Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter Three - Old Friends and New Faces

Harry awoke to find a pair of wide watery eyes watching him. "Dobby! I told you never to do that again. Poke me in the side next time or something!" Harry never reacted well to finding someone standing over him first thing in the morning. "Dobby is sorry sir, but Dobby only wanted to apologise to Harry Potter for missing his birthday celebration and wished to give him his present," said the elf whilst holding up a hastily wrapped package. 'Not socks again!' thought Harry to himself. To Dobby he merely said, "Thanks Dobby, you shouldn't have."

"But Dobby should have sir! Dobby cannot, not give Harry Potter a present. Dobby is forever in Harry Potter's debt for freeing him from his family."

"Dobby, it's just an expression. It means thank you." Dobby was obviously unaccustomed to being talked to nicely. Who wouldn't be if they used to be a slave for one of the most horrible wizarding families, the Malfoy's? Large tears welled in the elf's eyes, but Dobby managed not to start bawling, like he had done two years ago standing in Dudley's second bedroom, back at Privet Drive. "Harry Potter is still as generous to Dobby as he always was!"

"Of course I am Dobby, you're my friend," replied Harry, realising for the first time that what he had said was entirely true. Dobby was Harry's friend.

Ten minutes later Harry was sitting in the kitchen downstairs eating scrambled eggs and toast, Dobby standing in the chair beside him, explaining the real reason he was at the Burrow. "Master Dumbledore gave Dobby a very important job. He said I was no longer needed to work in the kitchens, but to do something for him that Dobby has always wanted to do."

"What's that then Dobby?" mumbled Harry, halfway through a slice of thickly buttered toast. "Master Dumbledore asked Dobby to tend to Harry Potter's needs sir, and to always protect him. He said Harry Potter sir, that Dobby would be working for Harry Potter but would still get paid by Master Dumbledore. You is Dobby's new master sir!" decreed Dobby proudly, standing straight backed and looking at Harry in awe.

"Wha…? You mean you work for me now?" asked Harry, ambivalence creeping into his gut. On the one hand Harry was extremely pleased that Dobby would be helping him all the time. On the other hand however, doubt left a cold feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach. Almost every time Dobby had tried to "help" him, something bad had happened to him. Like the time Dobby had enchanted a bludger, the whole event culminating in the loss of all the bones within Harry's right arm. Admittedly the real culprit for that particular malady had been none other than Gilderoy Lockhart, the biggest fraud in the whole wizarding world, but the fact remained that if it hadn't been for Dobby his arm would never have been broken in the first place.

"Of course Dobby works for Harry Potter sir. Dobby will not let his Masters down, no sir!"

"Er, I'm not sure what to say Dobby," replied Harry, uncertainty slithering into his voice. Dobby was too busy beaming up at Harry to notice this.

Suddenly there was a loud pop which Harry immediately recognised as the sound of someone apparating close by. "Hello Harry, I see Dobby has prepared breakfast for you."

"Dobby takes his duties seriously Master Dumbledore, you knows that!"

"Yes Dobby I do, if it is not too much trouble could you prepare some pancakes with a light drizzling of maple syrup," said Dumbledore quietly. Upon seeing Harry's quizzical expression he explained, "One of my favourite meals, I once tried them in Canada many years ago, since then I have never missed a single breakfast." Harry knew Dumbledore had had a sweet tooth ever since his first year when the headmaster had visited him in the hospital wing. Even his password to his office was usually the name of some obscure sweet that happened to take Dumbledore's fancy. "I believe that Sirius will be joining us shortly but first," mumbled Dumbledore, "food." Harry smiled, Dumbledore never failed to find some way to make Harry feel better, no matter how happy he was.

Then came another pop, louder than the first. Harry's jaw dropped to the floor. "Hello Harry, it's been quite awhile since last we talked." Remus Lupin, in Harry's opinion the greatest Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher he had ever known, was standing in front of the kitchen sink, looking as dishevelled as ever. Harry noticed a few extra grey hairs beginning to show at his temples.

