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Meaning of One, Part One: Stone and Fire | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Ron Weasley Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General, Humor Warnings: Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1026 Summary: If two people are deliberately created to be together, how will the challenges in a world of magic and Dark Lords be dealt with? What would it mean for two people to truly become one? A re-imagination of first year. Hitcount: Story Total: 548261; Chapter Total: 26521 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Thanks, as always, to moshpit, Jonathan Avery, regdc, and Chreechree for their invaluable assistance with this story. Part of every review, award, or other praise is thiers. |
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In April, Hermione ploughed headlong into her revision and encouraged her friends to do the same. Harry and Ginny often joined her. At first, it was because they felt badly after seeing Hermione panic over the mass of red her hair had become on April Fools’ Day. Harry and Ginny had returned to the common room that evening to find their friend tugging helplessly at one of her crimson curls. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her cheeks were stained with dried tears. “Hermione, are you alright?” Ginny whispered. “No! My stupid hair is all red, and I don’t know how to fix it!” “It’ll wear off in a few hours, Hermione, but here . . .” Harry pulled his practice Knut out of his pocket and once again cast the colour-changing charm on the tiny brass disc. He placed it gently on the table in front of Hermione. “There you are. Give it a tap, and your hair will go right back to normal.” Hermione lunged forward and slapped her palm down on the Knut. Her hair turned brown immediately, and she sighed in relief as she collapsed back into her chair. “We’re sorry, Hermione,” Ginny said. “We didn’t mean to upset you.” Hermione took a few deep breaths and then said, “It’s not your fault. I just . . . two years ago, a boy in my school put chewing gum in my hair. He thought it was terribly funny. My mother had to cut out part of my hair to get rid of the gum, and the stupid boy thought that was even funnier. So then, of course, he did it again, and the same day he persuaded two other boys to do it, too.” She closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose tightly. “We had to cut off most of my hair, and it’s only just grown back,” Hermione said at last. “When it turned red, I was afraid that . . . that I would never be able to make it brown again.” “Honestly, Hermione, the charm wears off in two or three hours,” Harry said. “But if we’d known, we’d have made sure it didn’t get you.” “You’re positive that it wears off?” “Absolutely,” Harry replied. “My hair’s red, right? By bedtime it will be black again. I had the charm on a few times over Christmas break.” Hermione turned her head to look around the common room. Following her gaze, Harry and Ginny saw dozens of red-haired students. Some of them, like Lee Jordan, looked decidedly odd, but none of them seemed terribly concerned about the colour of their hair. As she looked, Harry saw a smile creep across Hermione’s face. “It is rather funny, isn’t it?” she asked. “We certainly hope so,” Ginny said. “Well . . .” Hermione reached out and, with a deliberate motion, tapped the Knut again. Her hair flashed to Weasley red, and she pulled a small hand mirror out of her bag. “I don’t look too bad, do I?” she asked, peering at her reflection. “Not bad at all. You look loads better than Parvati,” Ginny giggled, gesturing at their olive-skinned roommate. Hermione stifled a laugh with her hand. “Alright. It won’t hurt anything to play along for a few hours.” She picked up the Knut and looked over at Harry. “Can I keep this, Harry? There aren’t many things I can show my parents, but they’ll adore this.” “Of course, Hermione,” Harry replied. “If you want, we can teach you the spell, too.” “I’d like that,” Hermione said. “But perhaps later. I need to finish my reading, and you . . . well, perhaps you’d consider showering soon? You’re a bit, err . . . fragrant.” Harry and Ginny nodded, grinning widely, and climbed up to their respective dormitories to get clean. After the first day of intense, guilt-driven revision in the library, Harry and Ginny continued studying with Hermione. The extra revision would be good for their grades, they decided, and the near-silence of the library hardly stopped them from talking if they needed a break. All they really had to do, they discovered, was keep their eyes on their books while they talked, joked, or explored their own memories. Aside from that, though, they did actually manage quite a bit of revision. When Neville was not ensconced in the greenhouses, he joined them in the library. He revised a bit each day, but he made no pretense once he got bored. By the end of an evening, he would inevitably have his nose buried in diagrams and explanations about rare magical plants. Ron joined the group about half the time they invited him. On those evenings, he revised and did his homework grudgingly. On other occasions, Harry and Ginny assumed that he played games or otherwise relaxed with Dean and Seamus. On the second Saturday of April, Hermione persuaded the entire group to spend two hours of the afternoon revising before pursuing their usual weekend distractions. The five first years gathered at a table along one wall of the library, reading their textbooks in silence. Halfway through the time they had allotted themselves, Harry looked up and spotted Hagrid walking along the ends of the shelves with his hands behind his back. Ginny thought their giant friend was trying to be subtle, or perhaps even sneaky, but the effect was ruined by his sheer size. As he walked, Hagrid’s hip collided with an empty table. A shrill screech echoed through the library as the table slid across the stone floor. Hagrid spun in place to put the table back, and as he turned, Harry and Ginny saw the books he had been trying to conceal. “Hagrid . . .” Ginny began. She was interrupted when Madam Pince swooped down on the group, seeking the source of the disturbance in her domain. “Who is making that terrible racket?” Pince demanded. Her voice was quiet but somehow still intense and sharp. “Sorry, Madam Pince,” Hagrid said. “It was jus’ me.” “And what are you doing in my library, Mr. Hagrid?” “Ahh, well, you know . . . lookin’ a’ a couple o’ books on . . . err, summat.” Pince’s eyes narrowed. “Do you intend to borrow any books, then?” Her tone made it clear that she disapproved of any such plan. “Ahh, no,” Hagrid said. “No, I was jus’ puttin’ ‘em back, righ’.” “In their proper places, I hope?” “Oh, yes, Madam. Ever’ book in th’ proper place.” The librarian sniffed. “Do be careful, Mr. Hagrid. We do not need any disruptions here.” Hagrid nodded his shaggy head enthusiastically, and Madam Pince walked back to her counter with one last suspicious look over her shoulder. “Hagrid,” Ginny started again, “why have you got books about dragons?” “Why have you got books about rearing dragons?” Harry asked as they realised the theme of the books. Hagrid backed up against the end of a long bookshelf, trapping his hands and the books between the shelf and his back. “Oh, well. Y’kno’. Bit o’ studyin’, tha’s all. Lovely critters, dragons. Fun to know a l’il bit abou’.” Ginny noticed the groundskeeper’s nervous looks, and the fidgeting of a ten-foot-tall man was very hard to miss. Suddenly, she knew the answer. “You’ve got an egg, haven’t you?” she whispered. “An egg!” Hermione exclaimed quietly. “Hagrid, you can’t raise a dragon. It’s illegal.” “Unless you’re on one of the reserves, like Charlie,” Ron added. “Why would you want to raise a dragon, anyway?” Neville asked. Hagrid put his hands in front of him, gesturing rapidly for quiet and forgetting that he still held the incriminating volumes. “Hush up now, all o’ you. Don’t go yellin’ abou’ it.” He glanced around to make sure no one was in sight, and then he grinned happily. “C’m’ down to my place, and I’ll show you, but you can’t say nowt to anyone, alrigh’?” As one, the other four students all looked expectantly at Hermione. The older girl was clearly curious but hesitant to be involved with something so potentially dangerous. At last, she nodded. “Oh, alright.” Curiosity wins every time with her, doesn’t it? Harry asked. Seems like. I’m sure there’s some limit to it, but I can’t imagine what it is. The first-years packed up their bags, and Hagrid turned to return his books to their shelves. “Did you want to borrow those books, Hagrid?” Ginny asked. “Well, yeah, I did. But Madam Pince don’ like me borrowin’ books much. Reckons I wrinkle the pages up too much or summat.” Wordlessly, Ginny pulled the three books out of Hagrid’s hand and carried them up to the librarian’s desk. “Madam Pince,” she said with her most innocent look, “may I borrow these books, please?” The sharp-faced woman took the books from her hands and glanced at the titles. “Why are you reading about raising dragons, Miss Weasley? That is hardly first-year material.” “No, Madam, it’s not,” Ginny said, widening her eyes and smiling brightly. “But, you see, my brother Charlie raises dragons on this reserve in Romania, high up in the Carpathians, and he tells all these wonderful stories about all the dragons there, and how sometimes they have eggs and sometimes Charlie gets to see the baby dragons hatch and learn to fly and everything. He said that someday if I was good I could visit, and maybe there would be eggs, and if I was lucky I would get to see a baby dragon.” Back at the table with their friends, Harry lost control and started laughing. He quickly covered it with a cough, but Ron and Hermione looked at him oddly anyway. Fortunately, Hagrid and Neville did not seem to notice his mirth. “Mostly they hatch at night,” Ginny continued without pause. “But Charlie said he’d wake me up and I could see, even if it’s past my bedtime. You can’t get too close, because the mother dragons don’t want anyone at all near their eggs or their babies, but the people there have these things called binculars that let them see things a long way off. Charlie said one time he saw a wild Fwooper with his binculars, but I think he just saw some Muggle bird and made up the Fwooper to tell people about it and make it seem scary.” At last, Ginny stopped and beamed at the librarian, hiding the fact that she was completely out of breath. “Yes, well,” Pince said, blinking rapidly. “I see.” She quickly recorded the titles of the books in her ledger and then pushed them into Ginny’s hands. “Take good care of these books, Miss Weasley. Run along, now.” “Thank you, Madam Pince,” Ginny said. She cradled the books carefully against her chest and walked back to the table. That was brilliant! Harry said. Pince is easy, Ginny replied. She rounded the end of the shelves and handed the books back to Hagrid. “Here you are, Hagrid. Borrowed for three weeks. You’ll have them back before they’re due, won’t you?” “O’ course I will. Never you min’ wha’ ol’ Pince says, I take good care o’ books. Ta very much, l’il Ginny. Right decent of you.” “You’re welcome, Hagrid.” “An’ who’s this here, then?” the groundskeeper asked, looking at Neville. “Oh, this is our friend Neville Longbottom,” Ginny said. “Neville, this is Hagrid.” “Hello, Mr. Hagrid,” Neville said. “None o’ tha’, now,” Hagrid rumbled. “Jus’ Hagrid is righ’ fer me. Longbottom, is it?” Neville nodded. “Good folk, Longbottoms. Never doubt it.” The five students followed Hagrid out of the library, through the halls, and out onto the lawn. The first-years had not stopped to drop off their book bags, and Hermione in particular strained a bit under the weight of several large books she had not planned to carry across the grounds. “’Ere, now,” Hagrid said. “There’s no need for tha’.” He reached out and plucked Hermione and Ginny’s bags from their shoulders, holding the straps in one fist and hardly seeming to notice the extra weight. “Thank you so much, Hagrid,” Hermione said, rolling her shoulders. “Anytime, Hermi’ne. Yer made fer knowin’ th’ books, not fer carryin’ ‘em places.” I suppose I am made for carrying them, then, Harry said with a grin. Of course. Hagrid has excellent judgment about these things, wouldn’t you say? The groundskeeper pushed open the door of his hut and reached down to hold back an enthusiastic boarhound. “Don’ you mind ol’ Fang, ‘e’s just righ’ glad ter see you lot again.” A few minutes later, they were all seated on oversized benches around Hagrid’s table while he prodded something in the coals of his fire. Fang had inspected each member of the group before deciding to rest his chin on Hermione’s lap. She scratched his long ears absently as she tried to peer around Hagrid’s bulk. Finally, the gigantic man backed away from the fire and gestured into the coals with a poker. “’Ere it is, then.” With Hagrid out of the way, they could see a large black egg nestled in the glowing coals. “It’s . . . err . . . lovely, Hagrid,” Ginny said. “D’you know what kind it is?” Ron asked. “Norwegian Ridgeback, I reckon,” Hagrid said proudly. “They’re righ’ rare, they are, and jus’ plain beau’iful.” Hagrid spent the next twenty minutes happily listing all the virtues of dragons in general and his dragon in particular. He only stopped when Neville rose timidly to his feet. “I’m sorry, Hagrid, but I told Professor Sprout that I would meet her in the greenhouses this afternoon,” he said. “An’ here’s