Chapter 51- conversation (part 2).

Sunday, July 23, 1995

My arm itches...

Harry Potter twitched reflexively, then lay very still as his awakening brain processed this new information.

Something was moving very slowly and deliberately up his arm.

Spider? he wondered groggily, resisting the urge to twitch again. He'd learned long ago that it was best to stay still when spiders ran across his body. If he jerked suddenly and frightened them, they were far more likely to bite.

As his sleep-fuddled mind became a little more aware, Harry noted that he was stretched out on his side on something very warm and soft. His arm, besides itching, felt slightly cooler than the rest of him.

Hmm. Must be on top of the blanket instead of underneath it, he noted absently.

And whatever was tickling him didn't seem to be a spider after all.

The light touch was about right, but there were no scuttling legs. In fact, it felt more like...hair.

Oh. Right. Must be Patches then, Harry thought with another little flinch as his arm was abandoned, in favor of his ear. That stupid cat just loved to jump onto his bed and tickle him with her whiskers and tail. He made a little sound of protest as the itchy feeling moved very slowly from the top of his ear down to the lobe. It vanished for a second, then it was back, settling lightly on the corner of his jaw, and heading for his chin.

He clumsily waved a hand to shoo her away, and was rewarded with mischievous giggles.

? thought Harry. When did Patches learn to laugh? While he was working on that, the thing came back, brushing maddeningly across his mouth then attacking his nose.

Making another annoyed noise, Harry swiped at his tormentor again, then raked his teeth across his lips and scrubbed his nose with the back of his hand.

More giggles filled his ears. They sounded awfully familiar.

Finally cottoning on to who it must be, Harry opened one eye, and gave Kitty and Becky a mildly reproving glare. Katrina was bending over him, holding a lock of her long brown hair and grinning impishly. Ah. Mystery solved. Rebecca was watching her sister's antics and smiling brightly. Every now and then she would laugh delightedly into her hands.

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, then sat up and scratched his arm. "You could've just given me a shake, you know," he reproved, frowning a bit and blinking a few times.

Kitty shrugged, smiling unrepentantly. "This was more fun."

"Oh, really." Harry arched an eyebrow, devilment creeping into his own expression. "What if I'd have sneezed?" he asked, his tone strongly implying "snot" or "cooties."

He got just the reaction he was looking for. Kitty, who had been threatening to tickle him again, snatched her hair back with a horrified squeak.

Harry grinned then blinked, trying to determine why his eyes felt so horrible. Bleagh! He blinked again, then realized he could see. Ah. He must have fallen asleep in his contacts. Harry winced a little, making a mental note not to do that again. They felt uncomfortably dry, and practically welded to his eyeballs. He blinked again and rubbed his eyes gingerly. Why hadn't he removed them, for Heaven's sake?

Oh, right. He hadn't meant to fall asleep. He'd been planning to wait up for Janet, then make his way back to the Leaky Cauldron when she returned.

So much for that idea.

Before he'd started entertaining the notion of leaving when the Wrights returned, he'd planned on being up and dressed the next morning before the family rose.

Since the girls had obviously awakened first, falling asleep with his contacts in might have been for the best, even if it was a little uncomfortable at the moment. He wasn't sure how he would have explained suddenly having green eyes. More "magic," he supposed.

Stretching, he regarded the two girls in front of him. They were both looking entirely too pleased with themselves, secrets sparkling in their eyes, and conspiratorial smiles on their faces.

Hmm. This must be that "Up To Something" expression Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia always claimed he had.

Funny, he didn't seem to recall ever smiling like that in their presence. In fact, he couldn't remember smiling much at all.

"All right," he finally said, crossing his arms on his chest. "What are you two on about?"

________

Arthur Weasley chuckled to himself as he walked through the mostly-deserted halls of the Ministry of Magic. It had been a busy morning.

He'd been sent over to the Grangers' residence to follow up on the owl Professor Dumbledore received late last night from Hermione.

Arthur smiled, recalling the visit. Greg Granger had been very generous with his knowledge of Muggle appliances, and Helen and Hermione had been a veritable gold mine of information. They could now say with some certainty that Harry was still in Britain. London, in fact, if Hermione's suspicions were correct.

