Potter in Poetry

Hey folks! So after a long hiatus, the Silver Doe is back and posting! What I have for you guys today is actually Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone--in verse!! Sounds fun, doesn't it? Well, before you get your hopes up, let me warn you that I wrote this way back when I was 12 or 13 and my writing skills were pretty under-developed...and I unearthed the 'manuscript' from the mess in my room and just thought I'd put it up here! So anyway, enough of my blabbering (I seem to have accidently drunk some Babbling Beverage that my house-elf left lying around)...

*

It was that very fateful night,

A few years ago,

Those were times of terror and misery,

From the dark, deadly foe;

Lord Voldemort entered the Potter home,

Committed murders there,

But came upon unexpected

And fled in despair.

Great were the rejoicings,

The dark forces had quit;

Young Harry was an orphan but safe

And Voldemort a mere spirit.

At Number 4, Privet Drive

The very same night

Appeared a tall wizard, and saw a tabby cat

(Which had been there since daylight)

It suddenly turned into a witch,

Who looked stern and wise;

And then, with a sudden roar, fell

A motorbike from the skies.

It carried a giant of a man

Hagrid was his name,

He held out a bundle and said,

"Young Harry's on the road to fame".

Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall

Bent over the orphaned thing

He'd escaped with but a cut on his forehead

Shaped like a bolt of lightening.

*

That's all for now, I gotto dash...please tell me you're not snoring already...remember I was *really* little when I wrote this :)

Read Part 2

Magical Strokes

Wotcher! As a bona fide and loyal Mugwump, Babbitty unearthed a truly wonderful artist, Leela Starsky whose fan art send the ends of her not-so-muggle brain swirling!! Truly exquisite brush strokes and tints... this artist deserves her recognition on FelixFelicis. So here's to Leela and her enviable talent :)

Oh and if you're wondering who the blonde babe in the pic is... then you're probably as smart as a Flobberworm and shouldn't be here!

For those who can't believe their eyes and are sighing by now... yes... JK looks real peaceful in her pose while she supposedly writes the Deathly Hallows, doesn't she? It was painted as a promo to the book... Wow... just wow

If you're interested to drool at some other masterpieces, the portkey to Leela's site may be grabbed here!! GERONIMO!! :D

http://www.maythemusebewithyou.com/

Weasley and Weasley(deceased)-Chapter 1

Credit due to the tv programme 'Randall and Hopkirk (Deceased)' for inspiring this fic.

There was a rustling noise at the end of his bed - the same sound that always followed the crack! of Apparition, the sound that indicated someone was trying to find their feet. George pushed the bedclothes back from his sleep-wrapped face and sat up, blinking his eyes back into focus. He peered through the darkness of his bedroom, and grinned at a familiar sight.

"Thought you'd never come back," he said with mock-worry in his voice. "You've been gone for hours!"

A light flickered into life by the other bed. "Yeah - sorry -" Fred was fumbling with something on the floor. After a few seconds, George heard the click of a trunk opening, and then the clunk of something being dropped inside. The trunk lid slammed back down, and he saw his twin straighten up, beaming.

George couldn't help but mimic his expression. "I take it you got it, then?" he asked.

"Yep," replied Fred, gleefully. "Slimy gits thought they could nick our patent - had it hidden in their safe!"

"And you didn’t leave anything that could be traced back to us?" George queried, though he knew the answer before Fred raised his eyebrows.

"'Course not!" he cried, then shrugged. "Well… there might've been some Edible Dark Marks involved, I suppose." He spread his hands, palms up, as though anyone would have done the same. "You didn't think I'd just let them get away with it?"

George tried to look disappointed. It didn't last more than five seconds, before both twins burst out laughing.

"I thought we'd pop round tomorrow," Fred suggested, climbing into bed with a satisfied look on his freckled face.

"Yeah," George agreed, "see if they've…" He trailed off. He was now looking at Fred with an odd expression, his grin faltering, eyes becoming slowly unfocused. Someone was shouting his name, though it sounded miles away.

Fred frowned at him. "What's the matter?" he asked. "Forgotten I was dead?"

"GEORGE!" Lee's yell was accompanied by a series of loud bangs. He was hammering hard on George's bedroom door, evidently annoyed. "Do you know what time it is, you lazy sod! Get up - we've got customers!"

The banging ceased, and George opened his eyes to daylight. The room was exactly as it had been in the dream, only the trunk at the end of Fred's bed was very closed and very dusty, having not been opened for over a year. Sunlight poured through the flat's windows, highlighting the heaps of clothing, boxes of untested items and unopened post lying around the bedroom. In one corner was the door to the kitchen, where George could hear that Lee had set the kettle boiling, and from which came a smell like burnt toast. The door to the bathroom was half-open, chilly light glinting off the dripping cold tap.

George stared at the windowsill, where several more letters had been delivered overnight, and then at the door, still vibrating from Lee's wake-up call. He didn't look at the other bed, knowing it would be just as neat and untouched as it had been since… since…

"George!"

"Alright, alright!" He scrambled out of bed, pushing the dream to the back of his mind and grabbing the nearest clothes to hand. He splashed icy water over his face and avoided glancing in the mirror. The knot in his stomach drove any thought of breakfast right out of his head, so he ignored the whistling kettle, hastily brushed his teeth and dashed downstairs.

There was no one in the shop except Lee.

"I thought you said…" George began, frowning at his friend, who was slouched behind the till as though nothing exceptional had happened.

"Yeah, well," Lee began, shrugging. "When I said 'customers', I really meant 'customer' -" He gestured to a stand near the shop door, where, unnoticed by George, a lone customer was hovering near a table of Fake Wands. It was Angelina Johnson.

She had looked up at the sound of George's voice, and was now walking towards him with a vague smile on her dark face. The smile did not quite reach her eyes, which were swamped with a sympathy that George didn't want to see. "Hi," she said cautiously. "Just thought I'd drop by, you know… How's it going?"

George thought he knew what she meant by 'How's it going', and was not sure he was prepared to give her an answer. The last time he had seen Angelina it had been just over a year ago, when she had been lingering by the door to the Great Hall in Hogwarts, staring at the row of the dead with tears streaming down her cheeks. It had been so crowded, the air so thick with dust and relief that he had barely recognised her, and he had been too overcome by his own grief to comfort anyone else.

She was now only a foot or so from him, the smile becoming even more forced. He knew exactly what she must be thinking - here he was, a living, breathing replica of Fred, standing right in front of her.

"Hi," he said flatly. Then, because he thought she must be expecting it, "I'm fine. How're you?"

"Fine," Angelina replied in a well-rehearsed tone. "Um - I got a job just down the road," she told him, her voice becoming a little more natural now. "The Quidditch supplies place - the one with the crazy manager. That's why I'm here, actually."

George raised an eyebrow at her, and she continued: "Lee told me you've got some products for spying on people. For a joke, you know. Only, my boss wants them for a - well - a more serious reason. He's… been a bit paranoid lately."

She was now staring around at the many shelves and stands piled high with brightly-coloured objects, all whirring and sparking at random intervals. "Business good?" she asked.

"Most of the time," Lee answered her with a nervous look at George. He, too, glanced around at the shop, though he was taking in its lack of customers. "Not this morning, obviously…" he muttered. Angelina nodded.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, before Lee continued, "So - products for spying on people… right this way." He got up, moved around the desk and led Angelina off towards a stack of black and yellow boxes marked with pictures of magnifying glasses. George watched them for a second, then, relieved that he no longer had to pretend to be content, he settled himself into Lee's chair and flipped open a copy of the Daily Prophet that was lying by the till.

His eyes moved over the words without really taking in any of the stories: "New Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement - the Third in a Year"; "Suspected Intruder to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry"; "Missing Muggle Found in the Leaky Cauldron". He rubbed a finger against his temple absently, turning the page without any desire to keep reading. Why now? Why now, when he had just started to move on?

The jangle of the shop door announced that Angelina had left, and soon Lee was standing on the other side of the counter, reading the Prophet upside-down.

"What's that about a fire-breathing goat?" he asked, pulling the paper towards him. George made no attempt to retrieve it. "D'you reckon we should get a few for the shop? Be a right attraction…"

The boy with the dreadlocks glanced anxiously at his friend, noting the dark circles around George's eyes. "What's up?" he asked.

George shrugged. "Nothing," he murmured, then saw that Lee was clearly not convinced by his answer. "Really -" he said, "just a stupid dream."