"Remus!" Harry nearly bowled his father's friend over as he scrambled towards him, enveloping the taller man in a tight hug. "Wow, it's good to see you too," Remus managed to squeeze out, sounding delighted. "What about me then Harry, or doesn't your godfather deserve a hug also?" chuckled Sirius, his long black mane waving about his head. "Of course you do, it's just I haven't seen Remus in over a year. I kinda think he deserves the hug more than you, or are you just trying to hog your godson all to yourself?" Harry asked wickedly, a playful glint to his green eyes. "Not at all Harry, I just think you should share yourself out a bit more, most of your hugs go out to Molly, Ginny and Hermione." Harry had almost forgotten Sirius' sense of humour, humour that made him seem as if he were still a sixteen year old, but the mention of Ginny and Hermione sent the blood rushing to his face.

Stepping over towards the window in order to escape the stares of his parents' best friends, he had to duck suddenly to avoid being hit in the face by what can only be described as a ball of flying feathers. Recognising the owl, for that is what it was, as Errol the Weasley's family owl, Harry stooped low to carefully cradle him and placed him on the kitchen table. Pouring a small droplet of water from a nearby jug into Errol's beak, the dilapidated bird woke up with a pathetic screech and attempted to stand upright. Failing miserably at this, Harry decided to help him by propping him up on his perch only to stop before he'd even raised a hand. Tied to Errol's leg was a letter. A letter addressed to Albus Dumbledore.

"Er, Professor Dumbledore sir, Errol has just delivered a letter addressed to you."

"Ah, I was beginning to wonder when that poor bird would return. I sent him off day's ago when last I was here." Seeing the confused looks the three wizards around him were sporting, Dumbledore continued, "As you all know last month after Voldemort's return and the parting of the ways between Mr. Fudge and myself, I asked certain people to perform dangerous missions for the safety of our world. Young Sirius here completed his task far quicker than the others. Needless to say, this year at Hogwarts we are without two much-needed professors."

Over the next five minutes the headmaster explained how he had sent messages to two people whom he knew quite well, and trusted implicitly. Both people it turned out had graduated from Hogwarts but both leaving England for overseas, one returning to her native Canada ('That explains why Dumbledore likes pancakes and maple syrup' thought Harry) while the other had relocated to Philadelphia taking on a job perfectly suited to her talents.

"Wait a minute," both Sirius and Remus asked, "You can't be talking about Kim and Chelle, can you?"

Dumbledore answered, a familiar twinkle in his eyes, "Indeed I am my esteemed friend's. Your classmates will be returning to Hogwarts, and Harry and his fellow students will have the pleasure of being taught by them. They are perhaps the most qualified people in their fields of expertise other than Severus and Hagrid themselves."

Not long after finishing his pancakes and thanking Dobby, Albus Disapparated, returning to Hogwarts. Harry, Remus and Sirius spent the next hour talking about what his new professors would be like. Whenever either of them mentioned Kimberly Ward Sirius' eyes glazed over and he appeared to be in a world of his own, a huge boyish grin spreading across his face from ear to ear. Remus was much the same whenever they mentioned Michelle Rinier. It was the same glazed look that Harry had seen plastered across his friend Ron's face whenever he had glimpsed Fleur Delacour last year. Fleur was an extremely attractive 18-year old witch from Beauxbatons in France, a kind of foreign version of Hogwarts. Miss Delacour also happened to be part Veela and so caused the hearts of men around her to flutter, much like any beautiful woman would.

Harry had the distinct feeling that his two companions were remembering times gone by, and more likely than that, remembering lost loves. Harry didn't dare ask if this were true though, instead intending to change the subject. Before Harry could even open his mouth though, the Weasley family finally decided to wake up and repopulate the lower floor of their house.