Eager to share the good news, he'd apparated to Arabella's house, as much to lay some of Sirius' fears to rest as to write Albus a note on the charmed parchment. Remus had broken into helpless laughter when Arthur revealed that the "service" Harry had been providing was, in fact, child-minding.

Sirius had looked comically amazed for a couple of seconds before adopting an "I-Knew-It-All-Along" attitude. "I can't believe you were so worried, Moony," he'd teased, eyes alight. "No faith. No faith at all."

"That doesn't even deserve the dignity of a response, Paddy," Remus chided, but he was smiling while he said it. "Now all you have to do is apologize to Harry."

"Aw, come on, Moony. Harry doesn't really have to know, does he?"

"Oh, I suppose not. Besides, think of all the wasted blackmail opportunities..."

Arthur smiled again, gratified that Lupin and Black had been able to get their friendship back on track after the Potter's Secret-Keeper fiasco and all the unpleasantness that ensued. As it turned out, neither man had really wanted to believe ill of the other. Their mutual mistake had been seriously underestimating Peter Pettigrew.

Weasley frowned slightly, remembering the late seventies/early eighties as he continued on his way. Several people, both in and out of the Order had known that Voldemort was targeting the Potters, although only a few knew exactly why.

Unfortunately, as James and Lily were forced to sever more and more ties before eventually going under the Fidelius Charm, the list of likely suspects grew shorter and shorter until only the Marauders were left. Since James Potter was the target, and neither Sirius nor Remus considered Peter Pettigrew to be a threat, they had been forced to consider each other.

Arthur sighed as he entered the lift, and pressed the button for Percy's floor. It had been a mistake. A stupid tragic mistake that'd had horrible repercussions for all involved. Fortunately, things seemed to be sorting themselves out, now. After all Sirius and Remus had gone through, it was nice to see them putting the past behind them and renewing the bonds they'd forged as children and young adults.

Feeling slightly better when he reached his floor, Arthur set out in Percy's general direction, only to be distracted by a light in Amos Diggory's office. Frowning, he ventured closer and peeked in. Sure enough, there was Amos, sitting at his desk, shuffling through some mundane-looking pieces of parchment.

Stifling another sigh, Arthur watched the other wizard, noting the change in him and shaking his head sadly. Amos had always been rather enthusiastic in everything he did. Loud and friendly, he was especially known for his devotion to his only son. He could be a right bore about it, really. As far as Amos Diggory was concerned, the Boy Who Lived himself didn't shine as brightly as his Cedric.

As he discretely regarded the grieving wizard, Arthur found himself wishing he'd been a little more patient in the past. He couldn't bear the thought of losing any of his children. Losing your only one like the Diggorys did must be agony.

Reaching out, he knocked gently on the doorframe. Diggory started a bit at the interruption. "Arthur! What on earth are you doing here?"

"I need to have a quick word with Percy. If he spends any more time here, I think we'll have to move his belongings," Weasley replied, then cringed reflexively when Amos' eyes grew distant for a moment before looking at him again.

"Ah yes, I saw him earlier," Amos said after a few seconds' pause. "Junior Assistant to the Minister...you must be proud."

"I am, thank you," Arthur replied politely. Percy's promotion had actually come as something of a surprise after the Crouch affair. Privately, he suspected Fudge had ulterior motives, and had hired Percy hoping to get insights on Dumbledore's plans. It was a well-established fact that Arthur was close to the Headmaster, after all. He'd never breathed a word to Percy of course, because it was possible he was being paranoid, but the doubt was still there all the same. Fortunately, the Minister's oh-so-transparent motives had been easily thwarted by not discussing Order business at the Burrow-something Arthur did anyway.

Amos nodded noncommittally, continuing to regard Arthur very seriously. The red-haired wizard was beginning to get nervous under his companion's intense scrutiny, when Diggory finally looked away and sighed. "I don't mean to tell you your business, Arthur, but surely you of all people know that the Potter boy is not the way the papers make him out to be."

