Chapter Fourteen
Were it not for the bright sunshine- and Mrs. Weasley’s annoyed shriek- Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry might have never woken up. “You’re running late!” the less-than-benign voice wafted up the stairs. “It’ll be your heads if you miss the train!”
Not moments later, the two girls strolled into the room with an air of superiority. “Still getting ready, are you?” asked Ginny.
“Yes, I find it quite funny that we’ve managed to finish before you. Nice boxers, Ron,” said Hermione with a mischievous grin.
“Yeah, yeah. Stop bragging and help us then. How did you get ready so fast, anyway?” asked Harry.
“Tonks showed us a charm to apply instant makeup. You just say ‘Asthetium’ and then whatever look you’re going for,” replied Ginny.
Harry thought Ginny must have been going for model, because she looked quite pretty. Her eyes looked brighter, somehow. Her hair was rolled up into a bun, too, and Harry thought it made her look a few years older.
If the girls were fishing for compliments, they didn’t show distress at their failure. They knew the boys were dunces when it came to the fairer sex.
It was a dark, stormy-looking day; one not at all good for travel. Harry sighed at the scene through the window. He hoped it wasn’t an omen for how the school year was going to be. He sorely wanted one normal year at Hogwarts, but knew it was unlikely. The only way he could have a normal life was if Voldemort died.
Ron finally finished dressing, his hair at all angles, and turned around to growl at the girls. They were impatiently tapping their feet on the floorboards, trying to catch a rise out of him. “You know, if we waited in your room while you dressed, we’d be swat and cursed into oblivion,” he said, feeling disadvantaged.
Joyous thoughts entered the minds of the young men.
“Well, as the founders believed, girls are more trustworthy than boys-“
Both of the boys scowled. “But!”
Hermione continued with a knowing smile. “Plus, we’ve got more to see,” she said as the Ginny laughed.
“Hurry up you four!” came a scream from downstairs.
The teenagers all looked at each other. Mrs. Weasley was always rushed on the days they had to catch the Hogwarts Express, but she was never this tense. They heard leather stomping wood all the way up the staircase. Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway, for all the world looking like Medusa. “If I have to tell you one more time!” she shouted at them, standing with empty, slightly shocked looks on their faces.
“Mum, what’s wrong?” asked Ron.
She paused to look at her youngest son. Her bottom lip twitched. “An Auror went missing from the Ministry last night. There aren’t that many of them! If we lose the Aurors, we’re at a serious disadvantage! And what if Tonks, or Moody, or King-“
“Mum, I’m sure he’ll turn up. It’s not just anyone that is made an Auror,” said Ginny consolingly.
“Yeah, even if the worst was to happen, you got the new generation right here. Our dear Harry, here,” he hooked his arm around Harry’s neck, “is going to train to become an Auror. Plus,” he continued, “he probably is the greatest weapon the Order has.”
Sadness etched in every movement, Mrs. Weasley slowly moved her eyes to Harry’s. Mutual knowledge passed between them; as sad understanding. The others looked from Mrs. Weasley to Harry and back. This was something Harry had kept from them. Her lip quivered.
Molly then re-set her face. “Well, if you three had worked on Disapparating more often, this whole trip would be much easier, and I could just take Ginny.” She went over to Ron to tug a sweater over his unkempt head, despite his muffled complaints. “Even Fred and George learned to before their sixth year!”
“Mrs. Weasley?” asked Hermione weakly.
“Yes dear, does your sore hurt?” she asked, looking very concerned.
“No, I just wanted to let you know, we’ll learn to do it at school . . . before Christmas.”
She smiled sweetly at Hermione. Molly had begun to get attached to her, being Ron’s girlfriend and all. She also took a lot of notice when Hermione visited to help Ron in the beginning of the summer, and he seemed alleviated when she was there. “Of course, Darling,” she pulled everyone into an embrace. “I don’t know why I’m fussing about it. Well,” she said while standing up. “All set then?” she asked, looking around.
“Like we’d risk your displeasure,” smiled Ginny.
The group laughed at her audacity, and dragged their trunks downstairs. Remembering the interesting items he found earlier, he doubled back, and quickly wrapped them before shoving them in his trunk. He rushed to meet his friends. Waiting near the door was Mr. Weasley. “Let’s go, kids, I’ve got a surprise!”
When they stepped outside, they found an elongated black car. “A limo!” shouted Ron.
“A Ministry limo. Ms. Bones allowed me to use it- it’s reserved for the Minister of Magic, you know. For meetings with Muggle chiefs and such. Amelia said that after what you all went through last year, you should be able to ride in style.”
“Whew! It’s about time I got some fringe benefits!” grinned Harry. The students stowed their trunks in the back of the car, and hopped into the limo along with Mr. Weasley. Ron’s face was so alight with awe and excitement, that he was drooling slightly, and didn’t know it. Hermione looked pleasantly surprised, and decided to lie down, as it was more comfortable for her wound. Ginny looked very proper, Harry noticed. She merely sat down, and smoothed her skirt. She caught his eye and gave him a little smile.
The ride to King’s Cross was spent taking the mickey out of Ron, who was enchanted by all of the extras. There was even a Muggle film in the ‘VCR’ that they watched.