Lee nodded. "Bulbadox powder in your pyjamas again?"

"Something like that…" George said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What did Angelina want?"

"What do you think?" Lee replied, heading towards the door to the flat. "To see if you're alright, of course. Spying on people… you know the guy that runs the Quidditch place - I mean, he's a bit of a maniac, to be sure, but spying on people? It seems we never really had any effect on her ability to tell lies." He put a foot on the bottom step. "Cuppa?"

"Thanks," George told him, and watched his friend disappear up the staircase.

He was being stupid, he told himself. It was just a dream, just a reminder… Fred wouldn't want him to mope around like this.

His thoughts were momentarily distracted by a number of parcels piled on the desk before him, two of which were already emitting puffs of smoke. He dragged the one nearest to him over and flipped open the box. Inside were a few a bits of straw, a rather unpleasant smell, a half-eaten box of Puking Pastels, and a note:

"They made me sick. Money back, please."

There was also an address. George groaned.

He lifted the Pastels out of the box and shoved them to one side, crumpling the note in one hand before tossing it into the bin, which burped obligingly. He was just about to throw the box into the can as well, when he noticed a small bundle of tissue paper sitting underneath the straw. He pulled it out, and as he moved it between his hands the paper became unravelled. Something shiny fell out onto the desk.

It was a thin, gold chain supporting several dark beads and a few shards of polished glass. It looked exactly like the Good Vibrations charms sold in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes - the kind of necklaces that would make the wearer happier if he or she felt a bit under the weather. During the development stage, however, a few had gone wrong and turned black, working to make the wearer even more unhappy rather than reversing their mood. George recalled the very short note: there had been nothing about a charm in there. Perhaps the sender had forgotten to mention it? Perhaps there was nothing wrong with it at all?

He picked up the chain, dangling it before him and watching the garish light of the shop glinting off the pieces of glass. "I may as well test it on myself," he thought dully. "If there was ever a time when I wouldn't be bothered about the change, it would probably be now…"

After only a moment's hesitation, he slung it over his head, letting it settle round his neck. It slipped down under his robes and he felt the cool glass brush against his skin. He stayed very still for a moment, trying to be as aware as possible of his emotions. He didn't feel any different.

There was a thud, as Lee came stomping back downstairs, two cups of tea floating behind him. "Thought I'd better keep them in the air," he told the other. "That step half-way always gets me - we need to get that board fixed."

"Right," noted George, accepting the tea and taking a great swig. The shop door jangled again, and several rather small people crowded inside, chatting and giggling as they pointed to the huge array of products. "Business as usual," he said.


~***~

"Ok, then." Lee trudged back over the desk, clutching a wad of paper in one hand and a small box in the other. "Takings for today," he slapped the paper down in front of George, "and one returned Daydream Charm. Apparently it, er, wasn't to her mother's liking." He grinned. "You alright here, if I -"

"Yeah," said George, a little too quickly. Lee eyed him with an uncertain expression. "You go on home, I'll lock up."

One uneasy second passed, before Lee nodded. "See you tomorrow, then," he said cheerily, flashing a grin as he walked out of the shop. George watched him move off into Diagon Alley, which was now almost empty and hushed with twilight. The street lamps were beginning to glow of their own accord, as fewer and fewer people hurried up and down the road, heading for home or collecting last-minute items. George pulled the shop door shut and sealed the many locks with his wand. The lights overhead flickered off, and he trundled upstairs to the flat.

The knot in his stomach seemed even tighter as he thought of the kitchen, so dinner was now also off the menu. He slipped into his bedroom, and felt his exhaustion from this morning catch up with him in a sudden rush. Dropping down onto his bed, he kicked off his shoes, and fell instantly asleep.

What felt like a split-second later, he was awake again.

It was still dark outside, the lamps having been extinguished in the street below his window, but, he realised with a sickening jolt, there was a light on somewhere in the flat. And not just anywhere - right next to his bed.

"Hey," he heard Fred's voice. "Hey - get up."

George let out a long breath. "Not this again," he groaned, refusing to roll over and look at the dream-Fred who was, undoubtedly, filling his trunk with more salvaged goods.

"No - George, I'm serious - get up!"

"Go away," George muttered, clamping his eyes shut and trying, desperately, to go back to sleep.

"George, you git - wake up!"

"What?" He sat up, spinning round so that he was facing Fred's bed, staring blearily at the figure standing beside it. His heart sank low into his stomach, and he lowered himself back onto the bed. "Leave me alone," he whispered. "Get out of my head, just leave me alone."

"I'm not in your head, you moron!" barked Fred's voice again. "I'm right here!"

"You're a dream," George told him, speaking to himself as much as Fred.

"Why, thank you," replied his twin, "but now really isn't the time for flattery. Look - I don't really know how I got here, so if you wouldn't mind -"

George sat up again. "What are you on about?" he almost shouted. "You're always here, always. Stealing stuff from Zonko's - hiding it in that sodding trunk! You never bloody leave me alone. You won't let me get on with my life even though it's been a whole year since you - and I can't -"

He looked away, staring at the cluttered floor, then he shut his eyes tight to stop the tears that were ready to flow. Fred stood, frozen, on the other side of the room, watching his brother with a pained look on his face. There was silence. Then, without another word, George sank back into his bedclothes and drifted back to sleep.


~***~

The rap of Lee's knocking woke him for the second time in two days, though it was less urgent on this occasion, and was not accompanied by yelling.

"George? Are you alright, mate?"

George let out an unintelligible murmur and rolled over. "What..? What time is it?"

"Half ten," came the reply, muffled by the door. "I wouldn't knock - I mean, I'm not struggling out here, but -"

"Yeah, fine," George said resignedly, pushing himself upright without opening his eyes. "I'll, uh… be down in a minute."

He got shakily to his feet, then heard Lee's footsteps fade as his friend returned to the shop. The daylight gleamed unflinchingly through the windows and the babble of early-morning customers floated up from the room below. George shuffled into the bathroom, washed, and then debated whether or not to stay wearing the same clothes as the day before. After a moment's consideration, and a few hearty sniffs, he decided it was best to change.

Sitting down on the edge of his bed, his brain still not fully awake, he groped around for clean clothes amongst the jumble surrounding his bed.

"Here," someone said, as George found himself hunting for socks, and he glanced up to see a pair being held out to him.

He breathed out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," he muttered, taking the socks and pulling them onto his feet. He stood up and walked to the door. Then he froze.

Slowly, very slowly, he turned round.

There was someone lying on the other bed. Someone alive and well and grinning and looking very, very much like George. Only, it couldn't be. This person had both ears.

"What?" said Fred, one eyebrow raised. "I told you I wasn't a dream."

*

Read Chapter 2

HPNS- Chapter 7

Read Chapter 4, 5 and 6 here or start at the beginning

ABYSS OF REVENGE

“What did you name your pet tarantula, when you were seven?”

“Pet tarantula-over-my-dead-body! This is Ron Weasley and not Hagrid, you piece of dung!”

“Yeah- yeah I know. It was a trick question. An impersonator might not be aware that you can’t stand spiders…”

Harry opened the door of Beatrix Bloxam Place, to allow an extremely disgruntled Ron to enter.

Without a word Ron headed straight for his couch and shoving the rubbish on it to one side, collapsed onto it with his eyes closed. Mistaking him to be physically injured, Harry began his interrogations about the bleeding lip and why he was back from work early.

Ron merely grunted, “It’s nothing… tough day at work, that’s all” and lifted his legs onto the table before him rubbing his eyes wearily.

Harry looked at him for a while before saying, “Hermione was here before. She thought she’d find you here instead of me. I told her I was staying with you for the week”

Ron’s eyes flew up at Harry’s to confirm the statement, and he began to pass his fingers through his hair looking preoccupied.

“What happened at work Ron? Spit it out, you need to be in a better state than this for the night. The Order of the Phoenix is having another meeting and you have to be there” Harry said pouring a glass of water from his wand for Ron.

“What? Tonight? Where?” Ron asked jumping to his feet.

Harry replied, “The same- Grimmauld Place. Now tell me what this is all about”, sitting down next to Ron.

After briefing Harry on why the day had been so unmanageable (he discreetly left out the part about Josh and Ginny, and managed to exaggerate about his bonus to the required extent) Ron took a short power nap. Harry meanwhile decided to commence the preparation for the meeting that evening.

