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Author: parakletos Story: The Sins of the Fathers Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: Completed Reviews: 1 Words: 104,346
Author’s Note: After many promises, I've finally finished this and the remaining chapters will be posted weekly (or near enough). Huge thanks to Sherry for her beta work over many years and for her friendship, and to you, dear reader, for sticking with it. ~*~ “Nights? You’ve put me on bloody nights?” “Everyone has to do it, Harry. You’re not asking for special treatment, are you?” “No, just to be treated the same as everybody else.” Arguments between himself and Black were all too common these days. The more he pushed against the older man, the more he pushed back. He’d given up trying to be subtle about wanting his independence and had even threatened to leave both Grimmauld Place and the Aurors, but Black had called his bluff on both. He wasn’t ready to leave North London yet, but he had identified a possible property in Cheshire. He’d asked Gringotts to handle the purchase and the conversions and to keep his name out of it. They’d agreed, for a fee, of course, but the chain had broken down more than once, and the fact that he was a cash buyer didn’t impress the Estate Agents or their client who wanted more than he was prepared to pay. “Sorry, Mr Potter,” Gringotts Head of Property had explained, “the market is a little toppy at the moment.” Just what toppy was had never been properly explained, other than to say that an increased offer would improve matters. “For you or for me?” A slightly increased offer hadn’t changed a thing, at least where the sellers were concerned, but his banker smiled at him a bit more when he called him. He wasn’t sure if he was going to stay in the Aurors or not, but then, he had no idea what he’d do if he didn’t. His bank balance suggested that he didn’t have to do anything for a very long time if he didn’t want to. And that appealed to him, because then people would stop using him, stop lying to him, and he’d be his own man. Only one person had been honest with him, only one person had not used him for their own purposes, but he’d lied to her and she’d stormed off, leaving him to face the consequences. Not that he blamed her, not now, anyway. She struck him as someone who could be a challenge to live with, but that the rewards would be worth it. Even in her compliant state, before the contract had been settled, she’d struck him as someone who was his equal, someone who could look him in the eye and call him a fool. And he wouldn’t mind, not really, not if he got to look into her eyes again, wondering if she was going to yell at him for a very long time. He reached into his pocket, feeling for the one thing of hers he still possessed and wondered if he’d ever be able to give it back to her. He took comfort in the soft fabric before turning back to the man in front of him. “No, Black, all I want is a fair crack of the whip. I’ve done four days on and I should be on three days off. Twelve-hour days aren’t fun you know, not in this weather, even with a Warming Charm.” “Getting soft in your old age?” The grin, the taunt, and the annoyance of a man twice his age acting like he was still at Hogwarts had never annoyed him more. “I don’t know why I bother. You’re a law unto yourself.” Harry paused, waiting for Black’s grin to disappear. It didn’t, of course, it never did. It would probably survive the removal of the bastard’s front teeth by a well-placed fist. Reluctantly, he held out his hand. “Give me the bloody assignment then!” Black reached inside his robe and pulled out a tightly folded piece of parchment. He carefully unwrapped it, not taking his eyes of the man as he did so. “Hogsmeade?” The grin got wider, if such a thing were possible. “You’re on patrol from midnight. Usual stuff, nothing too taxing. Pay Aberforth a visit to make sure he’s not taking money from the punters during his Friday night lock-in. And give Rosie a kiss from me for old time’s sake. More, if your todger needs warming up, I’m sure she won’t turn you down.” “And what about Tonks?” he asked, scarcely able to believe his ears. “If the rumours are true, Rosie will accommodate her as well.” If the man expected him to respond favourably at such a prospect, he was going to be sadly mistaken. Madame Rosmerta was an attractive witch, but even if he was tempted to make a cold night more bearable with a tumble between the sheets, his recent experience with Romilly Vane had ended whatever interest he had in casual sex. He wondered if it was worth arguing that patrolling Hogsmeade was as pointless as asking his godfather not to look down a witch’s cleavage. He decided that attempting a rational discussion while the man was in such a