“I’m sure they’d never go over to You-Know-Who,” said Mr. Weasley, shaking his head. “They’ve suffered losses too. Remember that goblin family he murdered last time, somewhere near Nottingham?”
“I think it depends what they’re offered,” said Lupin. “And I’m not talking about gold; if they’re offered freedoms we’ve been denying them for centuries they’re going to be tempted. Have you still not had any luck with Ragnok, Bill?”
“He’s feeling pretty anti-wizard at the moment,” said Bill. “He hasn’t stopped raging about the Bagman business, he reckons the Ministry did a cover-up, those goblins never got their gold from him, you know —”
A gale of laughter from the middle of the table drowned the rest of Bill’s words. Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus were rolling around in their seats.
“… and then,” choked Mundungus, tears running down his face, “and then, if you’ll believe it, ’e says to me, ’e says, ‘’ere, Dung, where didja get all them toads from? ’Cos some son of a Bludger’s gone and nicked all mine!’ And I says, ‘Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you’ll be wanting some more, then?’ And if you’ll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all ’is own toads back orf me for twice what ’e paid in the first place —”
“I don’t think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus,” said Mrs. Weasley sharply, as Ron slumped forward onto the table, howling with laughter.
“Beg pardon, Molly,” said Mundungus at once, wiping his eyes and winking at Harry. “But, you know, Will nicked ’em orf Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn’t really doing nothing wrong —”
“I don’t know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons,” said Mrs. Weasley coldly.
Fred and George buried their faces in their goblets of butterbeer; George was hiccuping. For some reason, Mrs. Weasley threw a very nasty look at Sirius before getting to her feet and going to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for pudding. Harry looked round at his godfather.
“Molly doesn’t approve of Mundungus,” said Sirius in an undertone.
“How come he’s in the Order?” Harry said very quietly.
“He’s useful,” Sirius muttered. “Knows all the crooks — well, he would, seeing as he’s one himself. But he’s also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don’t. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn’t forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you.”
Three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later and the waistband on Harry’s jeans was feeling uncomfortably tight (which was saying something, as the jeans had once been Dudley’s). He lay down his spoon in a lull in the general conversation. Mr. Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed, Tonks was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal, and Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling butterbeer corks for him to chase.
“Nearly time for bed, I think,” said Mrs. Weasley on a yawn.
“Not just yet, Molly,” said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. “You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.”
The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort’s name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.
“I did!” said Harry indignantly. “I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we’re not allowed in the Order, so —”
“And they’re quite right,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You’re too young.”
She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched upon its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.
“Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?” asked Sirius. “Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen —”
“Hang on!” interrupted George loudly.
“How come Harry gets his questions answered?” said Fred angrily.
“We’ve been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven’t told us a single stinking thing!” said George.
“ ‘You’re too young, you’re not in the Order,’ ” said Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother’s. “Harry’s not even of age!”
“It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,” said Sirius calmly. “That’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand —”
“It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” said Mrs. Weasley sharply. Her normally kindly face looked dangerous. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?”
“Which bit?” Sirius asked politely, but with an air as though readying himself for a fight.
“The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” said Mrs. Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.
Ron, Hermione, Fred, and George’s heads turned from Sirius to Mrs. Weasley as though following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius.
“I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,” said Sirius. “But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back” (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name), “he has more right than most to —”
“He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!” said Mrs. Weasley. “He’s only fifteen and —”
“— and he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,” said Sirius, “and more than some —”
“No one’s denying what he’s done!” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. “But he’s still —”
“He’s not a child!” said Sirius impatiently.
“He’s not an adult either!” said Mrs. Weasley, the color rising in her cheeks. “He’s not James, Sirius!”
“I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,” said Sirius coldly.
“I’m not sure you are!” said Mrs. Weasley. “Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!”
“What’s wrong with that?” said Harry.
“What’s wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. “You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!”
“Meaning I’m an irresponsible godfather?” demanded Sirius, his voice rising.
“Meaning you’ve been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —”
“We’ll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!” said Sirius loudly.
“Arthur!” said Mrs. Weasley, rounding on her husband. “Arthur, back me up!”