Every member of the Order was to bring with him some contribution for the dinner table so as to prevent Mrs. Weasley from wasting too much energy and resource every so often. They were to carry a change of clothes in case some urgent work was brought up, and an object that could easily be converted into a Portkey. Harry made ‘Aunt Petunia’s seasoned’ pasta for the table and crammed up a trunk with both their belongings, including their broomsticks, his Invisibility Cloak and Ron’s Secrecy Sensors.

He then took a shower and dressed himself decently in robes of deep purple. Harry tried to flatten the hairs that usually stood up at end with his wand. The members of the Order hadn’t overcome their habit of examining Harry closely and compared him to his father constantly. He supposed this was because Harry had now joined the Order just like his father had… he just hoped he would be luckier than his father at the final confrontation with Lord Voldemort.

Meanwhile, Ron had ambled into the bathroom yawning loudly and shuffled around deciding what to wear. He casually asked Harry, “Did Hermione say she’d meet us there pronto?”

“Uh-huh”, was his rather distracted reply, as he examined his sleep-worn pale skin in the steamy mirror.

Harry soon regretted his affirmative answer.

Ron proceeded to take an hour in the shower, almost delaying them and came out looking scrubbed and pine-fresh in his recently purchased bottle green robes. He took several more minutes combing his hair and applying cologne.

“RON- are- you- quite- finished- being- A- PRAT?!” Harry bellowed, eventually losing his patience. He kept checking his watch as he stood at the doorway with their trunk.

Completely unaware of having caused any problem, Ron apparated smartly right next to Harry. A heavy sensual scent wafted right into Harry’s nostrils. He raised his eyebrows at Ron who looked back brazen and unembarrassed.

“Let’s not wait for the grass to grow Harry! Come on, we’ll be late!” Ron piped up cheerfully walking out.

Then they set off together into the velvet night, to attend the very important meeting of the Order of the Phoenix, of which they were now full and essential members…

“The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London” thought Harry and Ron, as soon as they had apparated outside the secret entrance to the headquarters. Harry knocked at the door that appeared, while Ron checked his reflection in the dusty window pane of Number Eleven.

“Password?” a low voice issued from the musty inners of the half-open door.

All these stringent measures were in light of the war… the headquarters was completely secret territory and there was no room here for imposters or traitors. Severus Snape had already betrayed them and they couldn’t risk any infiltration in the Order as the location was now, already known to Voldemort. Kingsley Shacklebolt had finally decided that location was not to be transferred; instead the protection around Grimmauld Place would be increased to the maximum extent. Much to their inconvenience however, this procedure involved selecting passwords that even Sir Cadogan would not have managed to invent.

“Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” Harry and Ron chanted solemnly.

Remus Lupin opened the door to let them both in. “Before we interact on any level, please verify your patronuses, and then I shall verify mine”, he smiled lightly at Harry and Ron gesturing towards the Meeting Hall. With wands held aloft, they entered the dim passage and stood in a dueling position, facing one another.

“Expecto Patronum” was muttered in unison.

The darkness that pervaded the narrow hallway like a vast sepulcher tore open with the brilliant silver light of the three wand tips. A stag… a terrier… and a wolf… faced themselves in their white iridescence, and the owners of the respective Patronuses called them back after the moment’s lingering.

The house which now belonged to Harry was still very dusty and full of Dark magic… flooded with haunting memories of Sirius Black, Harry Potter’s godfather. Harry could almost visualize a tall, thin and dark-haired figure, floating across the staircase singing “God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriff”. The pain shot up through him once more, with every step that he took in Grimmauld Place. Bellatrix Lestrange’s deranged laughter echoed in his mind as he passed the painting of Mrs. Black, hidden behind the curtain. Harry could vividly remember the dreams he had since, where his own fingers were around Bellatrix’s throat … and his green eyes brimming with revulsion and hatred, were reflected in her grey, empty, lifeless eyeballs…

Both he and Ron quietly walked into the hall where a small crowd was sitting at the large dining table. They greeted them in hushed voices and upon finding Hermione sitting with Fred, George and Charlie, walked up to occupy the two seats she had saved for them.

“Hi you guys, what kept you?” she asked passing them each a scroll of parchment and quill.

Her salmon robes complimented her slim, petite figure and Harry thought she looked prettier than she had that very evening when she had met him, at Ron’s apartment.

“I was late from work” Ron said, quickly overriding Harry before he could open his mouth, “that was because Dwindle offered me a bonus of 100 galleons” he whispered further, leaning closer to Hermione as though he expected her to giggle and smother him with kisses.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair and gave a small cough to distract them.

And the very end of the table, Kingsley Shacklebolt rose to address the Order of the Phoenix. “This meeting is in session. To begin we will carry out the formal head-count and then proceed to the order of events to be discussed and implemented”, he said in a low, clear voice.

Arthur Weasley carried out the census and confirmed that all were present except Bill Weasley and Molly Weasley, and Neville Longbottom who had written earlier that he would be delayed.

Then it was Professor McGonagall who stood and spoke gravely, “As you are all aware, three nights ago we lost two members among us, whose courage and contribution had indeed been commendable. I speak of Dedalus Diggle and Seymour Baggins. We will observe a minute’s silence in their honour”.

Harry firmly shut his eyes and clasped his hands together under the table. Diggle and Baggins had been in the Order last time as well and were killed by giants during a mission. There bodies had been found dumped in a small river under the Dark Mark in the sky, mangled beyond recognition. Although Harry had not been present when the bodies had been recovered, he couldn’t quite forget Fred and George’s graphic details of the distortion on their bodies…

The three friends prayed for Dedalus Diggle and Seymour Baggins. As the war advanced day by day their number seemed to be increasingly diminishing, just like the last time.

After the minute elapsed Professor McGonagall spoke again “Tonight, Remus John Lupin will commence his report regarding the whereabouts of Fenrir Greyback and other werewolves under ‘He who must not be named’”.

All attention turned towards Lupin who sat beside his fiancée, Nymphadora Tonks. Although he was dressed in his customary worn-out robes and the grey in his hair shone sharply against the young visage, Harry thought that the colour in Lupin’s face was brighter and healthier than before. He and Tonks had been seeing each other for the past two years and were now engaged to be married. Tonks was a good potioneer as her job required her to be, was brewing the Wolfsbane Potion for him regularly, along with a host of good cooking and love, as Harry imagined.

***

“I think it’ll have to be Moony who gets married before any of us. No matter how pretty Padfoot is he seems to be unlikely to ever take a wife!” James Potter exclaimed with feigned enthusiasm at his best friend Sirius Black, all of sixteen.

Sirius winked right back and repeated in the same tone, “Unlikely to ever take a pureblood wife!”

“What makes you think that someone would be looking to marry a werewolf in such a hurry?” young Remus replied, with an inaudible tone of regret.

Peter piped up, “Sooner you than me! You might just get the best looking woman who’s your cousin twice removed and is half- werewolf herself! I never seem to have any luck with witches…”

Sirius intervened, “Witches? You’d better leave them for us mate, and start looking in the right places from now on. Hogwarts has a lot of rodent holes where they’re just dying to mate with you!”

James and Remus laughed heartily.

“What are you so amused at Prongs? I’ll be standing naked in a cauldron of bat intestines before you get hitched with Lily-poo!” Sirius insinuated mercilessly at James.

James didn’t retaliate in the favour of Lily Evans as expected. Instead he blew smoke rings from his wand lazily, that settled on the surface of the Lake and said with gusto, “It don’t matter Padfoot… whether it’s Remus first, or you or me… or even old Wormtail. The best part is that whether we’re bachelors or married, we’ll always be friends and die for each other’s honour. As the Muggles say - All for one, and one for all! Here’s to the Marauders!”

***

Remus Lupin stood up in his seat, shook the hair out of his eyes and shuffled the papers in his hand. As he began to speak, Harry noticed a glint in his eyes that he had never seen before. It looked as if Lupin was actually shaken out of his usual complacent benevolence, and instead was truly involved with what he was about to read.

“Greyback was spotted in the county of Devonshire where I was myself, a fortnight back. Reports were made of an attack on two boys on the streets at night. When I investigated the next night I understood that it had been him along with three other werewolves. I searched out the families of those children and talked to them regarding the symptoms and identified their attacker. My identity was necessarily revealed in the discussion, so as to gain their trust. They have come on to our side, but obviously we cannot recruit those boys as they will be suffering from uncontrolled transformations. Tonight I intend to go and search for Greyback. From whatever I know of him, he would not have shifted his base from Devonshire within just a fortnight.”

