Grampa Prewitt's Revenge

Ron's moving about gains my attention. I stopped off at his place last night, tired of pacing in my own flat, trying to figure out what to do. I haven't gone to Diagon Alley yet, to check out that Poliakoff Specialties place that the witch at Bantum Woods told me to go to yet. But I've heard about their brooms. Expensive. And I'm not going to spend a lot of Galleons on a broom right now.

I look up from the Quidditch Magazine, the one talking about the teams for next year, and twist a bit to see Ron. I can't see him from where I'm sitting, but he's around somewhere. Can't mistake his footsteps.

"You need help?"I call out, half way curious by whatever he's doing.

"Nah, 's all right," he calls back. "Be back out there in just a minute."

I hear some more shuffling around, then a loud bang, a foul word or two from Ron (predictably), and in a few minutes, he appears, as promised.

"Can't find the bloody box," he says, standing there shaking his head. "I coulda sworn I moved all that stuff outta the Burrow, but I reckon I didn't move that, from the looks of it."

I frown, tossing the Quidditch magazine back on the couch. "What box? Anything important inside?"

Across from me, he throws himself into an old armchair he's got and sinks nearly to the floor. "Ruddy load of rubbish, most people would say, if they saw it. Old newspapers, pieces of this and that, bottle corks, things from friends when I was maybe...four. You know, the sorts of things you know you ought to chuck, but you go to chuck them and you just can't. One of those boxes."

I stare at Ron. "Cupboard under the stairs until I was eleven," I say simply. "Wish I did have something like that though... if you want it, just go to the Burrow." I notice his hesitation at that and I smirk. "Haven't been there in a bit have you? Don't feel like running into your Mum and explaining just why her baby boy hasn't been by lately?" I could say what Fred and George call him, but I don't feel like being popped..or popping him back. First time I ever punched Ron was fourth year, after he apologized. He punched me right back and Hermione yelled at us, then healed our noses.

"Yeah, something like that," he says quietly with a frown, meaning I nailed his problem in one.

I'll bet I know just what's coming next too. "Harry?" he says, his voice much lighter now. "I know you haven't got work or anything to worry about right now, so, er..."

I just KNOW what he's going to ask me. No need to have him do it. "I'll come."

And now...the grin of relief. "Aw, thanks, Harry! You don't know how much better that makes me feel!"

I bet it does. I run interference for him, get coddled by Molly Weasley, while he does his search. And Molly's going to be all fussy, especially with the new of my suspension. Probably even worse when she and Sirius fought about my right to know what was going on my fifth year. I sigh. The things I do for my best friend. In all honesty, I don't know what I would have done all those years without Ron, his Mum, and the rest of the Weasley's. I just still don't know how to take the fussing.

"Oh I can imagine." I stand up. "Come on, I'm not even bother going to try to brush my hair or anything else. The more harried I look, the more your Mother fusses and it'll give you time to look for what you need without being bothered."

Harry and I Apparate into the orchard, just so we can kinda sneak up onthe whole experience of going back to the Burrow. Yeah, he was right when he said it'd been a while, even for me. Good of him to come along, since I know he's always kinda on the fence about putting up with being fussed over by Mum.

"Weird to be walking back there, eh?" I ask, as we get closer to the house.

"Weird but good. One thing that doesn't change."

"Nope," I agree. "Hasn't changed ever that I remember - even all that time we were on the Horcrux hunt. We come back, and it still looks like we left it. But I reckon that's a good thing, really.

"Good thing," Harry agrees with a slight smile and we make our way to the front door, both of us nearly getting clocked before we remember to duck.

Neither one of us has said a word about it but I notice we're both being unusually quiet. Suddenly we hear sounds coming from the kitchen. "Need a deep breath before we go on, mate?"

"No, that just might make it easier for my ribs to break when she hugs me," he says in a half joking manner.

"We're Aurors, Harry," I tell him. "We can do this." Then we both grin at one another and head off for the kitchen.

In all the seventeen years I lived at the Burrow, I don't think I've quite seen what we see when we walk through the door. Mum's there in dressing gown and slippers, shuffling around the kitchen, looking like she just woke up from the dead. Her hair's a great halo around her head, reminding me of the way Hermione's hair was in the first few years before she started taking the time to mind it. It's about tea time, so it's not surprising to see the kettle steaming, but the bangers, mash, and toast lumped onto a plate is a bit weird for the middle of the afternoon.