Mr. Weasley did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he say, “Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in to a certain extent now that he is staying at headquarters —”
“Yes, but there’s a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!”
“Personally,” said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs. Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, “I think it better that Harry gets the facts — not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture — from us, rather than a garbled version from … others.”
His expression was mild, but Harry felt sure that Lupin, at least, knew that some Extendable Ears had survived Mrs. Weasley’s purge.
“Well,” said Mrs. Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, “well … I can see I’m going to be overruled. I’ll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has got Harry’s best interests at heart —”
“He’s not your son,” said Sirius quietly.
“He’s as good as,” said Mrs. Weasley fiercely. “Who else has he got?”
“He’s got me!”
“Yes,” said Mrs. Weasley, her lip curling. “The thing is, it’s been rather difficult for you to look after him while you’ve been locked up in Azkaban, hasn’t it?”
Sirius started to rise from his chair.
“Molly, you’re not the only person at this table who cares about Harry,” said Lupin sharply. “Sirius, sit down.”
Mrs. Weasley’s lower lip was trembling. Sirius sank slowly back into his chair, his face white.
“I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this,” Lupin continued. “He’s old enough to decide for himself.”
“I want to know what’s been going on,” Harry said at once.
He did not look at Mrs. Weasley. He had been touched by what she had said about his being as good as a son, but he was also impatient at her mollycoddling. … Sirius was right, he was not a child.
“Very well,” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice cracking. “Ginny — Ron — Hermione — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now.”
There was instant uproar.
“We’re of age!” Fred and George bellowed together.
“If Harry’s allowed, why can’t I?” shouted Ron.
“Mum, I want to!” wailed Ginny.
“NO!” shouted Mrs. Weasley, standing up, her eyes overbright. “I absolutely forbid —”
“Molly, you can’t stop Fred and George,” said Mr. Weasley wearily. “They are of age —”
“They’re still at school —”
“But they’re legally adults now,” said Mr. Weasley in the same tired voice.
Mrs. Weasley was now scarlet in the face.
“I — oh, all right then, Fred and George can stay, but Ron —”
“Harry’ll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!” said Ron hotly. “Won’t — won’t you?” he added uncertainly, meeting Harry’s eyes.
For a split second, Harry considered telling Ron that he wouldn’t tell him a single word, that he could try a taste of being kept in the dark and see how he liked it. But the nasty impulse vanished as they looked at each other.
“ ’Course I will,” Harry said. Ron and Hermione beamed.
“Fine!” shouted Mrs. Weasley. “Fine! Ginny — BED!”
Ginny did not go quietly. They could hear her raging and storming at her mother all the way up the stairs, and when she reached the hall Mrs. Black’s earsplitting shrieks were added to the din. Lupin hurried off to the portrait to restore calm. It was only after he had returned, closing the kitchen door behind him and taking his seat at the table again, that Sirius spoke.
“Okay, Harry … what do you want to know?”
Harry took a deep breath and asked the question that had been obsessing him for a month.
“Where’s Voldemort? What’s he doing? I’ve been trying to watch the Muggle news,” he said, ignoring the renewed shudders and winces at the name, “and there hasn’t been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything —”
“That’s because there haven’t been any suspicious deaths yet,” said Sirius, “not as far as we know, anyway. … And we know quite a lot.”
“More than he thinks we do anyway,” said Lupin.
“How come he’s stopped killing people?” Harry asked. He knew that Voldemort had murdered more than once in the last year alone.
“Because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself at the moment,” said Sirius. “It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn’t come off quite the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up.”
“Or rather, you messed it up for him,” said Lupin with a satisfied smile.
“How?” Harry asked perplexedly.
“You weren’t supposed to survive!” said Sirius. “Nobody apart from his Death Eaters was supposed to know he’d come back. But you survived to bear witness.”
“And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore,” said Lupin. “And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once.”
“How has that helped?” Harry asked.
“Are you kidding?” said Bill incredulously. “Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever scared of!”
“Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix about an hour after Voldemort returned,” said Sirius.
“So what’s the Order been doing?” said Harry, looking around at them all.
“Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can’t carry out his plans,” said Sirius.
“How d’you know what his plans are?” Harry asked quickly.
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