A few days later, Harry found himself covered in sweat and shaking furiously. Placing his glasses on his nose, he was mortified to find that the world refused to focus and stop spinning. Outside the window in Ron's bedroom Harry could still determine that it was nighttimes, mostly due to the fact that a huge white semi-circular blob floated dead centre beyond the glass. Removing his bed covers Harry stood unsteadily and gradually half walked half stumbled towards the bathroom. The moment he reached for the door handle his head began to hurt. Forcing himself over in front of the mirror Harry nearly fainted. His scar was emanating a glorious golden light that grew in brightness, bathing the room in warmth. Harry refocused his eyes on the mirror and again was shocked to see something else different about his appearance. His eyes changed colour from their usual emerald brilliance to a shade of blue so deep they were almost black and he appeared to grow several inches. He found himself staring at a reflection that was not his own.

The sight looked oddly familiar though Harry couldn't place where from. Harry slowly closed his eyes for the golden light was now extremely bright. He felt a wave of tiredness break over him then, making him unsure whether or not he had actually heard something. Recognition came to Harry then. He had heard it only twice before in his life, but knew what it was instantly. Phoenix song. Again the tiredness fell over Harry, but he resisted, wanting desperately to hear all of the song. A third time he felt the tiredness, this time however it was too much for him.

By the morning he had found himself getting out of bed and rushing downstairs to eat the breakfast Dobby had kindly prepared for him. Harry had forgotten about the previous night's event completely.

Early on the morning of August the 12^th, Harry and Ron rushed downstairs, fully clothed and their Hogwarts cloaks wrapped around their necks. Today they were all travelling to Diagon Alley to pick up their school supplies. Sirius was also coming but was going to apparate there into an alleyway behind Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, before transforming into Padfoot. He didn't want to let Harry out of his sight, knowing that although over a month and a half had passed without so much as a murmur of Voldemort's name, Sirius didn't want to take any chances.

"These books are going to cost a bloody fortune mum!" said Ron looking over his book list. Going to Diagon Alley was always a nice experience for Harry, but for the Weasley's it meant even more money would be leaving their vault in Gringott's. Harry had inherited a vast amount of money from his parents and would have willingly shared it all with the Weasley's, but for some reason unknown to Harry, they had always declined his offers of financial help. This always made Harry feel extremely guilty whenever he went to vault 687, the huge pile of gold, silver and bronze coins wider than Harry was tall never seemed to diminish no matter how much Harry spent. Harry wished his friends would accept his money.

Sirius was the first to leave; throwing a quick glance at Harry that seemed to scream 'don't do anything stupid unless I'm around to save you'. Soon after, Harry was reunited with 'Snuffles' and sat down to eat a complimentary ice cream.

That was the nice thing about Florean Fortescue. A little over two years ago, after Harry had ran away from the Dursley's, Cornelius Fudge had managed to find him and to procure him a room at The Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the summer holidays. Everyday Harry would enter Diagon Alley and roam around, wandering from shop to shop. Florean had seen Harry every day and had offered to keep the young boy company, as it was extremely boring for a thirteen year old with no one to talk but a snowy owl. Talking with Florean had not only brought a sense of well being back to Harry, he'd also helped him with his summer homework from Hogwarts. As such spending many lunches with him discussing the finer points of a Mint-flavoured Triple Choc Chip Challenge, Harry had formed a sort of bond with the portly gentleman. Now every time Harry visited Diagon Alley he was always given free delights.

A little later on, after returning from Gringott's with their money bags heavier and their vaults decidedly emptier (except Harry's of course!) Hermione, Ron, Harry and Snuffles said goodbye to the other members of the Weasley clan. The first shop they walked past was one Harry never missed a chance at looking in. Quality Quidditch Supplies. Snuffles' ears picked up when they neared the front window. "Bloody hell Harry, two years it's been out and still no-ones built a better model! The Quidditch Cup's ours again!" exclaimed a clearly delighted Ron. Snuffles' tail was wagging so fast it looked like someone had taken a metronome and over wound it.

