Chapter 99 - 99

Chapter Four: The Woes of the Weasleys

After they appeared in the twins' room, the door opened and Hermione appeared.

"Look!" she said happily, showing them a silver and green badge. "A prefect! I just showed Mrs. Weasley. She said she's going to throw a party for me and Ron!"

At the twins uncharacteristically ugly look, Hermione backed out the room with a hasty, "Sorry!"

That evening, the three young men walked down the stairs into the kitchen. There, they found Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, cooking.

"Go to the living room," she told them. "I thought we'd have a little party instead of a sit-down dinner."

They were soon joined by Ron, Neville, Ginny, and Hermione in the living room after Mrs. Weasley went up to fetch them. Before she returned to the kitchen to grab the food, she said, "Your father and Bill are on their way, Ron, I've sent them both owls and they're thrilled."

Fred rolled his eyes.

Lupin, Tonks, and Dung arrived not long after along with a tall, muscled black man and Mad-Eye Moody, who the children only knew because of the impostor impersonating him all school year.

"So glad you came, Alastor," Mrs. Weasley said. "We're having a bit of a celebration." She gestured to a banner that read, Congratulations Ron and Hermione! "Fourth prefect in the family!"

"Prefect, eh?" Moody growled. "Well, congratulations. Authority figures always attract trouble, but I suppose Dumbledore thinks you can withstand most major jinxes or he wouldn't have appointed you…"

Ron looked rather startled at this view of the matter but was saved the trouble of responding by the arrival of his father and eldest brother. Mrs. Weasley was in such a good mood she did not even complain that they had Mundungus with them too; he was wearing a long overcoat that seemed oddly lumpy in places and declined the offer to remove it and put it with Moody's traveling cloak.

"Well, I think a toast is in order," Mr. Weasley said once Tonks and Mrs. Weasley had passed out all of the drinks. He raised his goblet. "To Ron and Hermione, the new school prefects!"

Ron and Hermione beamed as everyone drank to them and then applauded.

"I was never a prefect myself," Tonks said brightly as she moved toward a coffee table that held a few platters of food and plates. "My Head of House said I lacked certain necessary qualities."

"Like what?" asked Ginny, who was choosing a baked potato.

"Like the ability to behave myself," Tonks replied.

Ginny laughed and Hermione looked as though she was unsure whether to smile or not. She compromised by taking a large gulp of butterbeer and choking on it.

"Watch it!" Fred said pleasantly, thumping a spluttering Hermione's back as he walked past.

Ron was rhapsodizing nearby to anyone who would listen, which wasn't a lot of people.

"…naught to seventy in ten seconds, not bad, is it? When you think the Comet Two Ninety's only naught to sixty and that's with a decent tailwind according to Which Broomstick?"

Hermione was talking very earnestly to Lupin about the Ministry.

"I mean, why do they segregate werewolves? It all stems from this horrible thing wizards have of thinking they're superior to other creatures…"

Mrs. Weasley and Bill were having their usual argument about Bill's hair.

"…getting really out of hand, and you're so good looking. It would look much better shorter, wouldn't it, Harish?"

"Oh—I dunno—"

Harish muttered, sidling past her, over to where he had spotted the twins huddled around Mundungus. Mundungus stopped talking when he saw Harish, but Fred said to him, "It's okay, Dung. We can trust Harish, he's our financial backer."

"And partner in crime," George added with a wink. "Look at what Dung's gotten us," he added to Harish. He held out a handful of shriveled black pods. A faint rattling noise was coming from them, even though they were completely stationary.

"Venomous Tentacula seeds. We need them for the Skiving Snackboxes, but you know how they're Class C Non-Tradable Substance so we've been having a bit of trouble finding them. But Dung here, he's found some for us."

"So ten galleons for the lot, then, Dung?"

"Wiv all the trouble I went to, to get 'em?" Mundungus asked, his saggy bloodshot eyes stretching even wider. "I'm sorry lads, but I'm not taking a Knut under twenty."

"Dung likes his little joke," Fred said to Harish.

"Yeah, his best one so far has been six Sickles for a bag of knarl quills," George told him.

"Be careful," Harish warned them quietly.

"What?" Fred asked. "Mum's busy cooing over Prefect Ron, we're okay."

"But Moody could have his eye on you," Harish pointed out.

Dung looked nervously over his shoulder.

"Good point, that," he said. "All right, lads, ten it is if you'll take 'em quick."

Dung emptied his pockets into the twins' outstretched hands and scuttled off toward the food.

"You're welcome," Harish said with a grin.

"Cheers, Harish!" Fred said delightedly. "We'd better get these upstairs…"

Harish followed the two into their room. There, George opened up the cabinet.

"Bag?" Fred asked holding out his hand.

"Bag," he replied, holding out a bag with a flourish.

"Seeds?" Fred asked once again.

"Seeds," George responded, emptying his pockets into the bag. Then Fred did the same.

George then took the no longer empty bag and stored it in the cabinet once again.

"C'mon," Harish said once the cabinet was shut and they began walking back down to the living room.

There, Ron was still going on about his broom to Tonks (who was the only person that still found interest in his broom), and Mrs. Weasley was still exclaiming to people the achievements of her sons (minus the twins, because apparently inventing things weren't achievements).

Hermione and Ginny were talking now. Dung was speaking with Bill and Lupin, Mr. Weasley, and Kingsley were having a deep conversation. Harish saw Neville standing by himself and made his over to the younger boy, but Moody beat him to it.

