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“You did?” said Harry, amused.
“Yeah… yeah, now Umbridge has left, obviously we need a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, don’t we? So, er, what’s he like?”
“He looks a bit like a walrus, and he used to be Head of Slytherin,” said Harry. “Something wrong, Hermione?”
She was watching him as though expecting strange symptoms to manifest themselves at any moment. She rearranged her features hastily in an unconvincing smile.
“No, of course not! So, um, did Slughorn seem like he’ll be a good teacher?”
“Du
“I know someone who’s worse than Umbridge,” said a voice from the doorway. Ron’s younger sister slouched into the room, looking irritable. “Hi, Harry.”
“What’s up with you?” Ron asked.
“It’s her,” said Gi
“What’s she done now?” asked Hermione sympathetically.
“It’s the way she talks to me… you’d think I was about three!”
“I know,” said Hermione, dropping her voice. “She’s so full of herself.”
Harry was astonished to hear Hermione talking about Mrs. Weasley like this and could not blame Ron for saying angrily, “Can’t you two lay off her for five seconds?”
“Oh, that’s right, defend her,” snapped Gi
This seemed an odd comment to make about Ron’s mother. Starting to feel that he was missing something, Harry said, “Who are you…?”
But his question was answered before he could finish it. The bedroom door flew open again, and Harry instinctively yanked the bedcovers up to his chin so hard that Hermione and Gi
A young woman was standing in the doorway, a woman of such breathtaking beauty that the room seemed to have become strangely airless. She was tall and willowy with long blonde hair and appeared to emanate a faint, silvery glow. To complete this vision of perfection, she was carrying a heavily laden breakfast tray.
“’Arry,” she said in a throaty voice. “Eet ’as been too long!”
As she swept over the threshold toward him, Mrs. Weasley was revealed, bobbing along in her wake, looking rather cross.
“There was no need to bring up the tray, I was just about to do it myself!”
“Eet was no trouble,” said Fleur Delacour, setting the tray across Harry’s knees and then swooping to kiss him on each cheek: He felt the places where her mouth had touched him burn. “I ’ave been longing to see ’im. You remember my seester, Gabrielle? She never stops talking about ’Arry Potter. She will be delighted to see you again.”
“Oh… is she here too?” Harry croaked.
“No, no, silly boy,” said Fleur with a tinkling laugh, “I mean next summer, when we… but do you not know?”
Her great blue eyes widened and she looked reproachfully at Mrs. Weasley, who said, “We hadn’t got around to telling him yet.”
Fleur turned back to Harry, swinging her silvery sheet of hair so that it whipped Mrs. Weasley across the face.
“Bill and I are going to be married!”
“Oh,” said Harry blankly. He could not help noticing how Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Gi
She swooped down upon him and kissed him again.
“Bill is very busy at ze moment, working very ’ard, and I only work part-time at Gringotts for my Eenglish, so he brought me ’ere for a few days to get to know ’is family properly. I was so pleased to ’ear you would be coming… zere isn’t much to do ’ere, unless you like cooking and chickens! Well… enjoy your breakfast, ’Arry!”
With these words she turned gracefully and seemed to float out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.
Mrs. Weasley made a noise that sounded like, “tchah!”
“Mum hates her,” said Gi
“I do not hate her!” said Mrs. Weasley in a cross whisper. “I just think they’ve hurried into this engagement, that’s all!”
“They’ve known each other a year,” said Ron, who looked oddly groggy and was staring at the closed door.
“Well, that’s not very long! I know why it’s happened, of course. Its all this uncertainty with You-Know-Who coming back, people think they might be dead tomorrow, so they’re rushing all sorts of decisions they’d normally take time over. It was the same last time he was powerful, people eloping left, right, and center…”
“Including you and Dad,” said Gi
“Yes, well, your father and I were made for each other, what was the point in waiting?” said Mrs. Weasley. “Whereas Bill and Fleur… well… what have they really got in common? He’s a hardworking, down-to-earth sort of person, whereas she’s…”
“A cow,” said Gi
“Stop calling her that, Gi
Looking careworn, she left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water.
“Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked.
“Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then…”
“It’s pathetic,” said Hermione furiously, striding away from Ron as far as she could go and turning to face him with her arms folded once she had reached the wall.
“You don’t really want her around forever?” Gi
“How’s she going to manage that?” asked Harry.
“She keeps trying to get Tonks round for di
“Yeah, that’ll work,” said Ron sarcastically. “Listen, no bloke in his right mind’s going to fancy Tonks when Fleur’s around. I mean, Tonks is okay-looking when she isn’t doing stupid things to her hair and her nose, but…”
“She’s a damn sight nicer than Phlegm,” said Gi
“And she’s more intelligent, she’s an Auror!” said Hermione from the corner.
“Fleur’s not stupid, she was good enough to enter the Triwizard Tournament,” said Harry.
“Not you as well!” said Hermione bitterly.
“I suppose you like the way Phlegm says ‘’Arry,’ do you?” asked Gi
“No,” said Harry, wishing he hadn’t spoken, “I was just saying, Phlegm… I mean, Fleur…”
“I’d much rather have Tonks in the family,” said Gi
“She hasn’t been much of a laugh lately,” said Ron. “Every time I’ve seen her she’s looked more like Moaning Myrtle.”
“That’s not fair,” snapped Hermione. “She still hasn’t got over what happened… you know… I mean, he was her cousin!”
Harry’s heart sank. They had arrived at Sirius. He picked up a fork and began shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, hoping to deflect any invitation to join in this part of the conversation.
“Tonks and Sirius barely knew each other!” said Ron. “Sirius was in Azkaban half her life and before that their families never met—”
“That’s not the point,” said Hermione. “She thinks it was her limit he died!”
“How does she work that one out?” asked Harry, in spite of himself.
“Well, she was fighting Bellatrix Lestrange, wasn’t she? I think she feels that if only she had finished her off, Bellatrix couldn’t have killed Sirius.”
“That’s stupid,” said Ron.
“It’s survivor’s guilt,” said Hermione. “I know Lupin’s tried to talk her round, but she’s still really down. She’s actually having trouble with her Metamorphosing!”
“With her…?”
“She can’t change her appearance like she used to,” explained Hermione. “I think her powers must have been affected by shock, or something.”