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“Harry!” he said, smiling as he looked up. “How are you?”
“Fine, thanks,” said Harry as he, Ron, and Hermione joined Mr. Weasley with their shopping.
Mr. Weasley put down his paper, and Harry saw the now familiar picture of Sirius Black staring up at him.
“They still haven’t caught him, then?” he asked.
“No,” said Mr. Weasley, looking extremely grave. “They’ve pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far.”
“Would we get a reward if we caught him?” asked Ron. “It’d be good to get some more money—”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Ron,” said Mr. Weasley, who on closer inspection looked very strained. “Black’s not going to be caught by a thirteen year old wizard. It’s the Azkaban guards who’ll get him back, you mark my words.”
At that moment Mrs. Weasley entered the bar, laden with shopping bags and followed by the twins, Fred and George, who were about to start their fifth year at Hogwarts; the newly elected Head Boy, Percy; and the Weasleys’ youngest child and only girl, Gi
Gi
“Hello, Percy,” said Harry, trying not to laugh.
“I hope you’re well?” said Percy pompously, shaking hands. It was rather like being introduced to the mayor.
“Very well, thanks—”
“Harry!” said Fred, elbowing Percy out of the way and bowing deeply. “Simply splendid to see you, old boy—”
“Marvelous,” said George, pushing Fred aside and seizing Harry’s hand in turn. “Absolutely spiffing.”
Percy scowled.
“That’s enough, now,” said Mrs. Weasley.
“Mum!” said Fred as though he’d only just spotted her and seizing her hand too. “How really corking to see you—”
“I said, that’s enough,” said Mrs. Weasley, depositing her shopping in an empty chair. “Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you’ve heard our exciting news?” She pointed to the brand new silver badge on Percy’s chest. “Second Head Boy in the family!” she said, swelling with pride.
“And last,” Fred muttered under his breath.
“I don’t doubt that,” said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly. “I notice they haven’t made you two prefects.”
“What do we want to be prefects for?” said George, looking revolted at the very idea. “It’d take all the fun out of life.”
Gi
“You want to set a better example for your sister!” snapped Mrs. Weasley.
“Gi
“We tried to shut him in a pyramid,” he told Harry. “But Mum spotted us.”
Di
“How’re we getting to King’s Cross tomorrow, Dad?” asked Fred as they dug into a sumptuous chocolate pudding.
“The Ministry’s providing a couple of cars,” said Mr. Weasley.
Everyone looked up at him.
“Why?” said Percy curiously.
“It’s because of you, Perce,” said George seriously. “And there’ll be little flags on the hoods, with HB on them—”
“—for Humongous Bighead,” said Fred.
Everyone except Percy and Mrs. Weasley snorted into their pudding.
“Why are the Ministry providing cars, Father?” Percy asked again, in a dignified voice.
“Well, as we haven’t got one anymore,” said Mr. Weasley, “—and as I work there, they’re doing me a favor—”
His voice was casual, but Harry couldn’t help noticing that Mr. Weasley’s ears had gone red, just like Ron’s did when he was under pressure.
“Good thing, too,” said Mrs. Weasley briskly. “Do you realize how much luggage you’ve all got between you? A nice sight you’d be on the Muggle Underground… You are all packed, aren’t you?”
“Ron hasn’t put all his new things in his trunk yet,” said Percy, in a long suffering voice. “He’s dumped them on my bed.”
“You’d better go and pack properly, Ron, because we won’t have much time in the morning,” Mrs. Weasley called down the table. Ron scowled at Percy.
After di
The door of number twelve was ajar and Percy was shouting.
“It was here, on the bedside table, I took it off for polishing—”
“I haven’t touched it, all right?” Ron roared back.
“What’s up?” said Harry.
“My Head Boy badge is gone,” said Percy, rounding on Harry.
“So’s Scabbers’s rat tonic,” said Ron, throwing things out of his trunk to look. “I think I might’ve left it in the bar—”
“You’re not going anywhere till you’ve found my badge!” yelled Percy.
“I’ll get Scabbers’s stuff, I’m packed,” Harry said to Ron, and he went downstairs.
Harry was halfway along the passage to the bar, which was now very dark, when he heard another pair of angry voices coming from the parlor. A second later, he recognized them as Mr. and Mrs. Weasleys’. He hesitated, not wanting them to know he’d heard them arguing, when the sound of his own name made him stop, then move closer to the parlor door.
“—makes no sense not to tell him,” Mr. Weasley was saying heatedly. “Harry’s got a right to know. I’ve tried to tell Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He’s thirteen years old and—”
“Arthur, the truth would terrify him!” said Mrs. Weasley shrilly. “Do you really want to send Harry back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven’s sake, he’s happy not knowing!”
“I don’t want to make him miserable, I want to put him on his guard!” retorted Mr. Weasley. “You know what Harry and Ron are like, wandering off by themselves—they’ve ended up in the Forbidden Forest twice! But Harry mustn’t do that this year! When I think what could have happened to him that night he ran away from home! If the Knight Bus hadn’t picked him up, I’m prepared to bet he would have been dead before the Ministry found him.”
“But he’s not dead, he’s fine, so what’s the point—”
“Molly, they say Sirius Black’s mad, and maybe he is, but he was clever enough to escape from Azkaban, and that’s supposed to be impossible. It’s been three weeks, and no one’s seen hide nor hair of him, and I don’t care what Fudge keeps telling the Daily Prophet, we’re no nearer catching Black than inventing self spelling wands. The only thing we know for sure is what Black’s after—”
“But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts.”
“We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe. If Black can break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts.”
“But no one’s really sure that Black’s after Harry—”
There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.
“Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn’t report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards told Fudge that Black’s been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: ‘He’s at Hogwarts… he’s at Hogwarts.’ Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he’s had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…”
There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.