me jus’ babblin’ along wi’out a care in th’ world,” Hagrid said, shaking his head. “Go on, then, Neville, an’ come back anytime you want.” Neville said his goodbyes and left for the greenhouses. As the door closed behind him, Hagrid turned to the others. “Strong lad, that one. Glad to see he’s friends with you lot.” “What do you mean, Hagrid?” Hermione asked softly. The big man shook his head. “Jus’ what I said, Hermi’ne. Don’ underestimate a Longbottom, hear?” The students nodded cautiously. “Righ’ then. Who wants more tea?” “Err, Hagrid,” Ginny said. “What do you plan to do with your dragon once he’s hatched?” “Well, raise him up, o’ course! Bet he’ll like playin’ in th’ lake. Maybe make friends with the squid, and we could all go swimmin’. Be alrigh’, wouldn’t it?” “Or you could use him to help guard the Philosopher’s Stone,” Ron offered. Hagrid dropped his teacup noisily onto his saucer. “’Ere, now. Yer not supposed to know ‘bout tha’, an’ I didn’ tell you . . . did I?” “We figured it out for ourselves, Hagrid,” Harry said. “It wasn’t too hard once we found out who Nicholas Flamel was.” “Shoulda reckoned you lot would dig tha’ up,” Hagrid muttered. “But you can’t go ‘round tellin’ anyone, alrigh’?” “Of course not,” Hermione said seriously. “I just hope Fluffy is enough protection for it. It seems like it would be awfully valuable, and he’s only one dog, after all.” “Oh, Fluffy’s enough, I’d say. But even so, there’s other stuff in th’ way an’ all.” Hagrid caught himself and shook his head. “There I go agin, sayin’ stuff wha’ I shouldn’t.” “What other things?” Ginny asked. Hagrid sighed. “I’m no’ tellin’ you tha’. It’s bad enough you lot know abou’ it at all. But most of the professors helped ou’ with the guardin’ and such, so you can rest easy tha’ it’s safe from anyone wha’ wants it. No need to get my dragon involved at all.” Harry accepted that Hagrid was not going to say anything else about the Philosopher’s Stone. “Really, Hagrid. What are you going to do with him? Your house is too small for a dragon.” “Well, yeah, later on. But he can be righ’ cozy here while he’s little, can’t he?” “But Hagrid, your house is made of wood,” Hermione said. Hagrid waved off her objection as inconsequential and went over to stir the coals around his precious egg. If he tries to keep that dragon, he’ll end up burning down his house and probably half the castle with it, Harry said. We can’t tell him that, though, Ginny said. He’d be heartbroken. “Hagrid,” Ginny began carefully, “maybe I could write to Charlie. I’m sure he knows more about raising dragons than you can find in a book, and you know he wouldn’t tell anyone you’ve got an egg. He could give you some advice.” “You reckon?” Hagrid asked, his eyes brightening with eagerness. “Tha’d be righ’ nice o’ you, Ginny. None better’n Charlie to help ou’ wi’ raisin’ a dragon.” That evening, Ginny wrote Charlie a long letter, explaining the situation and asking for advice about how to keep Hagrid from doing serious damage to the school. She and Harry were firmly convinced that there would be no way to keep a dragon at Hogwarts, but they could not see how to tell Hagrid that without hurting his feelings. They sent Hedwig off to Rumania and asked her to hurry as best as she could. On Wednesday, the snowy owl returned with a hastily scribbled note. Ginny & Harry,As Ginny read the letter, Harry offered Hedwig a piece of bacon from his plate. “Brilliant, Hedwig. Really well done.” Hedwig accepted his bacon daintily and preened proudly for a moment before flying off to consume her breakfast. Two days later, just after the students began eating dinner, the doors of the Great Hall swung open forcefully. Automatically, Ginny glanced up at the High Table, but Snape was already seated. I guess someone else likes a grand entrance, too, Harry said. The doors came to rest, fully open, and Charlie Weasley strode through the centre of the opening. Ginny’s brother wore his work clothes, which consisted of a scorched black leather vest, matching trousers, and rugged leather boots and gloves. He wore a heavy cloak over it all, and he carried a battered knapsack. The muscles of his shoulders and arms stood out clearly, and more than one older witch’s head turned to follow his straight backed form as he walked up the aisle towards the high table. As he passed Harry and Ginny, he gave Ginny a brief wink before turning back to the professors. Yup, that’s Charlie. I hate to think that he has anything in common with Snape, but at least he does it better. Charlie stopped in front of Dumbledore. “Good evening, Mr. Weasley,” the Headmaster said. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to our humble school?” The older Weasley’s baritone carried easily in the hall. “Humble, is it? I’d hate to see what you call grand, Headmaster.” Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head. “I happened to be in the area on business, and I thought I might stop by and see my younger siblings. There’s quite a collection of them here, I heard. Five, six . . . I lost count.” Harry beamed, knowing with Ginny that Charlie would never say something like that casually. “We do seem to have a few,” Dumbledore agreed, “and their effect seems to multiply as more of them arrive. Would you like to join us for dinner?” “I thought you’d never ask,” Charlie said, smiling. “Thank you very much. I’ll be on my way by curfew, if that’s alright with you.” “Certainly,” Dumbledore said. Charlie nodded once, turned, and walked down the aisle to the far side of the Gryffindor table. As he approached, Ginny and Neville scooted apart to make room for him, and the twins stood up from their places to take seats on either side of Ron and Hermione. Charlie dropped his bag beneath the table and took the open seat, and then he put an arm around Ginny and squeezed her tightly to his side. “Ugh, Charlie! You smell,” she protested. “Great to see you, too, Gin,” he answered. “What are you doing here, Charlie?” Fred asked. “Like I said, I came to see you lot,” he said, glancing at Harry to include him in the group. “Came to see Ginny, is what he means,” George said. “Chopped liver, we are,” Fred added. “Hey, some people like chopped liver,” Harry said. “Nobody I know, of course, but there’s bound to be someone.” “Speaking of which, where’s our prefect?” Charlie asked. “We’ll get into trouble if we don’t have a prefect around.” “Hermione? She’s right here,” Ron said, hooking a thumb at the girl next to him. The other students laughed as Hermione lowered her eyes, but the brunette was blushing and smiling, too. “You’re Hermione Granger?” Charlie asked in a lower, more serious voice. Hermione nodded, and Charlie reached a hand across the table. “I’m very glad to meet you, Hermione. Any good friend of Ron and Ginny-and-Harry is a good