childish mood was pointless. “And after my shift’s over?” he asked, trying to return some normality to the conversation. “You’re on leave for four days.” “Good!” “But there’s a ball on the Tuesday so—” “No.” “Now, Harry…” “Rearrange these two words to form a well-known sentence: off… F—” “Go and find Tonks. We’ll talk about the ball when you’re talking sense.” And with that, Black retired to his office and closed the door without even a backward glance. ~*~ “You know, Sirius, if you’d deal with Harry as an adult, life would be a lot simpler for us all.” Black slumped in his chair, enduring his latest telling off. Edith was being very sweet, of course, but he knew that she was angry with him. What made it worse was that he knew that she was right. “Stop trying to be his mate and start treating him as the man he is.” “But if he finds out what I’ve done, then I’ll lose him.” “Sirius, you’ve already lost him, he’s merely biding his time.” “But—” “But nothing. Now, try being straight with him, you’ll be surprised how he responds. And for Pete’s sake, don’t keep him in the dark about what you have planned for Hogwarts. He is no sheep to be staked out for the tiger to attack. He IS the tiger.” He slumped even further, his head buried in his hands. She was right, of course, she always was. But a lifetime of manipulation was a habit hard to break, and besides, he’d managed to rescue worse situations than this before, so why give up now? He looked up, smiling at her as he spoke. “Of course, dear. You’re right, he deserves to know the truth.” She looked at him, her face full of disbelief. “Just make sure you do, Sirius, or you’ll lose more than Harry over this.” ~*~ Predictably for a November night, Hogsmeade was very quiet and very cold. Without the Muggle teenagers that places like Glasgow and Edinburgh had to endure tossing rockets and bangers at each other, the night after Guy Fawkes’ Night was always quiet in Hogsmeade. Aberforth had offered Harry and Tonks one for the road to keep the chill out of their bones and Rosie, as predicted by Black, had offered Harry an alternative way of keeping warm. Alcohol had lost its appeal following his night with Miss Vane and attractive though Madam Rosmerta was, the thought of ploughing the same furrow as Black had done, reduced his sex drive more than the cold could possibly do. Thankfully, Tonks was even less interested in Hogsmeade’s midnight hospitality than he was. Instead, the two settled for Warming Charms and for keeping moving, but when the Greasy Spoon opened for breakfast at six, they were waiting outside the door, shuffling their feet with impatience. ~*~ November was a strange month, Ginny decided as she stood on the steps of the main entrance to Hogwarts. Not really autumn, but not a real winter month. That didn’t stop it being cold, but on a decent day, even Scotland could muster some sunshine. The clear skies above promised a fine day, but at the expense of the overnight frost. The castle was warm enough, but bracing was a polite way of describing the biting cold that hadn’t yet been tamed by the weak late autumn sun. She shaded her eyes and stared towards the east and the weak sun. She resolved that she would try and enjoy the day unfettered by the concerns that had dogged the term so far. She was free from the contract that bound her for so many years and finally the boys of Hogwarts had realised that they lacked the maturity to interest her. Even Dean Thomas had retreated into the woodwork, and that had to be a good thing, didn’t it? She took one last glance up at the sky and turned inside to have some breakfast. One of the things she hadn’t appreciated prior to Harry’s departure was the quality of the food that the house-elves dished up. She supposed that it was because her senses, except when it came to Harry, had been dulled, and although she wouldn’t have described it as dull, she realised that with the freedom to be herself, her senses were working overtime, and the newfound sense of smell and taste made each new meal a banquet. Her mother’s food probably tasted better too, but the less said about her mother the better. She cleared her plate and allowed herself a few moments for her food to settle before leaving to start the day in earnest. She let out a sigh and then a less-than-ladylike burp. If her classmates had noticed, they were too polite to say anything, but Ginny would have preferred it if someone had said something. Perhaps her years as the ice maiden would take longer to overcome than she thought. With another sigh and thankfully no more wind, she stood and left to catch up with Mr Filch regarding the day’s activities. The man in question was standing, sentry-like, casting suspicious looks at everything as if daring the gravel beneath his feet to misbehave. Her