Hermione looked upset at the news of the children and whispered to Harry, “I just wish Remus would be careful though. Personal animosity is not to be the criteria for selecting someone for a mission…”

Before he could make a suitable answer, Ron stood up and said clearly “I volunteer to accompany you for this mission”.

Everyone stared up at him.

Harry knew Ron had been determined for his retribution on Greyback after Bill had been attacked in their sixth year.

“We second his offer, Remus” said Fred and George standing up as well, with uncharacteristically determined faces.

No one knew how best to intervene. If Bill had been present he would have prevented them from any heroics on his behalf. But Bill had stayed at home that night as Pip had come down with a bout of Dragon-pox.

Mad-eye Moody stood up and said gruffly “That’s settled then, Fred Weasley, George Weasley and Ronald Weasley to accompany Remus Lupin in the search and probable extermination of one Fenrir Greyback and any werewolves present. Broomsticks to be set out for departure and… “, he continued while everyone made a note of it on the parchments given to them, as was required.

“Wait a minute”, Mr. Weasley interrupted from the edge of the table where he sat.

Harry had forgotten that Mr. Weasley was present and was thoroughly relieved to see that there was a responsible ‘Weasley’ present to stop them from going.

“Fred, George, Ron… there is no need for you to force your company on Remus. He should be allowed to decide if he needs any volunteers and choose them… we can’t let family matters blind our missions” he firmly said, as his sons opened their mouths to argue.

“Arthur they will be of a great deal of help and undoubtedly all three are talented” Lupin replied “but it’s not my decision that matters. It’s your permission they require”.

“Actually, you’ll see that we don’t!” Fred cut in sharply “we’re of age Dad even Ron, and we jolly well can decide where we wanna go. Dad, please… we won’t mess up and this one’s for Bill”.

Admitting defeat, Mr. Weasley sat down looking anxious and preoccupied. His wife had elected to remain behind with her grandson and now it was his responsibility to break this unwelcome news of their children’s departure to her.

“Our next task for this week involves greater skill and number”, Kingsley Shacklebolt carried forth the meeting, “we have managed to identify the location of Severus Snape, the Death Eater along with the followers- Theodore Nott, Amycus Carrow, Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson. They were seen moving among the common crowd under cloaks in a shopping alley near Westminster Abbey. Our speculations are that they are still present in the vicinity and we will require two Senior Aurors and three other members among us to carry forth this particular mission. If captured and thus proven guilty, we will be able to uncover several more high-profile Death Eaters and be a step closer to He who must not be named himself. Alastor and Nymphadora will represent the Senior Aurors as they have already suggested. Are there any volunteers?” he finished his lengthy statement in a regal voice.

“I volunteer for this mission” echoed both Harry and Hermione’s voice as they stood up together. Exchanging glances of surprise at each other they looked straight towards McGonagall and Shacklebolt.

“And I second their volunteer” called a voice from the left of Harry, which belonged to Charlie Weasley.

“I’ll be there as well… their jes’ ruddy kids the lot o’ them” growled Rubeus Hagrid drawing himself up to an intimidating height.

Moody stood up once more to make a record of this second mission, while Mr. Weasley sighed in his seat. He knew exactly what his wife would say if she found out that all of her sons in the Order had signed up for the toughest missions yet- one that involved actual confrontation with known Death-Eaters.

Kingsley Shacklebolt stood up again, “Our next task tonight which will involve your aid Madame Maxime…”

An hour later the party quietly filed into dinner and there was a buzz of excitement. Harry felt a sharp sensation in the pit of his stomach, as he walked with Ron and Hermione beside him. If he was lucky tonight he would confront Snape… a man he now hated as much as Voldemort himself. He knew that he wouldn’t rest until he had raised his wand on Snape. He had volunteered for this task for the same rash reason. Hermione, who always thought well in advance must have understood Harry’s desire when Shacklebolt had introduced the mission. He didn’t want to question her or stop her from going with him because he knew it was a pointless debate. Harry comforted himself with the thought that perhaps Hermione’s decision to volunteer had nothing to do with him and it could have been because Hermione detested Pansy Parkinson…

But Harry knew her better and she had just revealed that she never let personal rivalry blind her in such matters… undoubtedly she was more controlled and smarter than all of them.

As he found himself a place and laid his pasta on the table he bumped into Neville beside him.

“Oh hi Harry! So sorry I missed the meeting, had to be near Gran at the hospital”, Neville said, shaking Harry’s hand grimly, “she’s been getting a migraine frequently now, after that Death Eater hit her with a funny curse in Diagon Alley. I don’t think I missed much though; I never get selected for missions”.

He sat next to Harry, Ron and Hermione and they shared a polite conversation on how Neville had put his name down for Herbology Professor at Hogwarts as soon as he was qualified enough. Harry knew that neither Ron nor Hermione were paying any real attention to the talk. Ron was staring down at Harry’s pasta with thoughts that were evidently unrelated to the food on his plate.

They had only gone on one of the Order’s missions before when they had been seventeen and it had then involved plenty of adults accompanying them and some trivial spy work.

Meanwhile, Hermione absently helped herself to some of Hagrid’s rock cakes and Harry had to slap her hands away from them in the nick of time.

“How are all o’ yeh’ doing?” Hagrid said moving towards the trio “Gotta admit, I miss Hogwarts and less’ns”.

By the time the Grand Clock struck midnight, they were all ready with their broomsticks and belongings. Harry went over to Ron and embraced him, “You’ll be fine Ron. Just take care of Fred and George and DON’T get bitten… that’s all”, Harry said quietly, while Hermione joined them.

She and Ron stared at each other for a moment and then she lightly hugged him as well, whispering “Good Luck”.

“And to you as well…” Ron replied dejectedly “Oh and if you guys really see Snape, give them a Bat-Bogey Hex with my love!”

Both Harry and Hermione smiled slightly at Ron, who walked slowly up to Fred, George and Lupin standing at one corner. They both wondered if either of them would see him again, healthy and alive. Harry looked at Hermione who looked uncertain, nevertheless bold.

“We’ll see him again, don’t worry. You still have to tell him that you like him” Harry said, trying to induce some humor into the situation.

Hermione exclaimed with a contorted face “What? What gives you that idea?”

Hagrid, Charlie, Tonks and Moody joined them and Moody took a while explaining complicated tactics that involved them all dying in the end. It was quite a relief when Tonks intervened and simplified the plan.

They were to fly towards Westminster and separate in pairs. First attempt was of course to bring down the Death Eaters alive… but they were allowed to kill them as last resort. One thing was completely clear of course. Missions of the Order of the Phoenix were not supposed to fail, couldn’t fail. Simply put, it was their lives at stake in case of the slightest mistake committed.

Harry mounted his Firebolt with rigid determination to settle his scores… waiting for the next adventure that lay ahead… he was ready for it.

Read Chapter 8 The Phoenix Vendetta here

Potter Puppet Pals

The video speaks for itself... lay back and enjoy. It's a real Laugh Riot!!!







Hahahahahaha.... 'Snape-snape-Sev-e-rus-Snape' ...... 'DUMB-LE-DORE'!!!

Potterwatch - Sneak Peek at the filming of HBP

Welcome to yet another broadcast by Potterwatch! You have got this week's password right and that is 'Fudged'. Our correspondent Babbitty Rabbitty, on the muggle internet site called 'We-Pipe'... erm apologies.. 'Youtube' has discovered an Exclusive sneak Peek at the ongoing shooting of the next awaited WB Production- Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince.

This video is a continuation of the 1st part already posted in the blog. The real juicy details of direction are here, and it doesn't just go on about Tom Riddle's Orphanage n Quidditch. Speculation on Ron's snogging scenes in the movie and also Harry-Ginny romance. Except that we don't know who plays Lavender Brown yet (that Man-eater!)












Personal Comment- I'm so glad Dan's grown his hair back from 'close-crop tough dude' look in OOTP. He's definitely looking hotter in this one, but I swear... the only glorious eye candy I got from Dan was in the sweatshirt and floppy hair of Prisoner of Azkaban. I had totally seen harry like that in my mind. Rupert, of course has my full favour because he's so unbeatably cute and unbeatably 'Ron'!!! And yes... Emma is turning into more 'Britney' as each movie progresses! What-is-with-her-blond-hair?????????????