friend of mine.” Hermione looked up and reached out to shake Charlie’s hand. “I’m happy to meet you, too, Charlie. They’ve told me wonderful things about you,” she said with a smile. “All lies, I assure you,” he replied with a wink. Ginny elbowed her brother sharply to get his attention again. “Charlie, this is our friend Neville Longbottom. Neville, this is my brother Charlie. He’s second of the lot of us.” “And with him as second, it’s a wonder any of the rest of us are around,” Fred interrupted and then ducked Charlie’s half-hearted swing. Rolling his eyes at Fred, Charlie turned to Neville. “Hello, Neville.” “Hello, Charlie. Nice to meet you,” Neville said. Charlie nodded and craned his head to look up the table. “Oi, Percy!” he called. “Come on down here and be family.” He’s a bit different than he was at the Burrow, isn’t he? Harry asked. Yeah. Get him away from Bill, and he gets a bit louder. I’m not sure which way he prefers, but he seems happy with both. Percy looked up from his dinner at the Prefect’s section of the table and scowled for a moment, but he put his fork carefully on his plate and brought it with him as he walked down the table. He sat next to Harry and looked at his older brother over the heads of Harry and Ginny. “Good evening, Charles. I trust you’re well.” “Yes, I’m well, and I’m doing alright, too. How about you? OWL revision going smoothly?” “Yes, it is,” Percy said, looking faintly surprised. “I have high hopes for exceptional marks.” “Well, if any of us can get those marks, it’s you,” Charlie said. “Bill got twelve, and I’ve bet two Galleons with him that you will, too.” He shifted his gaze to look at Harry. “Been a few months, Harry. Still staying on a broom?” The Gryffindors sitting nearby chuckled at the apparent joke. “Yeah, doing alright,” he said. “Keeping in a straight line, learning how to stop and go . . . you know how it is. I hear that there’s this weird practise called Quidditch, and I might like to try that.” The students laughed aloud this time, and Charlie grinned. “Ginny told me about that last match you played. Makes me wish I could be a student again and regain some of my pride.” “I was lucky, really,” Harry said with a shrug. “The Snitch tried a trick I’d seen recently.” “Lots of lessons from that game, then,” Charlie agreed. The collected Weasleys, plus Harry and Hermione, spent the meal catching up. Neville seemed content to listen in and contribute a bit, but on more than one occasion Harry thought that his friend was overwhelmed by Charlie’s forceful personality. The twins regaled the entire table with the tale of the birthday prank they had pulled, but they conveniently left out the parts about being pranked themselves and having help with turning everyone’s hair red. Ginny and Harry were just as happy they did not figure into the story, but the smirk on Charlie’s face told them that he suspected the truth. When the other students began leaving the hall, Charlie drained his goblet and looked around at the group. “I think I might take a walk around the grounds. See the old sights and all that. Anyone fancy joining me?” Ron, the twins, Ginny, and Harry all nodded immediately, but Hermione looked hesitant. “Oh, well, I’ll just go up to the Tower. I don’t want to impose . . .” “Nonsense!” Charlie said before Ginny could reply. “With a family as big as ours, one or two or ten more doesn’t matter at all. Come along.” Hermione nodded, a shy smile creeping across her face. “I appreciate the invitation, Charles,” Percy said, “but I do have several subjects I must cover tonight in my revision.” “Ah, well,” Charlie said. “Good luck with that. If I don’t see you again tonight, it was nice catching up.” “Yes, thank you. I enjoyed it also.” With that, Percy nodded to his brothers and sister and then marched out of the hall. “Stiff as a board, that one,” Charlie muttered to Ginny. She rolled her eyes. “That’s the nicest he’s been in months.” Charlie sighed. “Too bad.” Neville leaned behind Charlie’s back and caught Ginny’s eye. Wordlessly, he raised his eyebrows in question. She smiled and nodded, and he nodded his thanks in return. The remaining five Weasleys and their three friends walked down the length of the Great Hall. Harry and Ginny were not surprised to hear Malfoy’s voice raised above the din as they passed his seat. “They’ll let anyone in here these days, I suppose. Even those who aren’t even suited to scrubbing the floors,” the Slytherin sneered. Grinning slightly, Charlie stopped in his tracks and turned to face the blond boy. His expression shifted to one of exaggerated thoughtful concern, and he nodded. “Wow, Malfoy. It’s so great to see you finally accepting your own limitations. The sooner you come to terms with how inferior you really are, the happier you’ll really be. Have you talked to Filch? He might be looking for an apprentice.” Malfoy spluttered for a moment, his face reddening and his hands clenching on the table in front of him. Before he recovered, Charlie smiled and led his family and friends out of the Great Hall. “That was priceless!” Ron said. Charlie snorted. “There’s one of him in every crowd. We’ve even got one who managed to get a job at the dragon reserve. They can never take offensive remarks as well as they dish them out, and I couldn’t pass up an opportunity like that one.” A few minutes later, all five Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were strolling across the grounds between the castle and the Quidditch pitch. Charlie led them inside the pitch itself and up to the Gryffindor stands, where they all sat in a loose group. “Now, is there anything new I should know about this dragon of Hagrid’s?” Charlie asked. “Dragon?” George asked incredulously. “Hagrid’s got a dragon?” “If I’ve got the timing right, he’s got a dragon egg for about another week.” “That’s what Hagrid says, too,” Harry said. Charlie nodded. “Say what you will, but Hagrid knows his beasts.” “What are you going to do, Charlie?” Ginny asked. “There’s no way he can hide a dragon here.” “You’re right, Gin. After a week, that dragon will be too big and too dangerous even for Hagrid. So, if all goes well, I’ll be taking the egg back with me tonight.” “Really? Your boss will let you just bring another dragon to the reserve?” “Let me?” Charlie scoffed. “Once he heard about it, he insisted. It’s rare to find a Ridgeback egg at all, much less one that could be from a bloodline we don’t already have. I’d have been here the same day I got your letter, but we had to do some paperwork and make room for a new orphan. That’s done, and now everyone back there is just waiting for me to show up with the prize.” “But how are you going to get Hagrid to let you take it?” Hermione asked, her former shyness forgotten in the conversation. “That’s the rough part, isn’t