feet resounded in the cold silence of the courtyard and her footsteps on the still-frozen gravel surely alerted him to her presence. If they did, he didn’t show any sign of being aware of her approach. He was perhaps the most famous Squib in the Wizarding world, but he still managed to run rings round generations of magic users. Perhaps there was more to the man than met the eye. “Good morning, Mr Filch, Mrs Norris, how are you both today?” It still felt strange to enjoy such cordial relations with the man who was the bane of everyone’s life, but on days like today she would take whatever positives she could. Mrs Norris answered by rubbing herself against Ginny’s legs and purring loudly. Filch’s response was less effusive but still as warm. “Not bad, Miss Weasley, not bad. If it wasn’t for the lies I was going to have to put up with over the next few hours, I might even say that I was feeling quite good.” She had never discovered just what had triggered this change in her relationship with the Caretaker. Even though she had been a model student, she was not immune to his snide remarks and petty vindictiveness. She knew that it was connected to her involvement with Harry, but exactly how that affected her standing with the man now standing next to her, she would never know. Just another mystery connected to Potter; the list gets longer by the day. “Give them another half hour and the little blighters will be queuing up to begin their mayhem.” “Surely they can’t do too much whilst waiting to have their forms signed?” “There’s always a few; not got their slip signed. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Filch, sir, but I left it at home. I asked my mum to send it to me but the owl must have got lost.’ More like the little wretch hasn’t got his precious mummy’s permission! They must think I was born yesterday!” “Quite. Still, there must only be a few that try that one, and then I daresay you have a peaceful day.” “Until they come back. Damned buggers will have their pockets full of all sorts of mischief, most of it from your brothers now that they’ve been allowed into Hogsmeade. Didn’t think Ongratian Zonko was going to let them, but the son is half the man that his father was, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got his beady eye set on retirement.” She expected this announcement to trigger a tirade against all things Weasley, but it didn’t. “Crafty buggers, those brothers of yours. Best I ever had to face, except for Potter and his gang. Kids today have no subtlety, especially that remaining brother of yours. Dull as a pig’s fat candle, that one. “ Ginny looked at him in surprise. The man’s voice was almost wistful; did he really miss her brothers? “Still, perhaps the Aurors might knock some sense into them. Perhaps.” “Aurors?” “Been patrolling all night, Gunhild tells me.” “Gunhild?” “Gunhild Netherwhallop, owner of the Greasy Spoon since her husband was killed by them Death Eaters last war. Stopped by for her best fry up. Says Potter himself was there, but why a man like him would be patrolling a place like this is beyond me. Waste of money, in my opinion. Typical of the Ministry, spending the hard-earned Galleons of working wizards like there’s no tomorrow. More money than sense, if you ask me.” She left Filch to his mutterings and trudged back to the castle, trying to decide what she was going to do. Part of her wanted to go into Hogsmeade now, find Potter and demand answers. But that was out of the question, she knew that. Even if she came up with some half-arsed excuse about checking that everything was safe, she wasn’t yet dressed for the weather, let alone mentally prepared for what would be, in her eyes at least, a very important conversation. And besides, another voice in her head told her to go back to bed and stay there until he’d gone. The proper course of action, she knew, was somewhere in between, but where in-between she had no idea. In the end, she didn’t make it to Hogsmeade until gone eleven, by which time the visit was in full swing and the crowds of students were spread out amongst the shops and streets of the village. Some were busier than others, of course, but even the most mundane of shops could count of a decent footfall when students with Galleons had more than a few spare hours to kill. Ginny had no shopping to do as she found the crush more than she could bear and so her only plan for the day was to be seen doing Head Girl things — whatever they were— and drop in on her brothers’ newly opened emporium. By agreement with Zonko’s, who had more than their fair share of influence on the good burghers of Hogsmeade, the shop was off the beaten track and therefore not, theoretically at least, in direct competition with the more established business. Not that they