I'm not really sure who made the noise, I could've sworn neither of us did, but suddenly Mum turns around. "Oh!" she half shrieks, half yawns. "Merlin! Boys, I didn't...oh, I must look a state! Come in. I'll make you something."

"Uhhh... we can come back later," Harry says quickly. I notice he's doing what I'm doing.. not looking at Mum.

"Oh, don't be silly Harry, dear," she says, beckoning to us with both hands, like she's trying to pull us toward her. "Come in, give us a hug, and sit down so I can feed you something. You look half starved. Don't you eat enough?

Here we go already, having to jump in before she smothers poor Harry. "He eats fine, Mum. You shoulda seen us polish off half of everything the Chinese restaurant makes the other night, so I know he's not starved."

"A restaurant," she tisks. "Really Ron, a restaurant is no substitute for a good home-cooked meal. Now you sit your bottoms down in these chairs or am I going to have to put a sticking charm on them?"

"No need for sticking charms," Harry says hastily. "Just.. didn't want to interrupt your day when you aren't ready--"

"Oh come now," she says, moving briskly to the ice box for some eggs, though I can see she's still sort of dragging. "I need to get up sometime, don't I? And I really can't stand to stay asleep when there's all this lovely sun out. Do be a dear and fetch me some potatoes."

All of a sudden I remember why Mum's timer would be out of whack. "You still working that job with the vampires, Mum? Did you have to work last night?" I listen as I walk into the pantry and fish out some potatoes, then hand them to her.

"Not last night, dear, but today is a work day. Dear little Luna, her business is still having that terrible trouble with the Ministry, but she's assured us she can give us normal hours come mid-July. Though I do say, it is nice being awake in the day once in a while."

"Ergh," I say. "Yeah the Ministry's just popular all around these days, eh Harry?"

Harry scowls. "What trouble with the Ministry? What's happened with Luna?" he asks. "I need to find a life size poster of Minister Smith and some darts," Harry mutters to my comment as a plate of food is put in front of him.

"She's being sued, the poor dear," Mum clicks her tongue. "But her lawyer assures her it will be taken care of, so don't you worry about it."

"Yeah, well I hope her lawyer knows what kind of rubbish the Ministry tries to get away with these days," I say, digging into the plate Mum gave me, and loving every bite. "Pardoning Death Eaters, suspending -" Yeah, I almost said it, but a sharp look from Harry cuts me off. Maybe she hasn't heard..."Suspending...good people."

She didn't miss it, though. At the sound of suspension, she spins on the spot, sloshing the water in the skillet. "Suspending? Who's being suspended?"

I shoot a glare at Ron. It's going to get bad now. I am definitely gonna kick his arse later. I turn back to Mrs Weasley and try to think of something to say that hopefully will take her mind in another direction. "Lucius Malfoy got pardoned."

Ron waits till his mum turns to the stove, then gives me a stricken look and mouths the word 'sorry'.

"Don't you change the subject," she scolds me. "I want to know who got suspended, not pardoned." Then that hits her and she claps her hand to her chest. "Oh good Merlin, he didn't."

"Oh he did," I assure her. "He and Nott. The Minister gave them pardons after some bullish story about being controlled." I'm not going into the details about how it happened. I don't want to get angry. Please let her go off on that and not find out I've been suspended.

"How we manage to find Ministers fool enough to buy that man's...now don't you change the subject!" she fumes. "You're trying to...oh no, Ron, you didn't."


Ron's been sitting there deep in thought, and I'm a bit worried what he might come up with next. But now he looks positively insulted.

"No, not me! I told you when I got suspended last year that I'd really try not to do it again. It was - I dunno - just some new blokes in, erm, the legal department or somethin'. Hey, uh - you haven't heard anything from Hermione, have you? You know, she hasn't sent us a thing except that one time at Christmas!"

"Don't try to avoid this, Ronald," she says, her voice gone stony. That's always bad. "It's somebody...they suspended Moody, didn't they? No...you wouldn't be covering it up if it was him. You'd be ranting." Then her eyes turn on me and I know she's figured it out.

"I'll rant if you want me to, Mum, because, yeah, Moody almost got himself suspended too, I heard," Ron says, loudly dropping his fork and obviously trying to deflect some of the heat from me. "It was rubbish, bloody rubbish what the Minister did, pardoning those Death Eaters, and for those who did get suspended, I wouldn't blame them for whatever they said to her!"