Next week's password- You-Know-Poo

HPNS - Chapters 4,5 & 6

Wotcher guys! Babbitty is Back with a Filibuster Bang!!! n there's loads more masala to lose yourself in this time!! Sincerest apologies for my long absence during this period of turmoil where I see that all of you have been quite busy, posting great stuff. And so in compensation, I present a Package of 3 fully-loaded chapters of the Necessary Sequel that I've been dying to post (and hopefully will be read in the same fashion). So enjoys and lose yourself in this Alternate Universe of HP mazaa!!

Read Chapter 3: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them here or start at the beginning

CHAPTER 4 - 'BURROW'ING

“Harry! How can you stop to think with all this food here? Its bin ages since you had a decent meal, buddy. Dig in!” Fred Weasley exclaimed.

Harry broke out his reverie and was passed a bowl of stuffed bell-peppers across the table.

“Mm? Thanks Fred… I’m okay”

He looked to his left to see Ron and Hermione deep in conversation, they’re heads bent low on the plates. Harry wondered if they were talking about him, or about the little escapade they had had just a week ago regarding the horcrux…

But then he saw Hermione break off laughing and knew that it was just one of Ron’s light comments.

A week back, Harry wouldn’t have believed such a reunion dinner possible. His wand had been held not to pour wine into his goblet, but to siphon blood from his best friend’s body. The cup of Hufflepuff was retrieved and added to Harry’s mounting possessions… all of which reminded him of incidents he wanted to forget.

Ron and Hermione had spent the last week at St. Mungo’s recovering from respective ailments. Ron had been injured with a broken rib and leg, while Hermione had been victim to a host of burns, scratches and bites that a ‘muggle’ certainly wouldn’t have survived… but she looked much better since then.

Harry tried to leave the thought behind, and enter one of the many conversations that were going on at the Weasley’s dinner table. Fred, George and Ginny being the closest, he tried to hear what was being discussed.

“…and after all the booming shares we’ve managed of late, we’ve decided to make it abroad, you know. We were thinking of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes hitting the ports of Singapore!” George was saying enthusiastically, waving his wine-goblet.

“I don’t see how that can be successful… most of these foreigners have absolutely no sense of humor” Ginny muttered darkly, nodding towards Fleur Delacour-Weasley at the edge of the table.

Harry looked towards Fleur, who was flailing her hands in indignation at a tiny baby boy sitting in her lap.

“Philippe! Why can’t yew behave good? Zis boy is seemply too naughty, just like ees father! Now yew made mess all over my new peenafore!”

The baby merely gazed up at her with its watery blue eyes and giggled. It threw up more of its milk and the bowl in his mother’s hand exploded, angry shards flying everywhere.

“Here honey, give him here” Bill Weasley kindly intercepted.

Lifting the infant in the air, Bill shook him a little, “Mum’s right Pip. Food stays in mouth and goes into that little belly, savvy?” he reasoned with his six- month old son.

Pip chuckled again in mid- air.

The next thing, everyone was laughing at Bill’s face covered with his son’s vomit. Pip had also managed to grow his own blonde hair to his father’s length, complete with a ponytail.

“Definitely my favorite nephew!” screamed Fred laughing, while Ginny swayed on her chair wildly and fell to the floor.

“Seriously, if I EVER get married, someone remind me never to have kids”, Ron cried, wiping his eyes from laughing.

Everything was just the way it should have been…

Harry couldn’t imagine a happier evening. He was with the people he loved most; the family that loved him as a son. He smiled vaguely to himself, understanding that it was impossible to alienate himself from these people. No matter how hard he tried to run away or hide, they always came back for him, to help him, to protect him…

“Harry, have you destroyed it- the cup?” Hermione asked leaning closer.

“Not yet. It needs some examination and I’m not sure how Dumbledore destroyed the ring. So it goes right next to the locket” Harry replied.

Hermione offered him a glass of oak-matured mead and said “I’m working on it. But seeing that Hogwarts is almost out of bounds with the Giants right outside the main entrance, I haven’t had any access to a library for research on how-to-destroy-them”

“I suppose it was a lot better with the dementors circling the castle in our third year”, Harry took a gulp from his goblet sullenly.

“Don’t drink that stuff mate; remember what happened to me last time? Try this…” Ron passed him a bottle from under the table, brushing Hermione’s leg as she sat between them.

“Ogden’s Olde Fire whisky?”

“Yep, Fred got it for the table but Mum didn’t allow it. Go on have a sip. It’s great the first time”, Ron replied.

Hermione however, raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. “You shouldn’t be allowed to get wasted at the dinner table, its terrible etiquette! Harry don’t touch it! Fred got it for the table; you’d better keep away from it.”

“And since when have you been an expert at alcohol Ronald Weasley?” she added, turning around to face Ron.

“Since I came of age” Ron retorted, “but if Harry doesn’t want it… or isn’t brave enough to stand up to you, I’d be happy to do the honours!”

“Harry dear! You haven’t tried the Summer Pudding. Here… Ginny won’t you pass it to Harry” Mrs. Weasley handed her daughter the dessert.

As Ginny passed the dish to Harry, he noticed an odd look in her eyes. She didn’t look sad but glanced meaningfully at him.

Their hands brushed against each other during the transaction.

Ginny looked away.

Harry’s insides squirmed with guilt. He knew that he had avoided confronting Ginny for over a year and they had only shared a few insignificant polite conversations. He didn’t know what he wanted from her, and was quite sure that he didn’t want to risk her life by seeing her again.

But try as he might, he could not rid himself of the empty feeling on lonely, uneventful nights when he was actually in bed… and of a beautiful vision of a red-haired Goddess entering his room and running her fingers through his hair.

Dinner was finished and the party of fourteen soon retired in the living room.

Hermione was crooning over Pip as Fleur tried in vain, to put him to sleep. Ron stood behind Hermione rolling his eyes at her obvious weakness for babies and dropped himself on a couch beside the fire. Mrs. Weasley resumed her knitting of woolen ‘booties’ for her very first grandson. Mr. Weasley was discussing with Fred and George, plans for their future ambitions in business. Bill and Charlie were conversing seriously with a parchment spread across the table. Just as Harry decided to retire for the night after a heavy dinner, he saw the ‘beautiful vision’ walking towards him and felt himself going hot under his collar.

“Well Harry… it’s been a while hasn’t it? How have you been?” Ginny asked him, her eyes flickering from the light of the fire.

Harry noticed that they were quite alone in the corridor and had a crazy idea of putting an end to all the talk and simply grabbing Ginny in his arms and squeezing her.

The smell of her hair and clothes was enough to drive anyone wild. He felt hypnotized by her eyes piercing into his, and a hot trickle of sweat went down the back of Harry’ neck…

He realized he could go no longer without making a reply.

“Umm… I’ve been better. How’s it going at the Ministry? Ron told me that you’re trying for the Department of International Magical Cooperation” Harry said quietly.

Ginny merely looked at him for a long time.

“Harry I need to ask you something” she finally said, “I wanted to ask you what the deal is with… us…”

He had long expected this conversation and was fully conscious of the fact that Ginny Weasley wasn’t the type of girl who would sit and mourn for Harry’s love every night. She was beautiful, young and intelligent… always on the go… and of course irresistible to all of her male colleagues at work.

He heaved a deep sigh, and rubbed his eyes wearily.

“Ginny, I have absolutely no right to reserve you for me. You are a person, perhaps the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. We haven’t spoken for so long because I think you shouldn’t have anything to do with me or worry about me, when all this is already going on…

I’m fine… umm… there is no deal between us. I will always continue to feel about you the way I have. But you are free to do as you please. The thing is… I don’t want you to spend your life waiting for me and then be destroyed, if we never get a chance. I’m happy to have you…” Harry paused further, “only as my best friend’s little sister”

She looked up at him astounded and Harry began to wonder if he had been correct in estimating what this was all about. In fact he felt quite embarrassed by what he had just said, caught up in the passion.

“That’s all is it? What I interpret from all that is that you’re okay with me seeing someone else” Ginny asked softly.

She didn’t look distressed or happy… her expression was quite unreadable.

Harry thought it was a little foolish, and shameless to ask “Why… has someone asked you out”. He was sure that was the case, but didn’t know how long Ginny had been turning down the guy for the sake of his approval. He felt quite sorry for her… and while he was at it… sorry for himself too.

Harry quietly nodded and then looked away. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes, but he wanted so much to lose himself in them for all eternity. He wanted to love her to distraction…to let the whole world know.

But this was wrong… he couldn’t let anyone stand in his path or distract him from his task. There were millions of witches and wizards out there, counting on him to destroy the most evil and powerful dark wizard for a century.