would let anything as trivial as that get in their way. There were no signs directing people to the shop, but a steady trickle of both boys and girls down a side street suggested that word had got out and those who hadn’t blown their allowance in Zonko’s were off to check out her brothers’ shop. As she approached the junction, she noticed a familiar sight walking slowly up the street towards the Three Broomsticks. Accompanied by his partner, Harry Potter was once again on patrol in the village. She found herself in agreement with Filch: just why was the most famous wizard in Britain undertaking this most menial of tasks? Unlike the last Hogsmeade weekend, she had no desire to rush off after him. Yes, she did want to talk to him, but running around after him would not get her the answers that she needed. That would only come when she was able to sit down with him face-to-face, undisturbed by the hoo-hah that normally accompanied him and have a good, honest-to-goodness talk. None of this strange, coded conversation that had ended her last visit and had left her more confused than anything. And it wasn’t just the desire to know what he had known when he’d come to Hogwarts, she wanted to watch him squirm under her questioning as she paid him back for the emotional wringer he’d put her though. But the chances of that happening with his partner in tow were limited, to say the least. She had been pleased when Harry had put her in her place last month, but so much time had passed since then that she wondered if the woman had managed to inveigle her way back into his affections. She checked her watch; it was just gone twenty past, plenty of time to find out how her brothers were getting on and then grab a quick bite to eat before heading back to school. ~*~ Harry was bored. Bored and cold. And angry, too. It didn’t help that Tonks was quieter than normal, or that a group of mainly Slytherin third years were following the two of them around making snide comments and generally being annoying. They’d both asked them politely to stop, but the gaggle of gigglers were not to be dissuaded and so they both had to grin and bear it. Of the school prefects, there was no sign, and the Head Boy and Head Girl were conspicuous by their absence. Harry made sure that he’d got a good look at them so that when he was done he could review their faces in a Pensieve. He couldn’t do anything against the kids, much as he wanted to, but he would look through the Department’s records to see if there were any family members who needed their collar felt. A glance at his watch showed that he had another half hour to endure before he could put an end to his misery. As they trudged up the High Street, his thoughts turned to his last patrol in Hogsmeade and his encounter with Ginny Weasley. Their meeting had gone better than he’d imagined, and he’d been optimistic that they would been able to have a reasonable conversation the next time they met, but so far at least, there hadn’t been a next time, and to make matters worse, he’d ended up in bed with one of the Vane sisters. As time had elapsed and his anger over the incident had passed, he’d had time to reflect on his actions. He’d never been one for letting his emotions get the better of him, it hadn’t been a luxury he’d been allowed growing up. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t gone through his own teenage traumas, but on the big stuff, the stuff that had really mattered, he learned early on to control himself. But now, well, he’d begun to notice that he was freer with his opinions, less guarded in company. The fact that he’d spent the evening talking to Vane, let alone spending the night with her, was proof positive that since the contract had been settled his life was changing, and part of him thought that it wasn’t for the better. He looked at Tonks and then at the group of Slytherins. She looked as bored as he was, but unlike him appeared content to see the morning out and not hex the spoiled brats behind them. ~*~ There was a time, no more than the long, lazy days of summer, that Ginny had been disparaging of her brothers’ attempts to run a business based on jokes and novelty items. It wasn’t that she thought that they were unintelligent or, unlike her brother Ron, lazy. It was, well, who made a living selling jokes? Even when the Galleons began to pile up, she had still refused to acknowledge that they were on to a winner. But now, as she stood in the middle of the shop floor, staring at the packed shelves and the crowds of eager punters, she was glad that her view of the world was different enough now for her to appreciate just how much they had achieved. She pushed through the crowds and, with a nod to the two assistants who were struggling to keep up with the demands of their