That was probably the last thing Arthur was expecting Amos to say. He blinked in surprise, then croaked, "What?!"

"Madam Pomphrey and Professor Dumbledore allowed my wife and I to see him the morning after the Third Task," Diggory said, evidently misinterpreting the root of Arthur's dismay. "We were a sight, the lot of us. All three of us grieving and in shock. I couldn't even talk to him properly. He told us what happened, how he and Cedric had agreed to tie. Ced would have let him have it, you know. That was the kind of person he was."

Arthur mentally settled in, content to let Amos speak about his beloved son if he wanted to, but Diggory surprised him by returning to the topic at hand almost immediately. "I could tell when he spoke of it that he regretted his decision, but I can't fault him for wanting to share with my boy," Diggory said softly, speaking again of Harry. "He even tried to give us his winnings."

Amos closed his eyes for a moment, gathering himself, then went on. "He didn't speak a lot about how he managed to get back, although from the looks of him he went through something terrible. He just told us how Cedric...how Cedric had been hit with the Killing Curse..."

"Amos, please, don't do this to yourself," Arthur pleaded when Diggory stuttered to a stop and swallowed with some difficulty. "Harry's my youngest son's best friend. I know he's nothing like the papers say. Truthfully, he doesn't like being the center of attention. I think he finds his fame quite bewildering at times, especially since he grew up in the Muggle world."

"Yes, the more I think on it, the more I'm inclined to agree with you. I let the entire matter go to my head. Expected a fourteen-year-old boy to be adept at handling the press," Diggory admitted, shaking his head ruefully. "I was just trying to look out for my boy's interests. Ced tried to tell me that Harry didn't sign up on his own, and he didn't like all the attention, but I thought he was just being Ced. He almost never spoke ill of anyone. No, all I could see was how the paper praised Harry Potter for being the Hogwarts champion, while Ced was overlooked or thrust into the background." Amos shrugged sadly and was silent for a moment, then he brightened abruptly. "Speaking of Ced, my petition to the Minister to have a memorial service has been approved. We're going to schedule it near the end of summer. Most everyone should be back from holiday, and getting ready to return to school."

Arthur returned his smile. "That's good to hear, Amos," he enthused, privately fuming that it had been necessary at all. In the mad scramble to keep the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament as quiet as possible, Cedric's funeral had been neatly swept under the carpet with the rest of the more "disturbing" details by the Ministry political machine. Cedric had been laid to rest with only a few close family members in attendance, like he was a traitor or criminal, or else had no one to mourn him. That had gone down hard for everyone who knew him well, especially his father. He blinked and turned his attention back to Amos when he realized he was speaking again.

"...think he'd like to attend? Harry, I mean."

"I think he'd like to, but I'm not sure if he'll be able to, circumstances being what they are," Arthur replied, neatly skirting the Boy Who Lived's current "gone missing" and "uncontactable" status.

"I'll forward the request to Professor Dumbledore, then. I'd like to speak to him again, I think, now that a little time has passed. Perhaps I can say more than 'hello' without dissolving into mush." Amos paused, then met Arthur's gaze as something occurred to him. "Funny thing was, I thought I was going to get an opportunity when I ran an errand the other day. There's a boy working in Flourish & Blotts who bears a striking resemblance to him. Black hair, slim build..."

Arthur's interest was piqued at once, but he tried to keep undue eagerness out of his voice. "Really?" he inquired, as one might when keeping up their end of a polite conversation.

Diggory nodded. "It wasn't him, though," he said much to Weasley's disappointment. "The dark eyes were my first hint. He was also taller, and a bit more filled out. His voice was a little deeper too, and he doesn't wear glasses."

Amos paused again with a chuckle. "One of the other clerks noticed me looking at him, and stopped me before I could approach him. Evidently they get that a lot from people who haven't been on the Alley in a while. From what I could tell, it's become something of an inside joke among the staff."