“So… the great Harry Potter sacrifices his lady love for the sake of mankind and justice!” Ginny declared sarcastically.

“Harry… no matter what you say or do, it’s pretty evident what’s really on your mind. But I have your word and am going to warn you. No matter how noble you are, you are a normal human being. Tonight, you brought this decision upon yourself. But I give you leave to change your mind… especially when this will bite where it really hurts” Ginny said, a small smile playing across her lips.

Her words were not unkind… but remarkable… just as remarkable as she was.

Harry didn’t know how best to reply to the aforementioned conditions that had been made clear.

Ginny leaned forwards and kissed the back of his ear lobe. As she stood on tip-toe for a minute, moistening the spot where her mouth touched his skin, Harry could take in the warmth of her body more than ever.

This time, small stars of a different variety exploded before Harry’s eyes.

He looked down at her, and she flashed her devilish smile… she was perfect… in every way… and even though Harry knew he had lost her for now… she would come back to him… that he, Harry would live to see a day when Ginny Weasley was truly his… only his.

CHAPTER 5- WHAT WITCHES WANT

“And then you kissed him? And just walked away?” Hermione asked Ginny the next evening, while they sipped coffee at the Three Broomsticks.

“Absolutely… I wanted to be enigmatic about it, you know, leave him in two minds about the whole thing” Ginny smirked, blowing foam off her mug.

“Well, that part was pretty much covered. I don’t think he’s fathomed what’s on his mind. I mean that, he obviously loves you, he said so himself didn’t he?” Hermione asked, puzzled by Ginny’s expertise when it came to handling men.

“I don’t know about love… but I still pretty much got the thunder when it comes to him” Ginny replied, tossing her hair like a ‘Phlegm’.

Hermione continued “And you think this Josh person likes you…a Trainee Auror you met at Ron’s office?”

Ginny said matter-of-factly “Josh is everything but Harry… fun-loving and carefree sorts. None of the serious stuff or brooding, it’s a welcome change actually. We just talked a bit and before I knew it, he was totally making the eyes at me, but I couldn’t just leave Harry”.

“If you ask me it’s a bit strange how you seem to have recovered from Harry so quickly… are you really over Harry?” Hermione probed further.

“Gimme a break Hermione! Its bin a year now and nothing from him. This is the longest break a couple goes on! And besides, he certainly seems to be doing fine without me, busy as he already is. So I don’t want to distract him or interfere in his mission. And you wouldn’t complain if you saw Josh Darlington. He’s so delicious I could eat him up” Ginny finished her speech, licking off the cream from her coffee with relish.

Hermione smiled uncertainly. She had always vouched for Harry and Ginny to be together, given that they had already dated for a short period two years back. But she knew that this was far from over. With Harry and Ginny, it was ‘never off the table’… even when they weren’t dating they were a “couple”.

“Well, enough about me, what about you and Ron? Have you guys made any progress?” Ginny asked Hermione with feigned innocence.

“Really Ginny, I think we’ve had enough talk about affairs. When will you finish your summer correspondence with Hogwarts?” Hermione replied, going red.

Ginny chuckled at the defense mechanism, “My summer correspondence ends in the summer obviously… but don’t change the subject! Do you or do you not like my brother?”

“Of course I like him! He’s one of my best friends!”

“Do you lurve him? Can you see yourself having children with him? And you and I can play good ol’ sister-sister! Living in a great white cottage by the sea, where not even Luna’s Cacky-Horned Snorgles can get the both of you?” Ginny sang relentlessly.

“That’s quite enough Ginny!” Hermione practically hid her face behind the coffee mug, “it doesn’t matter what I feel because I know that Ron doesn’t see me that way”

“But you’ve GOT to let him know what you feel! My git of a brother could take centuries before he realizes that he loves you… because he DOES, he always has” Ginny insisted gently.

“Tell me more about Josh Darlington… is he blond and blue- eyed like the rest?” Hermione retorted looking determinedly away from Ginny’s face.

Ginny applied the usual tact… she looked straight at Hermione for a long time and then said slowly “It’s settled then… you don’t like Ron and don’t want to wait for him. Why I don’t I set you up on a spectacular blind date? You know what? We can double-date… me-Josh and you with Mr. X. it’ll be good fun!”

“WHAT! No! Wait… I mean… no! I can’t… I –I – d-don’t believe in blind dates a-and…” Hermione went pink and looked flustered.

“I know this really cute guy in my department- Michael Cartwright; he’s senior than me, probably about two or three years older than you. He’s single, tall, brunette and pretty much packed with everything a woman can want. I’ve been trying to store him for myself, but you can have him as you’re my best friend. Also he’s more your type as he can’t stand women who are just good-looking but empty at the top floor” Ginny coaxed further.

“Are you saying Ginny Weasley, that just because I got the highest percentile score every year at Hogwarts, I’m ugly, but this Michael guy will take me anyway?” Hermione retorted; her cheeks botched pink.

Ginny continued in a smooth voice “You know as well as I do that you can look fantastic if you want to. It’s your natural thing that works the charm on men. And I’d much rather have you or Tonks over someone like Phlegm- and did I mention that Michael is very appreciative of the SPEW?” Ginny said everything at one breath.

There was a brief spell of silence as Hermione stared at Ginny, with a new expression.

The Three Broomsticks around them had begun to clear out. As evening set in, the crowds thinned in Hogsmeade. Everyone was keen to make it safe to their beds at night now that there was absolutely no place where they could be safe. Only a few weeks back, three small wizard boys were killed by Death Eaters in the alley leading to Zonko’s joke shop.

“We’d better get back home Ginny, it’s getting dark and this discussion isn’t worth our lives” Hermione said urgently, moving towards the counter to pay for their coffees.

“You bet it is!” Ginny continued excitedly “So do we have an agreement or not? Look its foolproof… if you like Michael, then good for you and if you don’t then Ron will be jealous enough to kill him and profess his undying love for you… either way you win”.

“Thanks Ginny, but I really think you should spent time more engagingly than finding ways of uniting me and your brother… it’ll never happen. And I’m really busy these days with getting a lease and registry for S.P.E.W. You- uh- you carry on with Josh… who knows, he might just be ‘the man’ for you” Hermione said with a note of finality.

Ginny smiled to herself as they exited the pub, she definitely had a plan materializing in her head. She and Hermione hugged goodbye before apparating towards their respective homes.

Hermione reached her apartment later than usual that night. She had left Ginny to finish some grocery shopping. As she spread the Daily Prophet before her, and chewed her dinner silently, she realized that she would die alone and boy-friendless if she didn’t make a move soon. Poking her salad with a fork, she wondered sullenly what she wouldn’t give to have Ron ‘profess his undying love for her’.

The adventure at the castle had brought them closer again. She knew that Ron used to stare at her for some time before sleeping when they shared a ward at St. Mungo’s. She could feel his gaze upon her face, when she pretended to be asleep. Then again, they had been this close before on several occasions and Ron had mentioned nothing. She felt very small and sad as she looked at the empty chair opposite her, wishing that someone would be there with a bunch of roses and she could enjoy a typical candlelit dinner with him.

As she got into bed clutching a spare pillow close to her bosom, she lay awake for a great length of the night. Ginny was right. It was just a crush she had on Ron, just a crush on a best-friend… and she didn’t want to wait for him or mess up what they had as friends.

She and Ron would be thrown into each other’s company as long as they would know each other… but there was something about this ‘Michael’ guy that she wanted to explore. There was every chance that he would be nothing significant but it was only one night and a harmless blind date.

Not that Hermione believed in things like blind dates, she actually didn’t know what she believed in anymore. Ever since she had looked into the faces of those deathly creatures that night, felt her own life wear away and battled every one of them with the only the hope of being alive again… she realized that her life was too short for waiting…

Hermione knew that her allegiance to Harry came before everything and she expected Ron to do the same… but from what that night had turned out to be, she felt that eventually one unlucky night would be the end of her.

She rolled sleeplessly to her back and gazed up at the roof. Ron had grazed her bare knee under the table that night at dinner and she had felt a little shudder move along her spine. What she didn’t understand was that Ron had always been near and she had always felt the same way about him. Why was she losing her head and a good night’s sleep over thoughts like these? She had always conducted herself gracefully so far.