it?” Charlie shook his head. “The best I can do is appeal to his better judgment. Never mind the damage to the castle and forest . . . that dragon would be miserable here. After a few months, he’d leave, and Hagrid would never see him again. Then he’d be on his own, hundreds of miles from the nearest Ridgeback, and making problems for the Ministry. Charlie stopped to run his hands through his hair in anticipation of the talk he would soon be having. “I think it’ll work, but Hagrid won’t be too happy about it. I brought him some firewhiskey in case he needs it.” “You won’t give it to him until after he’s agreed to let you take the egg, though, right?” Hermione asked. Charlie nodded at her with a slight smile. “Right, Hermione. I wouldn’t do anything like that, especially not to Hagrid.” She looked apologetic, but she held Charlie’s gaze. “I’m sorry, but I had to be sure.” “’Course you did. I’d do the same in your place.” “I can’t believe Hagrid’s got a dragon egg, and we didn’t know about it,” Fred complained. “Sorry, Fred,” Ginny said. “We couldn’t take a chance on anyone overhearing us, and it’s only been a few days since we found out. We didn’t mean to leave you out.” George waved his hand airily. “Oh, that’s no matter. But think of all the fun we could have had tormenting Hagrid. He can take a joke, Hagrid can.” “So long as it’s the right sort of joke,” Neville offered quietly. “Well, yeah,” Fred agreed. “Making the wrong sort of joke is just unprofessional. A real career-killer.” “Never mind that it’s likely to get you in trouble,” Harry said. “That, too.” “Well, lads and lasses,” Charlie said, rising to his feet. “I’d better get started with Hagrid. Who knows how long it’ll take to convince him, and then I’ve got to watch him drink until he falls asleep. Big as he is, that’ll take a while.” “It was great to see you, Charlie,” Fred said. “Makes for a nice change of pace,” George agreed. “Yeah, you too,” Charlie said. “Not too many red-haired lunatics in Romania.” “Just one, eh Charlie?” Harry asked with a grin. Charlie laughed loudly and clapped him on the shoulder. “Too right, Harry. Maybe one is all they can handle.” Ginny stood on the next higher bench to hug her brother around his shoulders instead of his waist. “Thanks for coming, Charlie,” she whispered. “Anytime, Gin. You two just ask,” he replied just as quietly. As he released her, Ginny felt him slip a note into the pocket of her robes. She and Harry ignored it, knowing Charlie intended them to see it privately. “It was nice to meet you, Charlie,” Hermione said. “Pleasure was mine, Hermione,” he replied with a grin. “You’ve got a tough job, keeping up with this lot, but they tell me you’re smarter than all of them put together, so I suppose you’re the right person for it.” She smiled and ducked her head again while Neville said a polite goodbye. Then they all climbed back down to the ground, and Charlie set out for Hagrid’s cabin while the students walked to the castle. When Ginny and Harry got to the Tower, she excused herself to go to the lavatory, where she opened Charlie’s note in privacy. Care for a fly? Eleven o’clock on the pitch. Don’t get caught.Harry was sitting downstairs at a table with Ron and Hermione, and the three of them spread out their books to continue revising with varying levels of enthusiasm. How does he know we can get there? he asked. We didn’t tell him about the cloak. He probably thinks we’ll just transport directly onto the pitch. Except that we don’t remember it well enough, and we don’t know exactly where he is, Harry pointed out. Ginny nodded. Right, but he hasn’t thought of that. Doesn’t matter, I suppose. It still won’t be terribly difficult. They spent the evening revising and talking to their friends as usual. Ron told Hermione and Neville stories he had heard about Charlie’s days at Hogwarts, and Ginny thought that almost half of them were true. They went to bed at their usual time, but neither of them changed into their pajamas. Instead, they waited with their cloaks on Harry’s bed, listening to the other boys fall asleep around them and hoping that Charlie had been successful with Hagrid. Finally, at eleven, Harry slipped out of his bed and over to the window. The moon was full, so he could easily see the Quidditch pitch from his window as Ginny wrapped herself in the Invisibility Cloak. They transported her to the entrance to the tunnel that led through the structure to the pitch itself. Harry got back into his bed and when she reached her destination, he joined her there. Ginny held the cloak open for him. Let’s try to surprise Charlie, if he’s already out there, she said. Grinning, he nodded and ducked beneath the shimmering fabric. Emerging from the tunnel onto the grass, they spotted Charlie sitting against the wall with his bulging knapsack nearby. In front of him, his lit wand was pushed handle-first into the turf of the pitch, lighting the grass around him for several feet. Quickly and quietly, Harry and Ginny backpedaled into the tunnel and rearranged the cloak so that both of their heads poked through the broad neck, with Harry standing behind Ginny. The hood was large enough to cover both of their heads. How is it that we end up sharing hats so much? How many hats can there be that are big enough? Ginny asked with a smile. Two or more, apparently. Covered again, they crept out in front of Charlie. He must have heard them, because his eyes narrowed, and his head turned towards them. Then, as they took another step and entered the circle of his wand’s light, Charlie’s gaze flicked to their feet, where the grass was crushed flat in four shoe-shaped patches. “How’d you manage that?” he asked softly. Not surprised by her brother’s perception, Ginny reached up to push back the hood. “Invisibility Cloak,” she said. Charlie started and blinked at the sight of two disembodied heads in front of him. “That’s creepy, you know. Where’d you get it?” “Someone left it for me at Christmas,” Harry said, pulling the cloak off of them both. “We think it was Dumbledore. The note said it used to belong to my dad.” Charlie smiled crookedly. “Nothing is safe, now.” “You got the egg?” Ginny asked. “Yeah. He was upset about it, though. Bawled like a half-ton baby. But he knew it was the right thing to do, and he agreed before too long. He only made me promise to name it Norbert, if it’s male, or Winifred, if it’s female.” “Norbert? Winifred? What kind of names are those for a dragon?” Harry asked. “Doesn’t really matter,” Charlie said. “The dragons don’t seem to notice what we call them, but they do need names for us to use, so Norbert or Winifred is as good as any. Anyway, I spent the last two hours pretending to sip firewhiskey while Hagrid drowned his sorrows.” Charlie shook his head. “Don’t go banging on his