Arthur nodded, filing this information away. They spoke a little more about office matters, and the successful warding of the Diggorys' home, before Arthur turned to leave. "I'll be off then," he said, then paused in the doorway. "I'm supposed to escort my son, Ron, to the Leaky Cauldron a little later. We were thinking of getting a bite. Would you and the Mrs. care to join us?" he asked. The Diggorys hadn't been out much since Cedric's funeral. Obviously he wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Not today, I'm afraid. We're heading over to my parents' for Sunday lunch, and I promised I wouldn't be long," Diggory said, tapping the parchment he was holding into a neat stack. "Another time?"

"At your convenience. Give everyone my best," Arthur said cheerily, waving as he exited Diggory's office and continued down the hall.

As he walked, Arthur wondered a bit about Amos' concern regarding his perception of Harry. Perhaps Percy had said something without thinking. A pro-Potter stance would certainly be unpopular in his current office, and his middle son was pleased with his new position. He had always been extremely conscious of what was and wasn't "proper" as well. Much more so than any of the other children. It was possible he was unwilling to rock the boat or fight office politics-Heaven knew those courses of action had cost Arthur over the years. Sympathy towards Muggles was the equivalent of career suicide in some offices. Still, he had managed and he liked to think he'd made some small difference along the way.

Finally reaching his son's office, Arthur knocked, then opened the door and poked his head in. "Perce?"

"Dad!" Percy said, looking up in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Two things," Arthur responded. "I'd like to know if you'd like to join Ron and me at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, and I have a question from Professor Dumbledore."

"Lunch sounds nice, but I can't today. Loads to do," Percy said, indicating his littered desk with one hand while continuing to write with the other. "About the other," he said, pausing uncomfortably, "you probably should make an appointment to see the Minister."

"I was hoping you might be able to help me out, Percy," Arthur pressed.

Sighing a little irritably, his son put down his quill and laced his fingers. "All right, Dad. What do you need?" he asked, finally meeting his father's gaze.

Arthur cast around a second trying to decide where to begin. "There's been some trouble regarding Harry," he finally stated, but before he could elaborate, Percy spoke again.

"There's always trouble regarding Harry," Percy sighed in a rather put-upon way. "What's he done this time?"

Arthur frowned slightly, not liking Percy's tone. With any of his other boys, the statement would have obviously been made in a joking manner. Percy, on the other hand, sounded dead serious.

"He hasn't done anything," Arthur said a little defensively. He wondered for the first time if seeking Percy's assistance had been such a bright idea, then dismissed the thought. Percy had always been more formal and serious than his siblings.

"Based on some information that has come to his attention, Professor Dumbledore has reason to believe Harry's Archive folder is malfunctioning," he explained.

Percy obviously hadn't been expecting that. "Why does Dumbledore think that?" he asked blankly.

"The evidence suggests his guardians have been negligent," Arthur continued cautiously. "His folder was supposed to alarm if anything unusual happened, and it hasn't," he said, after briefly explaining how the thing had been charmed.

"Maybe his folder hasn't alerted because nothing's wrong," Percy suggested, shrugging unconcernedly.

"That's the assumption people have been working under for the past several years. Actually I think the folder has been silent so long everyone had practically forgotten it. Unfortunately, Harry has been in very real danger during his time at Hogwarts if nothing else, and the thing has never made a sound."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Percy wanted to know. "If you're so worried, just go to the Census Library and Archive on Monday and have someone pull it for you."

"Harry's folder is sealed. We need approval from the Wizengamot and the Minister's Office to access it."

Percy looked scandalized. "Are you suggesting I go behind my superior's back to allow Dumbledore access to a restricted folder? No! Absolutely not! The headmaster can make an appointment and go through proper channels just like everyone else!"

"Well, normally he would, Perce, but this is a bit of an emergency."

"No, Dad. An emergency would be you and I both getting sacked for doing something so stupidly irresponsible!" Percy said, his voice rising angrily. "I'm not risking my position because Dumbledore plays favorites with Harry Potter!"

"What?" Arthur said weakly, unable to believe his ears. "Percy," he started to protest, but his son cut him off.