There in the window was The Firebolt; still the best racing broom in the whole of the wizarding world, and Harry had owned one ever since his third year at Hogwarts, thanks to Sirius.

Harry was ecstatic. Not only was he the Seeker and recently crowned Captain of his house Quidditch team, he was also the proud owner of an international standard broom, he had been given his very own Golden Snitch, and lastly he now owned a book that would allow him to plan ahead all the teams strategies without leaving the ground.

Looking past the glowing broom Harry peered further into the shop, mentally browsing through the products on offer. Seeing a pair of new Seeker gloves that he thought would go nicely with his snitch, he stopped abruptly when his gaze wandered upon a very pretty face. A face that Harry had dreaded seeing again, not because of whom it was but because of the memories it stirred within him. Memories he had tried so hard to forget over the past month and a half.

A pair of expressionless grey eyes moved lazily into his vision, an image of a boy just over two years older than himself floating aimlessly in front of him. Tears started to well up at the corners of his eyes. Hermione noticed and was about to ask what was wrong when she saw who Harry had been looking at. Cho Chang.

If it were possible (Harry didn't know or care) Hermione's eyes would have blazed with barely controlled anger. Harry was too busy wiping the salty mist away from his emerald eyes to notice this before Hermione relaxed. 'Why am I getting angry with Cho, just because I saw Harry looking at her? Or maybe it's because he almost cried when he looked at her?' thought Hermione. She didn't know what to believe, and found she didn't actually care about it. Turning to Harry she placed a hand gently on his arm, "Hey Harry lets go to Zonko's, see what new ideas they've come up with."

"Good idea Hermione," replied Ron. He too had noticed Harry gazing at Cho. "Come on Harry, what d'you say?" Harry was beyond words and simply nodded his agreement. The trio, followed closely by Snuffles at Harry's side, wandered towards an old building with a sign that was so battered and bruised you could hardly see the name. Obviously most of the inventions within were first tested on the outside of the building.

Pushing themselves past twelve elderly witches gathered directly in front of the entrance, Harry and his friends managed to squeeze themselves into the joke shop. The walls were overflowing with dozens of items of weird and wonderful descriptions. As soon as they looked at one thing another caught their eye. The customers in the shop gave Snuffles a wide berth, as he continued to beat his tail from side to side like a whirling dervish. His eyes were brighter than Harry had ever seen. Harry realised at that point that he was more mature than his godfather who had two-dozen more years of experience. Sirius had the mind and maturity a young boy trapped in the body of a man who could turn himself into a dog.

"Hey Harry! Ron! Hermione!" At the end of one particularly long aisle were 3 people Harry had never met outside of Hogwarts or the Quidditch World Cup last year. Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom sauntered their way past a stand of fake broomsticks labelled in sand-coloured writing 'Black Hawk Down', and stood in front of Harry and his friends.

"How are you Harry?" asked Neville. He'd grown an inch since last Harry had seen him. Harry also noticed that Neville seemed to be less nervous outside of school than in. 'Although maybe that's got more to do with our letter's saying we've got a new Potions teacher' thought Harry. "Are the Muggles treating you any better yet?" wondered Dean. "I'm doing great guys. I don't have to worry about the Dursley's for another year; I'm staying with Ron."

Seamus spoke up then. "Hope Quidditch is back on this year. I mean the Tri-Wizard Tournament was brilliant but it can't beat Quidditch. I mean look at the World Cup last year; that was amazing wasn't it, what with Ireland being World Champions now." (He said this with pride positively flowing from his open mouth).

At the mention of the tournament Harry looked at his feet but quickly turned to Ron with a smile in his eyes at the mention of Quidditch. Ron nearly burst out laughing, before Hermione punched him in the arm. It was obvious that the only people who knew of Harry's appointment as Gryffindor captain were the teachers, the team, and Harry's closest friends; his family.