They pulled up to the train station, only to encounter a normal, scuttling crowd. They would be heading to platform nine and three quarters, of course. They dragged out their trunks, propped them on trolleys, and strolled toward their platform. “Mum, why aren’t we rushing? I thought we were running late?” asked a curious Ron.
Mr. Weasley looked guilty. “Your mother may have bewitched the time keepers in the house to read a half hour ahead.
“It’s rather nice not hurrying through King’s Cross. You really get to see the scenery,” said Hermione.
“Uh, Hermione? There’re people, luggage, and train cars. Why would you want to see that?” said Ron.
“Just the same . . .” she dazed off.
Harry and Ron caught each other’s eye, and rolled them. They had arrived between platforms nine and ten, and one- by- one, they casually pushed through the wall to the other side. Just as their group became surrounded by a crowd of Hogwarts students, they heard a sharp voice from behind them. “It’s Potter and the dirty Mudblood!”
Harry knew whose voice that was. He turned around only to see a fist coming at his stomach. It hurt, but not as bad as Malfoy was hoping. Harry inwardly thanked Angelina and Wood for training him so hard. Harry stared at his arch enemy with his mouth hanging slightly open. “What in bloody hell are you doing!” he yelled, surprised at this form of attack from someone who despised everything that came from the Muggle world.
Ron lunged at Draco as Harry was yelling, but was caught around the waist by Hermione. “Your dad will take care of it!”
Sure enough, Mr. Weasley did quick wand-work, and had tied Malfoy’s hands behind his back, magically and invisibly. He reached behind the blond-headed boy, and confiscated his wand, as well. “Try it again, Draco, and you will be prosecuted for assault by Muggle dueling. Need I remind you, that you have an obligation to behave in a courteous manner? Where is your mother? I would like to have a word with her-“
“What? I don’t care! He killed him! He killed my father! And now you’re going to pay; I promise you, you will-“
Harry was shocked. Everyone within a fifty foot radius- otherwise known as Harry’s entire school- was staring at him with the same cold, frightened gaze as when they believed he was the Heir of Slytherin. He groaned, “Not again . . . Look here, Malfoy. I didn’t kill your dad, ok? The last time I saw him, he was alive and well, and trying to kill me and Hermione!”
Abruptly, the moment froze. Ron and Hermione holding hands a little behind him and too the right. Mr. Weasley to the left and in front of him, his wand on Draco. Ginny was somewhere behind him, being held back by her mother. Harry felt a soft brush on his arm, and felt himself being gently pushed to the side. Ginny’s hair glinted in the spackles of sunlight as she passed him. She stood directly in front of Malfoy. He, in turn, only glared at her, sputtering an insult or two. She spoke clearly, and with a touch of disdain. “Touch him again- by hand or otherwise- and I’ll make that bat-bogey hex I threw on you look like I put a flower in your hair,” she stared into Draco’s eye from only a foot away. “Do we have an understanding?”
Malfoy looked like he was biting the insides of his cheeks. He obviously desperately wanted to say something, but seemed to take Ginny at her word. He contented himself with giving her menacing looks. Mr. Weasley, deciding he would not continue, released him and tossed him his wand. “Collect your belongings, Mr. Malfoy, and be on your way.”
Harry could have sworn he saw something wrapped around the wand.
Ron’ dad guided the small group toward the train. “I’m proud of you kids, you know. You really defend yourselves rather well. Although, Ginny, I would caution you to use that particular hex sparingly,” he said, smiling with pride.
Ginny walked defiantly with her nose in the air, taking no notice of her father’s half-hearted request. Harry looked at her with a smirk. She certainly had changed over the years. It was strange, but she was a mixture of all her siblings. Scholastically inclined and proud, like Percy. Mischievous, like Fred and George. Brilliant at wizard chess, and protective, like Ron. Obviously, she was adventurous like her older brothers. Unexpectedly, Ginny caught Harry staring, and a warm flush crept up his neck.
“What?” she asked in mock annoyance.
“Er . . . nothing,” he said, and focused on the space in front of him. Unfortunately, in the space in front of him, were Ron and Hermione, holding hands. While Harry was glad they finally got together (and stopped bickering like rabid dogs), sometimes, they were too cuddly. Now and then, their hands would slip into each other’s back pocket. Wait, Hermione’s skirt didn’t have back pockets . . . oh gross!
If he felt a divide between him and his friends after he heard the prophecy, he was now seeing his own alienation from his friends. Come to think of it, Harry actually missed the fighting.
Hermione was fervently whispering to Ron, and he was smiling calculatingly. Occasionally, they both shot meaningful looks back at Harry and Ginny- who was as yet oblivious to all. As a matter of fact, she still looked livid. Surely, she wasn’t still worked up about Malfoy? Quickly, they arrived at the car they wanted, despite the chattering and stares from fellow students.
They all took turns hugging Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "Ron, Ginny- oh, really, all of you- had better write as often as possible. We need to know that you’re doing fine, and any news you may have. Oh, Harry, be careful,” said Mrs. Weasley.
Arthur whispered conspiratorially, “Keep your head about you. Practice everything- especially defense skills. Remember, you do have a family, in us. If anything goes wrong, come to us.”
“I will,” said Harry, appreciating the subtle message.
The train began to steam. “All right, you lot. Time to hop on the train. Mind each other!”
The foursome hopped onto the train with haste. They would miss their parents, but every magical child enjoyed the chance to step out of their reach.