"Oh, come on, Dad! When I was Prefect, and then Head Boy he got away with murder!" Percy paused a second, then said a little snidely, "Maybe the charms on his folder are intelligent enough to differentiate between 'legitimately threatened' and 'in danger because of lack of judgment'."

"Percy! I know for a fact Harry's uncle barricaded him in his room summer before second year!"

"Oh, don't tell me you've suddenly decided to believe Fred and George's rubbish. Harry illegally levitated a pudding and dumped it on the head of his uncle's dinner guest!" Percy snapped. "He was probably sent to his room and had to go to bed without supper or something. You and Mum would have done the same or worse to any of us!"

"And how do you know that?" Arthur blurted in dismay.

"I've had lunch with Minster Fudge a few times," his son responded, unconsciously sitting a little straighter in his seat. "He's told me a few things, and explained what's really been going on since the Third Task."

Oh, I can't wait for this, Arthur thought dully, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

Percy didn't seem to notice his father's discomfort. He puffed himself up importantly, and plunged in, declaring that Harry had been something of a loose cannon since he was re-introduced to the wizarding world, and it was time someone put a stop to it.

"He got by with a warning over the pudding incident, and he wasn't disciplined at all when he inflated his aunt the following summer. Of course everyone was preoccupied with Sirius Black, so it was an understandable oversight, but now the Minister feels he may have made an error in judgment and unintentionally encouraged Harry's rash behavior by not pressing charges."

What?! Arthur thought again, feeling like the world was unraveling in his hands while his son prattled on about how Harry told tall tales, and Harry loved to be the center of attention, and how the Ministry had been forced to step in after the Third Task to avert a nationwide panic.

"Percy! Harry saw You-Know-Who resurrected, and Cedric Diggory was murdered in cold blood by one of his Death Eaters!" he finally interrupted.

"Yes, well, Minister Fudge took statements from some the 'Death Eaters' Harry supposedly identified," Percy said, holding up both hands and making "quotes" signals with his index and middle fingers when he said 'Death Eaters.' "All of them had perfectly viable alibis. In fact, at least three of them were parents of Slytherin students that Harry is known to feud with."

"You believe Malfoy over Dumbledore?" Arthur nearly shouted, knowing immediately who at least one of these "impeccable" sources had to be.

"Dad, Dad, Dad," Percy sighed pityingly. "I don't know if Dumbledore truly believes Harry, or he thinks stirring up a panic would be a good distraction to cover some botched spell, but there's no doubt the man is finally slipping. Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident and nothing more. Besides, if You Know Who had returned, don't you think someone would have noticed by now?"

Arthur ground his teeth in frustration as any hopes he might have had for sharing the whole truth with his son dissipated like wisps of smoke. Still, he had to get his hands on that folder. "What if Dumbledore's right, Perce? What if the folder is malfunctioning and Harry's relatives are not taking proper care of him?" he asked, trying another route.

"Harry always seems to have everything he needs," Percy retorted, reddening slightly. "Look, I don't blame you for falling for the act," he admitted when his father's mouth fell open in shock. "He's very sincere, very convincing, but the sad fact is, he's been playing all of us for fools! He resents his Muggle relatives, probably because they keep him in line, and he takes advantage of your kindness! Personally, I don't see how can you stand there in good conscience and let Ron continue to associate with him! Ron has been injured and in danger of expulsion more that once because of his friendship with Harry!"

"Your sister is also alive today because of him!" Arthur snapped, then immediately regretted it when hurt flashed across his son's face.

"Oh, so Fred and George and I were wrong for following instructions and going back to the Common Room?" he asked tightly.

Arthur winced. That hadn't come out exactly right. "No, Percy. You couldn't have accessed the Chamber of Secrets even if you'd attempted it. None of us could. The password had to be spoken in Parseltongue! I'm merely grateful that someone was able to help her! When Professor McGonagall contacted us, she was already presumed dead!"

Percy subsided a bit at this. Looking up at his father again, he sighed grudgingly. "All right, Dad. It's been ages since anyone's checked on Harry in person, so I'll put a request in for someone to pay his relatives a visit. If they find signs of neglect, I suppose he'll become a ward of the Ministry until he can be placed with another family or he turns seventeen."