I sigh. Thank you Ron...

"But who did get suspended?" she asks, exasperated. "One of you had better tell me."

I look down at my plate. I don't want to see her expression. "I did," I admit.

"You...you what? Oh Harry!" Molly gasps. I don't know why she sounds so surprised, since she'd just about figured it out already. "I thought you had more sense then to...that's what we've got the Order for! You don't...Harry!"

"Sorry," I mutter.

"What good are you going to do our world when you're suspended?!" she continues on. "There are a scarce few good people at the Ministry. Don't make us lose more!"

"Mum, it wasn't his fault!" Ron says. "I was there! He was only trying to tell the Minister she was being tricked by them. You know Lucius Malfoy will stoop to anything. You've known that for years! Not only that, Mum. Know how they got Harry outside the Ministry? They told him I was in trouble. He went out there to save me and got in this mess."

"I also know how careless you boys can be with your words," she says sternly, glaring at us both. "And how rashly you boys can act. Honestly, it's bad enough with the twins chasing werewolves at the drop of a hat."

"Well, we didn't do anything that stupid," Ron insists. "Just don't yell at him any more, alright? He feels bad enough."

"Has he learned his lesson?" she asks, swiveling her head over to look at me with those eyes that just dare the truth out of you. "Will it happen again?"

I sigh. "Hope not," I say honestly. "Won't make garauntees though."

She lets out a long-suffering sigh and drops the skillet on the range, the water sloshing out and sizzling on the flames. "It's the most we can ever expect from you two," she says, a weary sound to her voice.

I get up from my chair, my plate now empty and I go to join her at the sink. "Let me help you," I offer and then make a gesture to Ron to make his escape.

"Thank you Harry, dear," she says, picking up a potatoe and washing it. Then she looks at me and clicks her tongue. "Oh Harry, that hair...oh my, where are your glasses?"

"Contacts," I tell her, making another hand gesture to Ron. He finally gets the message and starts to move. "Tried to make a couple changes..."

I give Harry a quick thumbs-up and head for the stairs. I know he'll be up as soon as he can get away.

It's weird when you haven't been home for a while. Every time I try the stairs the last few times I've been home I remember something that happened there when I was little. That burnt spot on the wall from the twins, that funny green blotch on the carpet from Ginny's magical nail polish, that hole in the floor when I tried to clean up after my pet Puffskein's accident... But I shake all that off. I'm on a mission.

A mission that soon gets slightly delayed by a moody ghoul. Still not rid of the bloody thing.

"Hey!" I yell at him when he slams closed the trap door in my ceiling just after I've opened it. Then I shake my head at myself. Since when did it ever help to yell at the ghoul?

I determinedly step up on the bed to get some better leverage - well, sorta, except it is a bed - then I put both hands on the trap door and shove. Then he shoves back. I shove up. He shoves down. I concentrate and shove up very hard and very fast, and finally, the trap door pops aside. Only to be replaced, over my fingers, then smashed down, because I've forgotten I have to have something to shove in to keep the door pried open.

Trying to shake the pain from my fingertips, I sigh and get back down long enough to find an old, split Beater's bat I had in the corner. Probably one Fred and George willed me. I repeat all I did before to get the damned door open, only this time I shove in the Beater's bat - and we're good.

Too lazy to go dig through the closet and find the ladder to get up, I'm happy to find my Auror conditioning's actually done me some good and I can lift myself up into the attic.

"Your Mum wanted to know what all that racket was, I told her I'd come check it out," I hear Harry come in just before I start to pull up through the trap door. "She actually shood me away after giving me another lecture. Need some help or do you got it?"

"Harry!" I say cheerfully. "You escaped! I think I've got it now, but it was quite the trick a minute ago. Ruddy ghoul." I stick a clenched fist up through the trap door hole and shake it. "See? Wizards win!" Then we hear the sound of something heavy and metal clanging around over the ceiling in the corner. Both of us laugh. "Maybe if we just bounce on the bed a bit, we can get through without the ladder..."

I bounce up and down, holding onto the edge of the trap door opening to make sure I don't knock myself silly, then I get bounce high enough to pull myself through. The cloud of dust chokes me, and the spider webs clinging make me shiver, but I'm determined to stay now that I'm here.

"Come on up, Harry," I squeak through a dry throat. "It's," I can't help but cough, "it's fine up here."