"I've got something that might interest you," he growled. From an inner pocket he pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph.

Neville looked at it, and in curiousity Harish stepped close enough to see it as well.

"Original Order of the Phoenix," Moody said. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one…thought people might like to see it."

Neville took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back at him.

"There's me," Moody said, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact. "And there's Dumbledore beside, Dedalus Diggle on the other side…That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. And there's your parents!"

Neville's stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at his mother's plump round face. Harish stepped a bit closer to have a look. He noticed very well how much Neville resembled his mother.

"Poor devils," Moody growled. "Better dead than what happened to them…that there's Lupin…Benjy Fenwick; we only ever found bits of him…shift aside there," he started poking the picture and the little people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.

"That's Edgar Bones…brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too…Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young…Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found a body…Hagrid looks the same as ever…Elphias Doge, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat…Gideon Prewett—it took five Death Eaters to take him and Fabian down, they fought like heroes…budge along, budge along…"

The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture.

"That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I met him, strange bloke…Dorcas Meadows, Voldemort killed him personally…Sirius with short hair…and the Potters. They died when Voldemort went after Harry all those years ago…"

When he heard this, Harish tried not to make eye contact with anyone. The only people in that room that knew he was Harry Potter were the Slytherins.

Moody smiled at Neville as though he thought he had just given the boy a treat.

"Thought that would interest you, eh?" he said.

Neville nodded and attempted to smile. Moody then stumped off.

"What was that all about?" Harish asked.

"My Mum and Dad," Neville said. "They were tortured into insanity by three Death Eaters. The Death Eaters wanted to know what happened to You-Know-Who, but my parents wouldn't tell them…They're heroes…"

Not knowing what to say to this, Harish nodded and said, "I never knew my mother. My father never speaks of her. It's too painful for him."

This was partly true, of course. Harish had a feeling that Voldemort was learning to regret some of the things he did when he was younger. The Dark Lord found it too painful to talk to his son about the boy's mother he killed.

"I'm sorry," Neville said, sounding most sincere.

It was a tone that Harish didn't hear often, and it shocked him.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, looking to find the twins.

He found them a few feet away, walking up to Ron.

"Still bragging about that broom, Ronnie?" Fred asked.

"You're just sore that you've never had a new broom," Ron said angrily.

The twins both laughed.

"Us, sore?" George asked. "With the money we're gonna make, we could buy a hundred new brooms!"

"How are you sure that people'll buy stuff from Dark people like you?" Ron retorted.

Both twins' grins slid off and they both said ominously, "Oh, we're sure."

"What's going on here, boys?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bustling over.

"Nothing," the twins both replied casually.

"They keep tormenting me about being a prefect!" Ron cried.

"Boys!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "You know better than that! You're supposed to be the adults now!"

"The adults that are trying to protect ickle Ronnie," George muttered insolently.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Ron asked incredulously.

More people's conversations were stopping as they looked on the impending argument.

"Let's put it this way," Fred said. "We want to make sure you don't become a bigger prat than you already are."

"Positions of power," George continued. "They tend to swell people's heads a bit."

"I'm not a prat!" Ron shouted.

"You know you two could do with listening to your brother," Mrs. Weasley snapped. "You two were never prefects."

"Something we never hear the end of," George muttered darkly.

"You only got six OWL's between the two of you!"

"We don't even need OWL's," Fred mumbled.

"Bill was a prefect! He was Head Boy, even! And look at Charlie—Captain of the Quidditch team! And Percy—"

She cut off at the sight of the twins' faces.

"Yes," George said dangerously. "Even Ultimate Prat Percy is better than us."

"All because we were sorted into Slytherin."

"No!" Mrs. Weasley protested. Everyone in the room were watching the incident now. Every single Weasley had an ugly look plastered on their face, all except Mrs. Weasley who looked mortified. "That's not it at all!"

"I'm sorry to disappoint you all," Fred said darkly. "By George and I's less than standard grades."

"If you'll just excuse us," George said. "We shall go and get ourselves into more trouble."

"As usual."

And they both stormed out of the room. Harish looked around before dashing after them. Mr. Weasley's knuckles were white from clenching his glass of fire whiskey so hard, and it was beginning to crack. There was a moment of silence as everyone didn't know quite what to do, and then Mrs. Weasley burst into tears.

"There, there, Molly," Tonks said quietly, patting her on her back.

"All of this is all my fault!" Mrs. Weasley wailed.

"No, Molly, it's not," Lupin said weakly.

"Yes it is! What if they—they leave too? I just couldn't bear—With Percy gone and all…I'm just s-s-so worried," more tears spilled out of her eyes. "What if something dreadful happens to him and we had never m-m-made up? And what's going to happen if Arthur and I get killed? Who would take care of Ron and Ginny?"

"You think we would just let them starve?" Lupin asked.

"Just being s-s-silly," Mrs. Weasley hiccupped.

Meanwhile, the twins were haphazardly throwing things into their trunks. Harish sat on his bed, already completely packed, watching them grumble and vent. Finally, he spoke up.

"Don't mind her," Harish said. "She doesn't know what she's talking about."

"But—we're on opposite sides of the war," George finally said.

"They're still our family," Fred said.

"What if they get themselves killed and it's our fault?" George asked with pleading eyes.

"I won't let that happen," Harish said.

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