But perhaps the talk with Ginny where she had almost discussed Ron freely, and the way Ginny had egged her on to make a decision had had the effect. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore… a part of her wanted to be there with Michael and look good, while there was another half protesting Ron’s cause… what was she to do about him?

That night she decided… that things with Ron were to remain unchanged and to progress as they usually did- at snail- pace. She would agree to go to that date and not be afraid of what she didn’t know… she would wear that lovely skirt she had bought for herself during her holiday to France with her parents. Ginny would be really pleased and Hermione would like that. And she privately agreed with Ginny… the plan was foolproof… if she liked Michael then it was just great, and if she didn’t, Ron would definitely be jealous and do something about it… or at least she hoped. And with that final thought, Hermione Granger closed her eyes and dreamt of large freshly mowed lawns… books and parchments flying in the air and Ron Weasley wearing a suit of armor and sword racing on a horse to come and rescue her from alligators.

Chapter 6- The New Regime

It was early, the next day that Ron stood in the line outside Dwindle’s office with baited breath. He had woken up to a seemingly beautiful morning and had actually reached work on time. The Ministry building was as large and bustling as ever, what with its employees working overtime under Scrimgeour’s new administration. This was his second day at work, back from St. Mungo’s after an extended break. There had been no time for explanations the previous day as they had all been preparing for a new assignment that Junior Aurors would be sent on. He had not been compelled to offer any explanation for his absence to anyone except a few of his colleagues in the cubicle that was allotted to him. The event of Walden Macnair’s capture at his own hands had been carefully and enthusiastically narrated.

Today however, he had been called to the Big D’s office, an area most Aurors usually avoided. ‘Meredith Dwindle’ was the newly appointed Head Auror…a man who didn’t believe in holidays or sick-leave or dinner-at-home, especially during the war. What he did believe in however, was venting lava upon any employee, whether senior or junior, in case the work was ‘nearly abysmal’. Yet another quality that Dwindle exhibited was a severe and unimaginable dislike for the Dark Arts and no mercy was shown to a captured Death eater during trial. Hence the post of Head-Auror… he was ruthless, unrelenting and clever… a perfect match for the enemy.

Ron wasn’t scared of him… he was terrified. And as the line of ‘abysmals’ before Dwindle’s office moved forwards he realized, that either way, the moment he stepped into that office, he was a goner.

“Ronald Weasley!” a voice boomed from within the office. Throwing dungbombs at Lord Voldemort’s face would have been a safer bet than entering this joint, thought Ron as he gulped and walked in. The ‘tyrant’s’ office was pretty much everything like him… neat, organized and spelled ‘efficient’ in large letters. Dwindle’s secretary sat in the corner making notes with his quill and separating parchment. On the four walls, there were posters with quotes that were being circulated in the department as pamphlets. It was part of Scrimgeour’s idea of organizing the Aurors and instilling some vigour and enthusiasm among them in light of Emergency that had been declared. Ron read flashy, bright words on the walls like “Competence and skill, is what makes an Auror a Good Auror” or something like “Never be late for work… Never”. Ron also noticed a poster that said “It’s called ‘VOLDEMORT’ and not ‘you-know-who’.

He thought to himself glumly as he sat across that Hermione would have been an ideal employee in this joint.

“So… you are Ronald Bilius Weasley, am I correct? I understand that you have not come to work for the last 9 days owing to the fact that you were in St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries?” Dwindle asked Ron in a crisp tone.

“Y-Yes Sir” Ron replied, wishing that he could evaporate on the spot.

Dwindle continued with malice “The estimated amount of working hours wasted on your counterpart is 92.3 hours. Before I deduct the aforementioned value from your earnings, might I ask what affliction you were suffering from and how it came to be?”

Ron looked down into his lap, feeling as small and insignificant as a Flobberworm.

He replied in a low tone “I was tailing a Death Eater- Walden Macnair… you know the one whom I turned in last week. You see, when I tried to follow him I- I-uh… missed a step and fell down a flight of stairs…and-uh-and-erm I broke my rib and right leg and was bruised real bad…and that was why I was at Mungo’s”

Not altogether convincing… the half-truth spilled out of Ron’s trembling white lips.

“And this man you speak of, Walden Macnair. In your honourable views, he is sure to be a Death Eater. Might I impose the enquiry as to how you were so aware of his whereabouts?” Dwindle asked again maliciously.

This time Ron looked up, he wasn’t going to tell Dwindle that he had in fact been helping Harry destroy the horcrux… no, that was top secret. But what could he say…

“ We all know for a fact that Macnair was a Death Eater… he’s been on the most wanted list ever since proof was found of his involvement in the murder of those boys in Hogsmeade” Ron retorted coldly “and as for where I found him, that is inconsequential considering the fact that I have brought you a Death Eater, dead!”

Ron wasn’t quite sure if he would ever make it out of Big D’s office alive after that. As though he suffered from an apoplectic disorder, Dwindle gulped nervously and deflated before him. Muttering incomprehensibly, he shuffled a few papers before him and then got up to pace the room to and fro. Ron wasn’t sure if he imagined the words ‘scandalous’ and ‘abysmal’ in the gibberish being thrown about, as the words they were so used to hearing in Dwindle’s inspiring speeches.

“Son, I admire your sentiments. Of course the matter of consequence is that we at the Ministry have captured a fugitive and criminal, in the list that has been circulated among trainee and Senior Aurors alike. But…”

“Erm Sir, please excuse my correction. I have captured the said fugitive and criminal… not we…” was Ron’s shameless interposition.

The blow didn’t fall as he had anticipated. Instead Ron was announcing the incredibly good news to his colleagues a few moments later.

“RON! A bonus! Wow! I’m so proud of you!” Sally Portman exclaimed ecstatically.

“Blimey Sally! I wish you were there to see old Dwindle’s face when I said that ‘I’d brought him a Death Eater dead’. He looked as if I’d slapped him and then grumbled that in that case I deserved a bonus. You just need to stand up to him a little, I guess. I mean that he’s really just a softy” Ron said, ruffling his own hair imaginatively.

“Yes- yes we’re all very proud you showed him some gut Ron!” cried David Ledger patting him on the back.

Ron was surrounded by his team of Trainee Aurors and shared a glass of wine with them. He felt happier than he had in a long time. This was a matter of a bonus of 100 galleons and there was no telling what he could do with that kind of money. He had wanted to purchase that handsome set of dress robes on display at Madame Malkins a month back, for the Annual Auror’s Fund- Raiser in April. The robes Fred and George had got him were already faded and a little short at the sleeves. Ron sank into a chair and decided that he’d make himself the purchase for his birthday next March.

He suddenly got up from his chair a moment later, and made for the door.

“Where to Ronald? We’ve gotta be at the X Room in a few minutes for practice” Sam Whittaker drawled from the corner.

“Just a mo… I’ve got to deliver these documents to Josh in his office, Dwindle asked me to pass them on to him” Ron replied.

And he left the idle conversation among his colleagues, walking out through the door. The last he heard was them, tease Sam about his new girlfriend whose unknown identity had been the cause of a lot of gossip. Ron’s head was swimming as he walked from one cubicle to the other to get to the block where Josh Darlington’s office was. His first thought had been what Hermione would think of the bonus. She would be elated, elated enough to perhaps reward him… in ways that only he could imagine. He abruptly turned around to check as though worried that someone had read his thoughts. Then smiling to himself, he opened the door to Josh’s cubicle, visualizing what it would be like to lift Hermione in the air in his arms and watch her sunlight smile light up her face...

Ron stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn’t explain what he saw. For a long time he stood gaping at the spectacle before his eyes and didn’t know how to react. If he had only known, while getting out of bed that morning, that work today would be full of so many surprises, he would have gone right back to sleep. After all there was a limit to what a young man full of adrenaline could take at a time. And right now adrenaline was roaring for him to whip out his wand and curse the man before him.

Instead, Ron walked right up to the desk and slammed the documents he had to deliver onto the table.

The couple, who sat on the chair behind the desk, broke apart from an extensively passionate kiss. Josh blinked at Ron being too stunned to speak, and he couldn’t relate Ron’s livid face to what he had been doing. But it was Ginny…Ginevra Molly Weasley, who knew exactly what this was about.

“Dwindle asked me to drop off these. They’re important so you’d better take a look at them right away, Darlington!” spat Ron, his ears growing dangerously red.

If Ginny had ever seen Ron this charged, it had been earlier on a somewhat similar occasion, when Ron had walked in on her and Dean Thomas kissing behind a tapestry at Hogwarts. She had been angry then too as she was now. Ron seemed to be singularly armed with this ability to interfere in her personal affairs.