He laughs. "I'm sure," he says dryly. But Harry gets on the bed, and then jumps up, grabbing the edges. I hear him make a couple grunts and then pull himself halfway up. "Should come here for our workouts," he says tightly as he pulls himself in. He grabs a hold of me then, and I make sure to steady myself as he uses the trap door and me to get himself up and in.

"Mind the spider webs - and the ghoul, no doubt, if he gets brave enough to come out," I tell Harry. I look around. "I reckon that box oughtta be somewhere in this pile over here." I use my wand to light an old lantern sitting on the floor so that at least we can see a bit what we're doing. Though now it's lit, maybe that wasn't such a brilliant idea. There are spider webs everywhere. I shudder. "Reckon I'd better stick to this one stack over here, I'm sure it's in this one...somewhere."

"Can you just Accio the box or whatever you're looking for?"

I shrug. "Dunno." I lift my wand. "Accio Grampa Prewitt's wand!" The stack of boxes I'd pinpointed before bounces around a bit, but none of them change position, so I try again. Maybe that was too much information. All right, here we go. "Accio wand!"

The stack of boxes bounces around again, but the second from the bottom rolls itself out and the rest fall into a jumbled pile.

"Yeah!" I cheer. "This has gotta be the one!"

"So you wanted your grandfather's wa-wa--" Harry sneezes before he can finish. "Wand?"

"Yeah. Grampa Prewitt's," I say. "Grandpa Weasley was cool, too - it was him gave me the chess set, and he was the first one ever really made me feel I could do something of my own. Told me I was a strategist, he did - though I hadn't a clue what that was then, and woulda been much happier if he'd told me I was an expert Quidditch Chaser or something. But at least being a strategist was mine - and only mine. Grampa Prewitt, well - he had it loads tougher, but that's why I want his wand. He deserves a shot too." I have to stop a moment to cough.

"Shot? Ron what have you no-no-" Harry sneezes twice more this time, "not told me?"

"A shot," I say, suddenly feeling more of the weight of what I'd just told him. "Grampa Prewitt lost two of his sons in the first war. My uncles, Gideon and Fabian, though they never got to know they were my uncles. But they were murdered by Death Eaters. Actually, only one Death Eater got to them. One very particular Death Eater - who I'd really like to see head through the veil one way or another. Williamson and me - we're going after Dolohov, Harry. That's the case Moody gave us when Tonks got hurt and they couldn't do it. Dolohov - same bastard who nearly took out Hermione in fifth year? Yeah, he's the one killed both my uncles - and I want him. I reckon it's only right I give my Grampa Prewitt a shot at Dolohov with his wand, too, just to sorta make him feel better back there beyond the veil, ya know?"

It takes a bit for Harry to respond, but I think it's because he sneezes a couple more times after I finish. He sniffs, coughs. "Good on you to get his case then. I hope you get him then. I need to get out of this place Ron, otherwise I'll end up sneezing my contacts out."

"All right," I say. "I know what you mean. I'm about done with these spider webs, too, but I've gotta hunt through this box. I know!" I reach over and pitch the box through the hole onto my bed below, though it bounces right onto the floor. Then I douse the lantern. "That'll work. Okay, let's get outta here, mate. You can go first. I'll hold off this vicious ghoul for ya."

Harry snorts, and then crouches down neat the trap door. He doesn't even grab onto anything to get down, just jumps down through it and lands on my bed. I hear a crunch and Harry looks up at me. "Sorry, Ron."

For some reason that strikes me as funny, and I snort too. "Oh well. Reckon you have to let me sleep on your couch now if I don't sleep at my flat. Now I've got nowhere else," I say way over-dramatically.

Harry just laughs. "Maybe I should get a bed for that spare bedroom. Come on, you gonna jump down or just do it easy does it? And don't think I'm going to try and catch you. Remember that time I tried to help you down from that tree you accidently Apparated onto? Almost broke my leg."

"Hey now," I protest. "How'd I know that little branch was gonna break and drop me on top of you? 'Sides, my part's a bit trickier here. I gotta pull the trap door down with me, or at least leave it over the edge so I can get it closed from there. Otherwise, never know what the ghoul's doing in my room when there's nobody here." I start to search for the trap door and set it so that I'll be able to reach it from below. "Okay, comin' down, since ya need fair warning and all." I swing around to jump through and down, holding onto one side of the opening. I catch a quick glimpse of the ghoul coming out of his hiding place far in the back of all that junk. "Hey - hey!" I yell, but it's too late. I've already hit the bed. "Ruddy bloke's wearin' my pajama bottoms! Yeah, see what I mean? Someone left that door open a bit one day and he's down here shopping around. 'Course, I reckon they were way too short anyway, but still." I reach up and tug at the edge of the trap door till it fills the opening and locks in place. "Git," I grumble at the ghoul.