impatient customers, she slipped into the rear of the shop to find her brothers. To her surprise, not only were the twins there, but also Ron. His arms were piled high with what looked like the most expensive merchandise they had on offer and a look of thunder on his face. “But why not?” he whined stamping his feet as he did so, “I’m your brother!” “Too true, little brother, but this stuff cost hard-earned Galleons to make and we’re not about to let it go free and gratis.” Ron turned to the other twin, but was rebuffed just as forcefully. “Spend the rest of the day working for us and we’ll let you have one item as your wages, but no freeloaders allowed.” “But, Fred…” “I mean it, Ron, get behind the counter or naff off. I don’t care which, but whatever it is, do it soon, or we’ll set our favourite sister on you.” “Afternoon, Weasleys, need any help?” “Other than kicking Ron out, no, we’re fine.” “But weren’t you offering Ron a job a few minutes ago? It looks pretty busy out there.” “Letting our indolent sibling loose on the younglings is one thing, but the Head Girl surveying everyone’s purchases is going to kill the day faster than Filch guarding the door.” “Oh, thanks, didn’t know I was that well-liked.” “No offence, sis, but you are the Head Girl and, like as not, you and/or Filch is going to be confiscating most of this stuff before it can be used.” “It’s not our fault that they lack any imagination. Oh, the man himself sends his regards, by the way.” “Really?” “Well, not exactly, but he did give the impression that the pranksters of today were strictly third-division when it came to you and Harry’s dad.” “He compared us to Prongs?” “Who is Prongs, when he’s at home?” “You’ll have to ask Harry that when you see him.” “He’s around, by the way. Popped his head around the door to wish us luck. Probably hoping to catch a glimpse of our less-glamorous sister. You can probably catch him before he goes, rumour has it he’s only here until twelve.” She noticed that Fred had gone, leaving George and Ron squaring off at each other. “You still here, you mangy little freeloader? Hop it before I set the Head Girl on you.” And with that, he pulled a set of step-ladders out of the corner and clambered up them to grab stuff from the highest shelf. “See you later, Ron.” “Er, yeah, right. See you later.” “And Ron?” “Yeah?” “Causing trouble for one of the shopkeepers will get you in detention, brother or not.” And with that, she left him to bemoan that family meant nothing to anyone anymore. ~*~ “If you little wankers don’t piss off soon, you’ll spend the rest of the day cooling your heels down the nick.” Harry stared at Tonks, more than a little surprised that she had finally had enough of the taunts from their cloud of followers. “Hiding behind another woman, Potter?” “First your mum, then the Weasley girl, and now this two-bit trollop.” “And the ‘Weasley Girl’ is back to make sure you don’t ruin anyone else’s day. The five of you report to Mr Filch, who will be more than happy to keep you occupied for the rest of the day, and then I think your Head of House will take over your punishment.” Harry was surprised at the look of horror on his tormentors’ faces. Filch, he could understand, as once the Caretaker learned that they had been given detention for tormenting Harry Potter, not only would his mind be working overtime to think of suitable punishments, but their copy book would be blotted for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. But scared at Snape? Surely he’d let them off with cleaning the potions lab using magic. Ginny continued her telling-off, and he tried to hide his smile as their shoulders slumped. She watched as they trudged off, their day of fun over and done with, before sending a Patronus ahead of them to deliver the news of their punishments. “Makes a change for me to be saving your skin, doesn’t it?” “A pleasant change,” he agreed, wondering where the conversation was heading. “Bet you’re wondering why I let Snape take over their punishments?” He nodded. “Snape will be annoyed that they had been so unsubtle, plus it involved you. Red rag to a bull as far as he’s concerned, a happy coincidence as far as I am. Their card will be marked in their house for the rest of their stay at Hogwarts; I couldn’t have devised a worse punishment.” By the time she’d finished, she was grinning ear-to-ear and he found it hard not to respond in kind. “So why is the Great, All-Powerful, Harry Potter stalking the streets of Hogsmeade? It’s safer than a nun on the potion these days.” “We have no idea,” responded Tonks, “but there’s only ten minutes left, and then me and the boy wonder are out of here and curled up in a nice warm bed.” Harry saw Ginny’s face drop as Tonks announced their plans. “You might want to