door before noon tomorrow, okay?” “We weren’t planning on it,” Harry said. He looked down at the innocent knapsack next to Charlie’s knee. “Is the egg okay in there?” “Sure is. It doesn’t look like much, but we charmed this bag to be warm enough for the egg, even this far north. Makes it awkward to carry, but I only have to hold on to it long enough to apparate a few times.” Charlie retrieved his wand and extinguished its light as he clambered to his feet and stretched. “So, did you bring brooms in some other rare magical artifact?” “No, we haven’t found one for that yet,” Ginny said with a laugh. “It was easier to come here first and then get the brooms.” “How so?” Charlie wondered. Harry grinned. “Come and see.” With Charlie following, they went back down the tunnel to the outer wall of the pitch. Ginny put the Invisibility Cloak on again, and Harry crept towards the end of the tunnel until he could see the door of the broom shed. With a soft rush of air, Ginny transported there. Still invisible, she pulled the door open and slipped inside, pulling it closed behind her. She grabbed the twins’ brooms, and then they moved her back to the tunnel next to Harry. Charlie jumped again when two broomsticks appeared, apparently floating in midair. Harry took them from Ginny’s hands, and she took off the cloak and folded it over her arm. Charlie laughed to himself and shook his head as Ginny smiled at him. “I’m still not used to that. Any more tricks I should know about?” he asked. “Loads,” Ginny said with a nod and a small smirk. “But we’d rather fly.” “Alright, then. What do we need to do?” “Well,” Harry said as they walked back to the pitch, “we can fly around the pitch separately for as long as we want with one of us going straight while the other turns. We just have to make sure we stay at the same height and don’t go too fast. We’ve started trying to fly up and down, but we still have to stop every minute or two when we do that.” “Let’s keep trying, then,” Charlie said. “Can I ride with you, Gin?” Ginny nodded, and she and Charlie climbed onto one of the brooms. Harry mounted the other, and they all set off on a slow lap around the pitch, two yards above the ground. Once they had settled, Harry began slowly rising and falling, going as high as the top of the stands before dipping back down to Ginny’s path. They kept the same speed, but after a minute they got dizzy and Charlie took over flying Ginny’s broom. Harry leveled out, and they focused on keeping him in the air. When he was steady again, he resumed his rippling flight, and Ginny flew her own broom again. By midnight, they had made some progress. It was not a major step forward, but Harry and Ginny agreed that it was much more than they would have managed on their own. “Thanks, Charlie,” she said. “We do a lot better with help than by ourselves.” “Why don’t you ask Ron or the twins to help you, then?” he asked. She shrugged. “We’re not in a big hurry, and they’re always doing something else here at school. Plus, it would be odd for more than the two of us to disappear together for very long.” “Well, maybe you can get more help this summer, then.” “We hope so,” Ginny said. “Come on, I’ll walk you back up to the tower,” Charlie said, picking up his knapsack by the straps and being careful not to let it brush against his leg. “Cloak or no cloak, it’s the middle of the night.” “I think we can make it back by ourselves,” Ginny said, even though she and Harry knew that the walk was only an excuse for the three of them to spend a few more minutes together. Charlie shrugged. “Of course you can, but every now and then I like to behave as though I’m a good big brother. So humour me, okay?” In other words, he’s feeling protective. You know they’re all wrapped around your finger, Harry said. Of course they’re protective. They? Okay, fine. He grinned. We. You don’t mind all that much, though. Only because you’re all so sincere about it, she replied. Someday, it might get really old, though. I’ll know, at least. But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop, does it? Will you? They each shrugged in response. “Can we go now, or should I put this egg down while you two stare at each other a bit longer?” Charlie asked. “Sorry, Charlie,” Harry said. “Let’s go.” Harry and Ginny reversed their previous trick to put the brooms back in the shed, and then Harry crawled underneath the cloak with her. They walked across the lawn with Charlie in the silvery light of the moon, beginning to yawn from the long night and the extra exercise. They walked in silence for a few moments until Charlie spoke again. “How are things really going for you here?” he whispered. “Not too horribly, I guess,” Ginny said. “Snape is still a git, as always, and Malfoy’s a spoiled bastard, but generally we’re having a good time.” “Having a good time, is it? Dad told me about that stunt you pulled on the twins.” Harry and Ginny grinned. “You’re just sad that you missed their expressions,” Harry said. “Well, yeah, that too,” Charlie said as he pulled open the main doors. He casually held the doors open just long enough for Harry and Ginny to enter the castle. They started up the stairs to Gryffindor tower, with Charlie taking the steps slowly and allowing the shorter students to keep up. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the gaping hole in the twins’ story, either,” Charlie said with a smirk. “How could they possibly have charmed the flagstones in the middle of the Great Hall when they decided to pull a prank after dinner had started? Someone who could become invisible, though . . .” Ginny giggled softly. “That would make it easier, wouldn’t it?” “Now that I wish I could have seen,” her brother said. “Snape with Weasley hair? Priceless. Was it still greasy?” “Yup,” Harry said. “It’s not a good look for anyone in your family, trust me.” “Guess I’ll have to keep washing my hair, then,” Charlie said with a sigh. “You could always just shave it all off,” Harry suggested. Charlie snorted. “I may not be as fond of my hair as Ginny is of hers, but I’d rather not look like an egg with freckles, thanks.” As Ginny and Harry laughed quietly at that image, the three rounded a corner and came face-to-face with Professors McGonagall and Vector. The two first-years, still under the Invisibility Cloak, froze in place and tried not to breathe. Charlie stopped abruptly and faced the two women, who were staring at him in surprise, confusion, and a bit of suspicion. McGonagall’s eyes narrowed. “Good evening, Mr. Weasley. I did not expect to encounter you while on patrol this evening. Weren’t you planning to leave before curfew?” “Ahh . . . yes, Professor. That’s right,” Charlie stammered, his eyes shifting as he spoke. “I ended up talking with Hagrid all night, you see, and . . . err . . . I