cage; the only place
Where they will, leave you alone…
“So, aren’t you going back on your…whatever you were doing?”
Harry looked up from the song and sighed. “Yes, when we have another lead. At the moment, I’m out of ideas. Hermione and Ron are probably in the library at the moment doing some research. That was what I was doing before I walked past.”
“You were? Oh, sorry, Harry.”
He chucked. “It’s okay, I needed a break anyway.”
A few minutes passed, and the only sound was the rustle of paper and parchment and the distant murmur of conversation from downstairs.
Asher suddenly looked up from what she was looking at. “Ron is researching, willingly? To be honest, he didn’t seem that kind of boy, but you should never judge from first appearances…”
Harry laughed. “Occupational hazard when you’re Hermione’s friend or boyfriend.”
He picked up another letter, but something made him read on further.
My dear, dear Ash,
How are you? Is your mother dearest being nice as ever? I’m sure she is. Anyway, things here are great. The Potters are a definite improvement on my excuse of a family. Wait, I didn’t tell you, did I? Did I? Well, after another argument with my father, I have walked out…with all my things…and an oath I am never coming back… So I am staying (as previously stated) at Prongs’ house…
He skipped to the end of the letter.
Yours,
Sirius “Padfoot” Black
Harry chuckled and showed it to Asher. She read it through, a grin growing on her lips.
“Arrogant berk,” she said with a laugh and placed it on the ever-growing letter pile. “That was sent the summer before seventh year. Ran away from home and didn’t even tell me until then, two weeks later.”
“So, why are you doing all this anyway?”
She paused before answering. “I have a new job.” She smiled. “So I am getting ready to pack.”
“You’re leaving?” Harry asked.
“Not for a while; you still have to endure another week and-a-half with me. In fact, I think I’m on duty for guarding the Hogwarts Express, so I’ll be with you until then. Once the train gets to Hogsmeade, I start my job pretty soon after.”
“So what does this new job consist of?”
“I’m afraid it’s a secret, I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
She laughed. “Because I can’t, though I suspect you’ll find out eventually. Earlier than you’re meant to, maybe, if you’re anything like your father.”
“Well, does it involve singing?” Harry guessed.
“Harry, everything I do involves singing.”
“So, you’re not performing anymore?”
Asher sighed. “I got a rather rude but, I have to admit, perfectly legitimate wake up call off Charlie.” She scowled, apparently at the thought of it.
“What, Charlie Weasley?” Harry frowned; Charlie had always come across so friendly to Harry
“That’s the one.”
“What happened?”
“Basically, he said I should grow up, and he has a point, I act like a teenager, I admit it. But it still didn’t give him the bloody right to “” She stopped and must have realised she was rambling.
“What did he say?” Harry was curious now. What could Charlie have said that got her so annoyed with him?
“It doesn’t matter now. I just…don’t like him all that much. And I don’t think he is my number one fan.”
Harry nodded, and realised that there were not many pieces of paper left on the floor. He spotted a bar mat underneath a piece of paper.
He picked it up and saw writing on it.
I’m a Lancashire lass, bonny and bright,
Sweet, polite, and pretty,
I go down the music hall every night”
And it cut off there. Harry laughed and read aloud from it. Asher’s eyes widened and snatched it off him, before cracking up in giggles.
“So, why doesn’t it end properly, Asher?” Harry asked innocently.
She looked at him and tried to calm herself. “Probably too pissed to think of any more.” She looked down at the words, her brow furrowed. “Well, if I ever get back on the train of thought I was on then, I’ll get back to you.”
DISCLAIMER: I do not own either of the songs I used in this chapter. "Do the Hippogriff" is from the GOF soundtrack, and "Simon" (which Asher uses as one of her songs in this story) is by Lifehouse. Again, I do not own Treasure Island either.