mention, Tonks, that we are talking about separate beds in different locations.” “Of course; didn’t I mention that?” Her voice was playful and, after fixing her with his stare, he decided so were her intentions. It was nice to see her starting to return to the woman he knew. The smile was back on Ginny’s face and she took a few steps towards him. “Well, if you’ve got a bit of time on your hands, perhaps you wouldn’t mind answering a question.” The bottom fell out of Harry’s world with those words. He knew that sooner or later they needed to have a serious talk, but he had hoped that that would happen away from prying eyes. “What do you want to know?” he asked, dreading the answer. “Who or what was Prongs?” Tonks let out a snort and Harry found himself laughing in relief. “Prongs? This is Prongs.” And taking hold of the joy he felt, he cast his Patronus. “He’s named after Harry’s dad, who was known as Prongs, after his Animagus form.” “So why would they be in awe of him?” “Because of this,” and with a flourish, he pulled the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket. “Tap it with your wand and say, ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’” Ginny stepped forward and, after a reassuring nod from Harry, did as she was told. The blank piece of parchment in front of her sprang into life, and she immediately recognised the floor plan of Hogwarts. “Where did you get this?” “Filch gave it to me. Said he’d confiscated it from your brothers.” “And where did they get it? I mean they are smart, but this is beyond them.” “My dad and his mates made it at Hogwarts. It was the key to their success.” “Filch is still hankering after the good old days when your dad and his fellow trouble-makers were around to make his life a misery.” “I know. Imogen misses them, too.” “Imogen?” “Better known as Mrs Norris, but I know she had a soft spot for Remus.” “As in Remus Lupin?” “The very same.” “And the others?” “Padfoot you know as Black, and Wormtail was Peter.” “Are you an Animagus?” “I can’t tell you either way.” “Can’t or won’t?” “Can’t, it’s a secret not even I can reveal. “ “But you could transform and then I’d know.” “If I am one, and that’s a big ‘IF’, then I can’t do so in front of anyone not included in the original secret.” “Oh.” “But maybe one day you will be able to find out one way or another.” ~*~ Ginny couldn’t believe her luck. Not only had she caught up with Harry before he’d left, but she caught her favourite gang of Slytherins baiting him and his partner. Better still, they were taking her name in vain when she was standing behind them. “And the ‘Weasley Girl’ is back to make sure you don’t ruin anyone else’s day. The five of you report to Mr Filch, who will be more than happy to keep you occupied for the rest of the day, and then I think your Head of House will take over your punishment.” She enjoyed the look of surprise on his face when she’d announced her presence. As the little creeps turned round to face her, she revelled in the look of dismay caused by their being caught. Most of all, she enjoyed his puzzled look as she’d announced their punishment. It felt good to be the one in the know and him playing catch up. A small and perhaps a petty thing, but for him to see her in her natural habitat, so to speak, made her stand just a bit straighter. The good feeling was more than enough to help generate her Patronus and, as her steed galloped away to share the good news of their punishment, she enjoyed the look of approval her actions had won from him. “Makes a change for me to be saving your skin, doesn’t it?” She was crowing a bit, but she’d had so little opportunity to show him just what she could do, she was determined to enjoy the moment whilst it lasted. “A pleasant change,” he agreed, confusion on his face. As she explained everything to him, she realised that his approval wasn’t that she’d punished the Slytherins, but the way in which she’d done it. For once in their chequered relationship, she felt something like his equal. Emboldened by this new-found equality she asked the question everyone else was asking. “So why is the Great, All Powerful, Harry Potter stalking the streets of Hogsmeade? It’s safer than a nun on the potion these days.” To her disappointment, it was his Auror partner, Tonks, who answered, not missing the chance to taunt Ginny as she did so. She could see Harry had decided that it was all in jest, but she knew better. Tonks may be out of the running when it came to being more than Harry’s work partner, but that didn’t stop her testing Ginny. Perhaps she wanted to make sure that she was worthy of him. She took a few steps towards Harry, not prepared to leave anything to chance. She wasn’t sure what she and Harry were, and even less sure of what they could be, but she wanted Tonks