"Did I miss something?" Seamus asked quizzically.

Later that day Ron was whisked away by Fred and George, each grabbed an arm and were dragging him towards a familiar building, the shop looked suspiciously like Madam Malkins', while Ron shouted over his shoulder, "I'll meet you back at the Leaky Cauldron…"

Harry was now alone with Snuffles and Hermione. "So Hermione where d'you want to go?" asked Harry, already knowing the answer before she opened her mouth. In fact he had already started inching in the general direction when she answered, "Flourish & Blotts-" she began. "'Where else?'" finished Harry, imitating her voice as best he could, earning himself a playful punch on the arm.

As they neared the doorway Harry could hear faint voices from within. "…What do you need more jokes for, you've already got more pranks than Zonko's stock in a year!" said the muffled voice of a boy. "Because Jonathan, 'Because'!" replied an equally muffled female voice. Harry was about to open the door one-armed (he was carrying a whole bunch of practical jokes from Zonko's in his left arm) when the door opened abruptly and out stepped a tall dark haired boy and a slightly shorter dark haired girl. Both appeared old enough to be sixth years and were wearing glasses. The boy was still looking at the girl beside him and so didn't notice poor Harry right in front of him until the girl screamed, "Look out Jonathan!" and he collided painfully with Harry.

"Here, let me pick up those things for you," said the longhaired girl, stooping over and gathering some of Harry's items. Without a single person noticing she surreptitiously hid a few of them in the pockets of her robes. Looking over her shoulder she spoke to the other boy, "Jonathan, I knew you had bad eyesight but I was pretty sure you could see things right in front of your face!"

Although Harry had just been knocked unceremoniously to the floor, he had to cover his obvious laugh with a cough that sounded more false than one of Professor Trelawny's predictions of Harry's death. The girl, it seemed, had a sense of humour to rival Sirius'.

"Er, I'm truly sorry about that. If there's anything I can do t-" began Jonathan. "Yeah, you can help me up. The ground's not exactly the most comfortable place to lie down on." Jonathan, with a sheepish look upon his face, held out an arm towards Harry who gratefully took it. As Harry stood up he saw the sixth years face properly for the first time. What he saw shocked him.

He didn't know the reason, but Jonathan looked extremely familiar, the deep blue eyes and dark hair. If Harry didn't know any better he'd have said he was standing face to face with Tom Riddle. There were subtle differences though, his hair was styled more like Harry's and his face was slightly thinner. Also the fact that Tom Riddle hadn't needed to wear glasses discredited this assumption. The person in front of him had warmth in his eyes that Harry felt sure he'd seen before. A memory was edging into his conscious mind but wouldn't surface; a feeling that he could see a golden light, hear a familiar deep voice. Harry suddenly felt tired.

"Whoa there!" said Jonathan, catching Harry's arm again as he nearly fell back to the floor, "I didn't run into you that hard. Did I?" the last question he aimed at the girl beside him. "Well sometimes you don't know your own strength Jonathan," said the girl, a teasing look in her eyes.

"No, it wasn't that, I just suddenly felt tired that's all. Must've been a long day," he lied, straightening up quickly and causing his arm to loosen from Jonathan's grip.

"Hey, wait a minute. You're Harry Potter aren't you? You're the reason my House hasn't won the school Championship for the past four years!" exclaimed the girl, her voice rising in pitch with obvious anger.

"Clara, as I keep telling you Harry's not the only reason why Slytherin keep losing. It's mostly the fault of a certain individual who shall remain nameless," Jonathan coughed loudly at this point, a cough that sounded remarkably like 'Malfoy!' and continued talking. "And the fact that you're all a bunch of…" he stopped suddenly because Clara was looking him square in the eyes with a face that practically screamed 'You finish that sentence and it'll be the last thing you do!' Jonathan quickly changed his mind. "…Lovely people?" he replied timidly, staring Clara deeply in the eyes. In an instant the icy demeanour she had just had melted, as she wrapped her arms around Jonathan's neck and pulled him into a deep embrace.