“Umm… sorry about this Ron” Josh grinned, his arms still around Ginny’s waist “didn’t hear you come in. Did Dwindle say what these were about and when I should send them back?”

Ron looked right into Josh’s face. The perpetrator was actually smiling. Obviously Josh had no idea as to what this WAS about, thought Ron furiously. He turned his gaze to Ginny who didn’t look remotely abashed or showed any signs of recognition.

“Just what I would imagine”, thought Ron.

There was once a time when he, Ron would have hexed Josh Darlington and taken Ginny straight home to their mother. But Ron was ready this time… more mature and prepared.

“Oh Yeah! Dwindle told me that whenever it was possible for your highness to take a look at these ‘would-be’ important documents, you could post him your reply if it doesn’t bother you too much, or interfere in any snogging sessions planned in your schedule for today” Ron bellowed, leaving the room with an ironic bow.

Ron marched up to the X Room, to join the others. His ears were ringing… Ginny Weasley with Josh Darlington… a Junior Undergraduate with a Trainee Auror… more importantly, HIS baby sister with ‘some’ guy in his office… no… Ron simply wouldn’t have it, he’d put a stop to it… even if it meant killing Josh.

He gave the password to the X Room and verified his fingerprints before entering. (The Fingerprint Reader, had been a new addition to the security and the idea had been suggested by a Muggle Auror, who had seen them being used in Muggle Spy films)

“You’re late” said the Senior Auror in charge of the X Room, watching Ron stride in, his face botched up.

“Sorry… I had to deliver some documents for Mr. Dwindle” Ron grumbled.

He went and hid behind Sally Portman who whispered to him frantically “How long did that take you? Did you and Josh fight or something? Where’s Josh? He’s supposed to be here too”.

Ron didn’t reply. This was the Auror office and news traveled fast enough as it is… and he didn’t want to help spread this particular nugget of information.

“…now the key is to concentrate, if done correctly with determination and strength of character, it will enable you to deflect even the Imperius Curse” Ron felt the Senior Auror’s words penetrate his befuddled mind. He had done this before, trying to throw off the Imperius Curse. A Death Eater in the guise of Mad- Eye Moody had taught them in their fourth year at Hogwarts. This wasn’t the first time that Ron found the training in the X Room excessively boring and tiresome. But he was in no position to argue with the new Ministry approved procedure and course for the training of Aurors. For the first few sessions they had reviewed spells that Ron had already learnt from Harry at the Dumbledore’s Army, and there had been other shields and defensive magic that he and Hermione had helped Harry learn for the Triwizard Tournament. It had been demonstrated in the same way as well… they had practiced Stunning Spells on each other using cushions.

However, considering that all this was dull and repetitive for Ron, he wasn’t very good at them. At least not as good as Aurors were expected to be. Harry would have been great here, Ron thought gloomily and suddenly wondered if either of his friends was more deserving and talented for this job than he was. They had both taken the tougher path… Harry, of course was unemployed and searching for the horcruxes. He mostly lived off his vast inheritance and would do some odd- jobs now and then while traveling. Hermione had given up everything for the sake of ‘Spew’ and all her knowledge and accomplishment had been pledged towards house- elf liberation. She had considered joining the Ministry as a side option but abandoned it as she wanted her full attention towards S.P.E.W.

Meanwhile Ron had taken up the dream job… the one that Harry had always wanted and qualified for. Ron’s dull and bored mind gathered that he wasn’t even good at it and probably didn’t deserve those 100 Galleons. Harry did because Harry had fought Macnair even before Ron had gotten there…

“Ronald Weasley, would you please step up!” a voice called, snapping him out of his trance. “I would like you to demonstrate how one should resist the Imperius Curse and for that, the first step is to keep your head empty of all emotions” the Senior Auror continued in his reedy voice, unaware that Ron was at the peak of his emotional scales at the moment.

“Now I am going to perform the curse on you and you will have to do what it takes to throw it off, I trust you were paying attention” he warned before raising his wand on Ron.

“IMPERIO!”

Ron’s mind suddenly felt completely empty. He had felt this before, completely devoid of thought and feeling. Every corner of his brain was lax except for a minute region where a small voice was echoing. Ron identified it as his instructor’s voice that seemed to be giving the one single command “Drop your pants”.

For a moment Ron felt his mouth sagging… his own fingers unzipping his trousers… he heard a distant nervous giggling across the room… he could see Sally shaking her head furiously at him, mouthing something he couldn’t understand.

And then, he suddenly knew what was going on… the last folds of his pants were slipping from his fingers, he was letting them go… he hadn’t found any clean underwear that morning… he must be out of his mind to be doing this…

“MERLIN’S PANTS!” Ron screamed, crumbling to the cold floor of the X Room clutching his own trousers. All his team around him was laughing and the room was revolving in his head.

“How much had they seen?” Ron thought wildly, grasping the new emotions flooding his brain.

“Silence! Very good Mr. Weasley, very good! That was an excellent first shot! I’ve had long experience in this career, but have known this particular exercise to sometimes fail. I have also endured many interesting sights as a result of that” the instructor allowed himself a smirk, while Sam helped lift Ron to his feet.

Now completely aware of what had almost happened to him, Ron retreated red-faced behind Sally once more.

“Ron, are you fine? Some day you’re having” Sally said soothingly, while he looked up at the ceiling willing himself to vanish from the spot.

“Nice trick… don’t worry you zipped back up before we saw anything good. Man! That would have worked on anyone” Noel Osborne said patting Ron’s back “although, I wouldn’t mind years in Azkaban if I manage to Imperius you to drop your clothes for me, Sally-babe” he said to Sally, who rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s okay Ron, we’ll get you out of here as soon as the session gets off and head for coffee” she turned to Ron coaxingly “you don’t have to bear what jerks like Osborne have to say about this”.

Ron coughed slightly and continued to stare at the ceiling, wondering how the 100 galleon bonus was really costing him today. He swore to head straight home from work and sleep the rest of this day off before the universe devised some other plan against him.

He walked out briskly from the X Room with his team an hour later, sporting a bloody lip after the next round of training had involved casting defensive hexes at each other. Ron knew that his performance would have been magnificent if he had gotten the opportunity to hex Josh Darlington, but Josh hadn’t showed up at all for the entire session. As he turned at the corner with David who was going on about his fabulous ‘Beehive’ jinx, he ran into the perpetrator.

“Ron can we talk somewhere private?” Josh asked Ron, his amber eyes boring into Ron’s glaring blue ones.

Ron knew that nothing Josh could possibly say would make the day better or worse, perhaps better if he was there to tell him that he and Ginny had broken up.

“No I’m sorry… gotta get patched up” Ron said shortly, pointing to his lip and tried to walk past him.

“It’s about the documents you delivered this morning” Josh insisted.

Ron turned around to face him again and he knew what this was really about.

“Fine then, Darlington”, he thought to himself. If Josh was willing to get himself punched up, Ron was only too ready to do the deed. He followed Josh silently to his cubicle and saw to his immense relief that Ginny had left.

“Ron I didn’t know that Ginny was your sister…” Josh began uncertainly, but Ron cut in icily.

“Oh Really? Why is that? Weasley’s not a very common surname now, is it? And don’t tell me that if you knew she was my sister, you wouldn’t have snogged her anyway!” Ron flexed his wrists to add the effect.

He didn’t care what else the day had in store for him and just wanted to vent out all his feelings at Josh, who seemed to be a ready target.

“No… it’s just that I really adore her and everything she is. And I was hoping that since we already know each other, we could be friends and you could give me some advice on how to ask her out for the Auror’s Ball. What’s her favorite color?” Josh asked Ron mercilessly, with a smile that reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart.

Ron looked speechless at Josh… he was actually asking him for advice on HOW to date his sister… he hadn’t brought Ron here to beg for mercy on bended-knee… it had been for Ron’s blessing. He thought that this was a sick joke Ginny was playing on him. What he absolutely couldn’t imagine was what she going to do about Harry.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help you. My sister and I are not on speaking terms and we never were. I certainly don’t know what her favorite color is. And… and you should go to the X Room and explain why you weren’t there for the training session” Ron retorted with his eyes narrowed at Josh, as though merely the look of him caused him supreme disgust. And thus leaving Josh Darlington thoroughly bewildered, he walked out of the cubicle.

Read Chapter 7: Abyss of Revenge here