"Don't be ridiculous, Percy! Your mother and I will take him in. The warding on the house is done!" Arthur backpedaled. He wanted the folder, not an inquiry. Fudge was the last person he'd trust with Harry's guardianship. He was already tight with Malfoy. If word got back to You Know Who that Harry was no longer safely behind the blood protection of his relatives, young Potter would be in an obscene amount of danger. Besides which, their carefully orchestrated plan of capturing the dark wizards when they attacked Privet Drive would be completely blown.

"Dad, what's going on?" Percy asked, annoyance glittering in his eyes.

"I..." Arthur faltered. "I'm really not at liberty to say," he finished lamely.

"Look, Dad, no offense, but Dumbledore is skating on very thin ice right now, and if you're not careful he'll pull you in with him. He makes vague accusations without a shred of proof and expects everyone to snap to attention! And if that wasn't bad enough, he's teaching Harry to do the same! I need some evidence. 'Because Dumbledore said so' just isn't good enough!"

"Why on Earth do you think You Know Who would reveal himself?" Arthur hissed, his temper finally beginning to fray. "He isn't having to work at all! Fudge is doing everything for him! The Ministry is generously giving him time to regroup, plan and prepare, AND slandering the two wizards he considers his greatest threats."

Percy was momentarily taken aback by his normally mild-mannered father's vehemence, then his face reddened, and his own "Weasley" temper came to the fore. "You Know Who is dead, Dad! I can't believe you're expending all this energy chasing around after a fairy tale!" He paused and narrowed his eyes resentfully. "This sort of thing was why you've never been able to get ahead!"

"You Know Who was never dead, just banished-and what the bloody hell are you on about?"

"You've allowed things to drag down your career. You've always said what you thought, and done as you wished instead of trying to advance and better yourself. You've concerned yourself with Dumbledore and Muggles, and Harry bloody Potter instead of your own family!" Percy shouted, rising from his chair and slamming his fist down on his desk.

Arthur gaped, dumbfounded as his son's annoyance quickly became a towering fury. It was as if a dam had burst inside Percy, for once he got started he couldn't seem to stop. He raged at how hard he'd had to work to overcome Arthur's "eccentricities" since joining the Ministry, and how he was never the favored child no matter how hard he tried, and how his parents and the rest of the whole bloody family bent over backwards for the Boy Who Lived. He railed at always having to make do with shoddy second-hand school materials and accused Arthur and Molly of gross irresponsibility for having such a large family. When he finally vowed that he would play the game and attend required dinner parties, and do what he had to do to succeed so that any children he might have would always be well provided for, and have the best materials available, the long fuse of Arthur's temper finally burned to the end.

Beyond furious, Arthur eyed his son coldly, and before he could stop himself, he spoke the words he'd kept to himself until now, to wit: "You got this cushy job because Fudge a wanted connection to Dumbledore."

Percy stilled, anger and hurt and utter betrayal written all over his face. "No," he finally denied. "No! I've worked hard! I've done a good job! The minister picked me specifically! He said he thought I had potential!"

"No on goes directly from an entry-level job to the Minister's office-especially on the heels of a fiasco like the Crouch affair!" Arthur retorted. "But since I'm obviously wasting my breath and your precious time, I'll state my business and go." Arthur paused for a moment, gathering himself, then continued in a clipped tone, counting points off on his fingers. "First, there's no need to send a representative to the Dursleys. We know they have been mistreating Harry and evidence is being gathered as we speak. Second, Harry's folder needs to be looked after, so would you be good enough to schedule an appointment with the Minister for me or Professor Dumbledore? You may not care, but I will not tolerate Harry or any child being mistreated."

"Oh, so that's why you always let my brothers call me 'pompous' and 'arrogant' and 'conceited'?" Percy said resentfully, leafing through an appointment book. Finding an empty slot, he scribbled Dumbledore's name in, then filled out an appointment card and slid it across the desk to his father. "Now if there's nothing further..."

"No, Percy. Nothing at all," Arthur replied, quietly turning to leave.

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