Not wanting to see where this was leading Harry said "Goodbye!" and hurriedly pulled Hermione and Snuffles into the surprisingly quiet bookshop.

"What was all that about?" asked Harry, completely puzzled. "I don't know Harry. I was too busy staring at Jonathan. He looks familiar but I don't know where from. I mean I know he's a Gryffindor prefect and all, but I mean his face just looks really familiar," replied Hermione. Snuffles made a low growling noise from the back of his throat. "Do you recognise him Snuffles?" a quick shake of the head revealed his answer. "Okay does he look familiar then?" a short bark told Harry what he wanted to know. Sirius also felt Jonathan looked familiar but like Hermione and himself, his godfather was unable to place where from.

"Wait a minute, I just realised something else. You said he was a Gryffindor didn't you Hermione?" She nodded. "Well what on Earth was he doing walking about with a Slytherin for?!" asked Harry, barely able to constrain his utter disbelief at the older students.

"Not all Slytherin's are bad Harry, that's just being prejudiced. If Jonathan can see past her house then why can't you?" She knew it was a stupid question to ask before she'd opened her mouth, but the words poured unbidden nonetheless. Of course Harry was prejudiced against the Slytherin's. Lord Voldemort himself had been a Slytherin and had turned out to be the last surviving descendant of one of four original Hogwarts founders, Salazar Slytherin. Lastly, but not least, Draco and Lucius Malfoy were another reason for Harry's hatred for all things serpentine.

Harry turned to stare at Hermione then, his emerald eyes ablaze with an inner fire that seemed to radiate an indefinable sense of power through every line on his face. It was the kind of look that Harry had seen Dumbledore wear only twice before, and both times within the same day, the day of the Third Task. Immediately with the resurfacing of that memory the fire in his eyes died and he turned away, not wanting Hermione of all people to see the pained expression on his face. She laid a hand on his shoulder and turned him around, pulling him into a tight hug. "I'm sorry Harry, I know I shouldn't have said that, but I was just trying to make a point."

"I know and I shouldn't have gotten angry at you, it's just really hard for me to think of anyone who could be sorted into that house as having good qualities."

"Why don't we forget about it then? Come on lets go pick up the books on our prefect lists." Pulling out his letter, Harry became confused. 'Why would we need more books just because we're prefects?' thought Harry. He didn't have long to ponder this as Hermione had grabbed his arm and was dragging him past shelves and shelves of books. Harry looked more closely at the letter when they had stopped moving.

You will be required to read the following items before starting your duties. Some are books that will give you an insight into how prefects of years gone by operated others will help you to decide what ways of dealing with rule breaking you might use.

'Troublesome Students and How To Deal With Them Now Your Not One of Them' by Percy Rankster

'What Punishments Can You Give?' by Diggory Tentions

'My Life As A Prefect' by Pontius R. Emmel-Fect

Looking up from his letter, Harry saw three unwelcome people stalking towards them from the opposite end of the aisle.

"If it isn't the mudblood! And look, Scarhead! I thought you'd be in Azkaban after what you did to Ced-"

Suddenly the voice stopped, mainly because Sirius had started to advance on the owner, his teeth bared and his hackles raised. A low growl escaped his throat. "Snuffles, no! Come back here!"

"Wha… What is that thing Potter?" faltered Draco Malfoy, a look of fear in his eyes. Too soon for Harry, the son of a death eater regained his momentary loss of courage in time to spew out, "Yet another protector for you is it? What, are you so weak you need a dog to fight your battles for you?" before Harry had to grab the nape of Snuffles' neck hard to prevent him from mauling Draco then and there. There was a bloodthirsty look in his eyes that disappeared before Harry could see.