had to . . .” Charlie’s eyes strayed down the hallway the two professors had come from, and his face lit as he pointed to a doorway nearby. “I had to use the toilet. The folks at the international apparition points don’t appreciate everyone asking to use theirs, you know, so I thought I’d come back up to the castle before I left.” Ugh, Harry said. I guess not everyone in your family can lie as well as you and the twins can. Charlie and Ron are horrible at it, Ginny agreed. And Percy . . . well, I’m not sure it’s ever occurred to him to try. “Are you aware that that is a girls’ lavatory, Mr. Weasley?” McGonagall asked, arching an eyebrow. “Well, err . . . yes,” Charlie said. “It’s the middle of the night, see, and I . . . well, I always heard that the girls’ lavs were nicer than the boys’. So, well . . .” he trailed off and shrugged. Professor Vector, who had been toying with an errant lock of hair, grinned slightly but said nothing. McGonagall nodded slowly, but her skeptical look did not waver. “I see. And to whom were you speaking a moment ago?” We’re dead. “Well, myself, actually.” Apparently Charlie had managed to think of this part ahead of time. He looked down at the floor and scuffed his toe loudly. “Had a touch of firewhiskey with Hagrid, you see. That’s why I was headed for the toilet.” “So, to summarise,” Vector said, holding up her hand and ticking off points on her fingers as her grin grew broader, “you are inebriated, and you came to the castle to find a lavatory. Instead of using one on the ground floor, you climbed several flights of stairs and decided to investigate the girls’ room. Along the way, you’ve been talking to yourself and apparently finding yourself quite entertaining. Yes?” Charlie clearly knew how ridiculous his story sounded, but he threw a cocky grin at the Arithmancy professor and stuck to it anyway. “Yes, that’s it exactly, Professor . . .?” “Septima Vector,” she said. “Pleased to meet you.” “Likewise, Professor,” Charlie said. “Septima, please. I suspect that we must have gone to school together, though I don’t recall you specifically.” “We couldn’t have,” Charlie said, smiling and leaning casually against the wall. “I’d surely remember you.” Ginny only barely restrained herself from kicking her brother in the shins, but Professor Vector simply shrugged. “Actually, you did,” McGonagall said. Both Charlie and Septima started and glanced inquisitively at Professor McGonagall. “Ms. Vector was in her seventh year when you were in your first, Mr. Weasley. She had the privilege of attending Hogwarts before the Weasley invasion commenced in earnest.” Gee, thanks, Professor, Ginny said, but she had to grin at the joke. “Weren’t you in a hurry to reach the toilet, Mr. Weasley?” Vector asked, deadpan. Charlie’s grin flashed for a moment. “Call me Charlie. And yes, I was. If you’ll, err, excuse me?” At their amused nods, he put his bag on the ground and walked past them to the doorway of the lavatory. He hesitated only a moment, then stepped inside. “That was . . . interesting. Though who am I to find talking to oneself odd?” Professor Vector asked with a shrug. “That is hardly the point, Septima,” McGonagall replied. “Well, in lieu of facts to the contrary, would we not have to give him the benefit of the doubt? He seems rather harmless, even if I do not believe his story. Do you?” “Of course not,” McGonagall said. “Charlie Weasley has never in his life wondered about the interior of a girls’ lavatory. I daresay he’s waiting on the other side of the door and marveling that it looks just like the boys’.” “Shall I give him detention, then?” Vector asked, deadpan. Harry quickly covered Ginny’s mouth as she started giggling. Minerva shook her head. “Nothing of the sort. I am quite sure that, whatever he’s doing, he has good reason for it and means no harm.” “Really?” Septima seemed surprised. “You’d let him wander the corridors in the middle of the night without knowing why?” “Yes, I would,” McGonagall said simply. Charlie emerged from the lavatory, making a show of rubbing his hands together to finish drying them. “Well, I’ll just be on my way, then,” he announced, picking his bag up again. “I trust you enjoyed your visit, Charlie?” Vector asked. His smile was genuine. “Yes, thank you. Hagrid is always good company, and I never miss a chance to see my family these days.” “Have a good trip, Mr. Weasley,” McGonagall said. “If you should find yourself in the area in the future, feel free to visit. Though I do hope you will refrain from these midnight strolls in the future.” “Ah, but you meet the most interesting people at times like these,” Charlie said. McGonagall cocked her head to one side and gave him a very flat look. “Yes, I daresay you’ve encountered several interesting people since returning to the castle.” “Yes, well,” Charlie said, flustered. “Goodnight, Professors.” “Goodnight, Charlie,” Septima said as McGonagall nodded. He turned and started back down the stairs. Harry and Ginny waited, still and silent, as the two professors turned to go up to the next floor. Then they followed after Charlie and caught up with him on the second landing. Ginny reached out and caught his hand through the fabric of the cloak. “Thanks, Charlie,” she whispered. “What’s family for?” he asked, shrugging. “You two had better get back to the tower.” “It was great to see you,” Ginny said, hugging her brother through the cloak. “Good luck with the dragon.” “You too, Gin. And Harry, of course. Take care of yourselves, alright?” “We will,” Harry said. “Bye, Charlie.” Charlie waved in their direction and then resumed his path down the stairs. Shortcut? Ginny asked, watching her brother disappear from view. Definitely. McGonagall might still be on the stairs. Harry transported up to his room, leaving Ginny under the cloak in the hallway. As soon as he arrived, she went to her own bed and quickly changed into her pajamas. As Harry slipped into his own pajamas, inside his bed curtains, he heard footsteps crossing the room. Ginny sat on her own bed, wrapped in the cloak once again, and waited to be sure she would not be discovered in Harry’s room. “Harry?” a voice whispered. He finished buttoning his shirt and then pulled the curtains open to find Neville standing uncertainly on the other side. “Are you alright?” he asked. “Thought I heard you moving around.” “Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said. “Just couldn’t sleep.” “Me neither,” Neville said. “I kept thinking about what it must be like to spend all day around dragons. Can you imagine?” It’s the next best thing to heaven, if you ask Charlie, Ginny said. Harry shook his head. “Err . . . no, not really. Seems like it’d be pretty nerve-wracking, yeah?” “Yeah. Plants can be dangerous enough, but at least most of them don’t chase you