out of the way, as she was still a wild card in Ginny’s eyes. Time to take the initiative. “Well, if you’ve got a bit of time on your hands, perhaps you wouldn’t mind answering a question.” The look of panic was wonderful to behold and she began to realise that he was struggling with everything as much as she was. As long as she wasn’t prepared to let him have the initiative all the time, this would be a conversation of equals. “What do you want to know?” his discomfort showing in his voice. “Who or what was Prongs?” Tonks let out a snort and Harry was laughing, too. “Prongs? This is Prongs.” She watched, transfixed, as a magnificent stag burst from the end of Harry’s wand and bounded around them. Tonks was explaining something, but she was enraptured by the creature. Her own Patronus was powerful, but the brightness of Harry’s was something to behold. But how this related to her brothers escaped her. They respected magical power, but it was cleverness that really left them impressed. “So why would they be in awe of him?” “Because of this,” and with a flourish, he pulled the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket. “Tap it with your wand and say ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’” She stepped forward and, after a reassuring nod from Harry, did as she was told. The blank piece of parchment in front of her sprang into life and she immediately recognised the floor plan of Hogwarts. A stream of questions sprang to mind. This was why Filch was yearning for the good old days when he had what he considered worthy foes. This was brilliant, spellmanship of the highest quality and creative, too. Far too clever for her brothers, however good they were. He answered her questions, each answer revealing more and more of the brilliance of his father and his friends. The inclusion of Lupin and Black didn’t surprise him, but his confession regarding Mrs Norris did. “Imogen?” “Better known as Mrs Norris, but I know she had a soft spot for Remus.” “As in Remus Lupin?” “The very same.” “And the others?” “Padfoot you know as Black, and Wormtail was Peter.” “Are you an Animagus?” “I can’t tell you either way.” “Can’t or won’t?” “Can’t, it’s a secret not even I can reveal. “ “But you could transform and then I’d know.” “If I am one, and that’s a big ‘IF’, then I can’t do so in front of anyone not included in the original secret.” “Oh.” “But maybe one day you will be able to find out one way or another.” “And that,” announced Tonks, “is the end of today’s questions. I don’t know about you, Harry, but my bed is calling me, along with a nice cup of hot chocolate. So please excuse me.” And with a twist and a soft pop she was gone. She looked at her watch. It was twelve o’clock and time for Harry to leave as well. She looked up and noticed that he was looking at his watch, too. “Time for some lunch, I think,” he said with a smile, “care to join me?” ~*~ Lunch in the Three Broomsticks was not exactly living high on the hog, but the company more than made up for it. They were early enough to get a choice of seats and Rosie was sensible enough not to repeat her earlier offer. A few well-placed charms kept the nosey away, and if anyone was powerful enough to break through his anti-eavesdropping spell work, they didn’t try and disturb the protections he’d set up. Time passed all too quickly and, although there had been a few awkward silences, the conversation flowed well enough without either of them prying too deep into the areas both of them really wanted to discuss. But they also knew that, even if this was the time, it certainly wasn’t the place for what was bound to be, at times, a very heated and emotional discussion. In the end, it was Harry’s continual yawning that brought their discussions to an end. “Ginny? Is it okay if I send you an owl, now and again? I mean, I don’t want to be a bother, but…” “Yes, Harry, that would be fine.” “Okay. I must be going, but I’ve enjoyed today.” “I have, too.” They stepped outside and stopped by the door, each of them staring everywhere apart from at the other person. “Ginny,” he mumbled as he took a step forward. She looked up and, giving him an encouraging smile, took her own step forward. “I just wanted, I mean, it’s been… well…” She stepped closer, not quite believing what she was sure was about to happen. “Harry…” “Ginny…” “Oi! Potter! I want a word with you!” It was Ron. Not content with having a miserable day himself, he’d decided to ruin her day as well. They both turned towards Ron, who was striding towards them with a determined, but surprisingly not angry look on his face. Before either of them could say anything, he was in front of them and pushing Harry back into the pub. “A word, if you please, Potter. Now!”
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