The blond-haired boy backed up slowly. His two gormless bodyguards remained rooted to the spot, as if their shoes had been glued to the floor. "You should have that thing put down Potter if you can't keep it controlled properly. Come on Crabbe. Goyle. We're leaving," sneered Draco, eyeing Sirius warily he spun round and stormed away. Crabbe and Goyle were too stupid to notice their master's disappearance and actually moved towards Harry.

In an instant they were unconscious on the floor, Harry unable to keep his hold on Snuffles. His godfather hadn't done anything more than jump at them, causing the poor imitation's of trolls to trip backwards over their cloaks and knock their heads hard on the floor.

Both Hermione and Harry had creased up with laughter and Snuffles was waving his tail so fast it was a blur.

Back at the Leaky Cauldron Ron was sitting down with a glazed look in his eye and a smile on his lips, "Crabbe and Goyle unconscious. That's just like the time Professor Moody turned Malfoy into the amazing bouncing ferret." An image of Draco as a pure white ferret bouncing ten feet in the air and hitting a stone floor repeatedly, brought a smile to Harry's lips also.

"Harry, do you mind putting that memory into your pensieve so that I can see it again and again?" asked Ron suddenly. Not wanting to think about his pensieve, Harry quickly changed the subject. Ron, still with the glazed look in his eyes didn't notice Harry's deflection of the question he asked.

"So where did Fred and George spirit you off to?"

"What? Oh that, no Fred and George took me to Madam Malkins and bought me some new dress robes. Hang on a sec, I'll go and get them," said Ron, standing up. As he started moving towards where Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were sitting, Hermione spoke up, "What, you're going to show them off in front of the whole pub?"

Ron blushed a shade of red so deep he looked like a radish with freckles. "Oops," he mumbled. "I think I'll wait til we get back home then."

Stepping out of the fireplace a short time later Harry was struck by the sound of laughter, as Sirius had fallen over onto the sofa, unable to stop himself from giggling. "The look in their eyes Harry!" he managed to spurt out between hearty guffaws, "Priceless!".

Ron rushed upstairs shouting behind him, "I'm gonna go try on my new dress robes, everyone wait where you are!"

Looking over to Fred and George, Harry saw a look of pride in their eyes. Noticing Harry staring at them George whispered into his ear, "He still thinks we paid for it with Bagman's money Harry." Fred continued, "Don't worry though, we didn't spend that much on the broom and robes, in fact we got the broom second hand off of a friend for only one hundred and fifty galleons."

Harry suppressed a smile at this. He did wonder who the friend was that could afford to sell a Nimbus 2001 for less than the five hundred galleons they cost first-hand. He voiced this thought to the twins.

"Jonathan Clift. Seems he was given it for Christmas, and kept it because he didn't want to insult his family. He's scared of heights and can barely walk up the stair's at Hogwarts without some sort of charm on him."

Harry almost burst out with laughter, like Sirius had done, at the thought of Jonathan having to charm himself every time he had to climb a set of stairs. At that point, Ron clambered down the staircase to the tune of the twins whistling the bridal march. Molly shot them a withering stare that shut them up just as Ron came into to view. He was wearing robes of similar cut to Harry's. The only difference being that Ron's were about six inches longer and were a dark navy in colour.

"Oh they look lovely dear! How did you afford those, they must have cost more money than you've saved up. Wait a minute, have you been accepting money from Harry, Ronald Weasley!" shouted his mother. Red splotches were forming on her cheeks as she bellowed.

"No Mum!" Ron shouted back. "Fred and George bought it with the money they got back from Ludo Bagman, didn't you guys?" He shot them a pleading look, which fortunately Molly didn't witness, as she had rounded on the twins.

"Yep, we sure did. Got our money back from Bagman a week after school finished. Seems he managed to find some money he'd stored away and paid off everyone he owed money to. The goblins nearly caught him for forgetting the interest. Very clever those goblins aren't they Bill?"

Harry had to admit that although the twins didn't get too many O.W.L's they were still quick on their feet when it came to excuses and shifting attention from themselves.