when they get hungry.” Most of them? I’m afraid to ask, Harry said. “Well, that should be the last we have to see of any dragons,” he said aloud. “Let’s hope,” Neville replied. “Night, Harry.” “Night, Neville.” Harry pulled his curtains closed again and sat back against his headboard. He and Ginny silently agreed that they should wait a few minutes to let Neville settle before risking the noise of Ginny’s arrival. Ginny, do you want to tell Neville about, you know, us? I’m not sure, she said. It’s strange, but . . . I rather like having a friend who doesn’t know. Yeah, Harry agreed. He seems to have noticed a few odd things we do, when we’ve slipped, but he likes us anyway. Are we lying to him somehow? Ginny asked. They thought for a moment. I don’t know, Harry said at last. But, really, it doesn’t matter. I don’t think Dumbledore would let us tell him, anyway. That’s true, she agreed. But what about the Philosopher’s Stone? He was there when we found Fluffy, but we’ve never told him the rest. We’re not supposed to know at all, right? Harry asked. How would it help to tell him and maybe get him in trouble if he says the wrong thing? I suppose you’re right. Harry grinned in the darkness. We’re right. Whatever. Ginny shrugged in their minds and grinned herself. I’ve lost track. They waited a few more minutes until the dorm was silent and Harry thought he could hear Neville’s soft snores. Then Ginny moved to Harry’s bed, and they fell asleep quickly after the evening’s excitement. Two days later, they approached their weekly meeting with McGonagall with some trepidation. Do you think she knows? Harry asked. Probably, Ginny said, a trace of nervousness in her voice. Their professor wasted no time. After she had greeted them, she settled into her chair and regarded them regally. “Ginny, did you know that I encountered your brother Charlie in the corridors after midnight Friday evening?” Ginny had no idea what to say. She did not want to lie to McGonagall, but answering the question honestly would hardly help. Before they could decide how to respond, the stern woman continued. “In spite of his rather . . . farfetched . . . story, it seemed obvious that he was on his way to Gryffindor Tower. Just before he noticed Professor Vector and myself, we heard him speaking to one or more people. I heard laughter that sounded nothing at all like Charlie Weasley’s laughter. “And yet, when I did see Mr. Weasley, he was quite alone. Isn’t that curious?” This time, she waited for a response. Too nervous to speak, Harry and Ginny nodded jerkily. “I am forced to conclude that your brother was accompanied by one or more Hogwarts students, which means that those students were out in the corridors well past curfew, in direct violation of several school rules designed to ensure the safety of the castle’s residents.” She’s going to give us detention for a week, Ginny predicted, her eyes wide and her hands shaking. A month, at least, Harry countered. “As it so happens,” McGonagall continued, cocking her head to one side thoughtfully, “there are only two students in the school who could have been talking to Mr. Weasley and then escaped quickly enough to avoid my notice.” Her eyebrow rose and her eyes went flat. “In actual fact,” she repeated, “those two students are among the most likely to have been out in the corridors with him at that hour.” The professor’s words slowed and became even more unforgiving. “Do you know who those two students might be?” she asked. Harry swallowed convulsively, and Ginny gripped his hand tightly. They both kept their eyes riveted on their shoes. “I believe that you do,” McGonagall said. She stared at them for another long moment, daring them to speak. “However,” she said at last, “I am not in the habit of punishing my students based on, shall we say, circumstantial evidence.” The professor could not possibly have missed the breath Harry and Ginny each released in a rush. “Allow me, instead, to propose a hypothetical situation,” McGonagall continued. “If a student or students asked permission to be out of their common room after curfew with a trusted adult family member, such permission might be granted. If, however, those students had shown that they could not be trusted, I would very likely deny any such request. Hypothetically. Do you understand?” Again, the two first-years could only nod without looking up. Ginny let her hair fall forward, hiding her face from McGonagall as their faces burned with shame. “Excellent,” the witch said crisply. “While we are on the topic, there have been several interesting events this year that could also be attributed to the same two students.” McGonagall leaned forward, resting her elbows on the arms of her chair and lacing her fingers together in her lap. “I will be candid, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley. There is, perhaps, a place at Hogwarts for those sorts of . . . amusements. But if I catch anyone doing such things, I will punish them according to the rules of the school. And if anyone is injured in any way, I will find the students responsible. Do I make myself perfectly clear?” “Yes, Professor,” Ginny whispered as Harry nodded. “Good.” McGonagall leaned back in her chair and visibly relaxed. After a long moment, the corner of her mouth twisted into the barest hint of a smile. “The Headmaster looks quite shocking with red hair, don’t you think?” Harry grinned tentatively, and Ginny finally pushed her hair back behind her ears and raised her head. “Did you know that he had red hair when he was young? Not quite that red,” she said, her eyes shifting to Ginny’s flaming mane, “but red nonetheless. I daresay he enjoyed revisiting his youth.” As they walked back to their common room later, Harry and Ginny thought about the reprimand they had just experienced. I don’t ever want to go through that again, Harry said with an internal shudder. Well, me neither, but . . . Ginny paused. She did sort of say it was okay, so long as no one gets injured or really embarrassed or something. She did, didn’t she? He thought for another moment. And as long as no one gets hurt, we just have to accept the risk of getting caught and having detention. And if the detentions were that bad, Ginny finished, the twins wouldn’t still be doing pranks. She’ll know it’s us, though, if we keep doing things that only we could do. So? She shrugged. She already knows it’s us. We won’t get caught, that’s all. That’s a brilliant plan, Ginny, Harry said, rolling his eyes. She smiled brightly. Thank you, Harry. We thought so, too. A/N: I found myself without anything text-related to put in my author’s note, so I’d just like to take the opportunity to thank everyone for voting for this story in the DSTAs. It’s a great feeling. |
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