"Think we can disappear without another run in? Your Mum told me I need a hair cut, doesn't know what to think about the contacts, and that I need to eat more. Plus got another lecture about being suspended."

"Ergh. She put you through all that?" I ask, making a face as I collect the box now that I've climbed down from the bed. "Mum's ability to know just what will drive people mad the quickest simply knows no bounds. Yeah, sure, I know how to get out of here Mum-free when we go. Let me just see if I can get what I need so I don't have to haul along the whole box."

I cast the charm to open the flaps and start to root around through all of the Prophet clippings, Quidditch programs, half tickets from the fair and a play or two I was forced to go to, Potter buttons, a holey Cannons t-shirt, parchment notes passed in Hogwarts classes, and other bits of rubbish most people would just throw out. Yeah, it's all mine. But I've had some of it my whole life and added to it as I've gone along - just that I'm not gonna let on to Harry about that. "Yeah, Ginny really should clear some of this stuff out of these boxes. I'll have to let her know."

I take a stack out and drop it on the bed. I find one particular newspaper clipping that's especially old and faded. "Here. Check this, Harry." I hand it to him carefully as he slouches down on the edge of the bed. He doesn't say anything at first and I let him read. My eyes scan the worn pictures of the two young, smiling, red-haired wizards for a moment, the only photos I have of Gideon and Fabian Prewitt, the uncles I never knew. Sober photos of the Death Eaters who killed the others in the group my uncles were part of stare back and look around darkly, too. Antonin Dolohov's face snarls in defiance.

Just under that clipping, where I'd hoped to find it, is the wand I came for. I lift it out gently and roll it between my fingers, looking it over. Getting a feel for the wand of my grampa, Ignatius Prewitt, I flick and swish, and purple sparks fly from the end. "Uh oh!" I say in surprise, diving to pat out the sparks on my bedspread next to Harry before they light it, or him, on fire. "Blimey, Harry. It never did that last time I had it out, when I was maybe eight. Sorry, mate."

I just nod and go back to reading the article. They certainly wrote things differently then, than they did now. Now it just seems tabloid like. I look back into the box Ron took it out of, and catch the bold headline of another old clipping.


Death Eaters And Ministry Battle. Many Dead On Both Sides

I skim over it. A battle that took place a month or so before I was born. No one knows who fired the first hex, but by the time the Death Eaters cleared out, nearly thirty dead. Tons of damage. I read the last couple of lines, then put it back, gently.

"The wand okay?"

"Yeah," Ron says, still looking it over. "Reckon it is. Just let me shove all this rubbish back in here." He sets the wand aside, and as he's loading stuff back into the box, he runs across another article that seems more worn than the rest. "This one - this one here nearly caused me a heart attack at an early age. Says in it about Grandpa Weasley getting married long time ago - to one of three sisters, Cedrella Black. Cedrella Black! No offense to Sirius as a Black, mind, because I didn't know him then, but I remember this article really crushing me when I was maybe nine. Took me a bit to figure it out, but I knew by the end I had the same ancestors as Mrs. Malfoy, meaning...yeah, disgusting as it is, I'm some kinda cousin to the Ferret." He stops to shake his head a bit. "That'll ruin your day."

"Being related to the Malfoys would ruin more than your day," I say darkly.

Finally Ron finishes piling everything back inside the box, then he walks over to his closet and more or less shoves it in wherever it will fit.

"Reckon I'd better leave it here now, since I've got it in my head this is where it is," he tells me. "Right then. Wand number one," to which he holds up his own wand, "and wand number two," he says, holding up his grandfather's wand. "The more the merrier to do Dolohov in with." He looks around on the bed and over the table tops. "Reckon I've got everything I came with and everything I mean to take. You have everything?"

"Yeah, I got everything. So... escape?"

"Trick to this, mate, is we head down the stairs and make it fast, no stopping for anything. I'll cover the goodbyes, alright?"


I laugh that he seems to have this down so well. "Sure. You're the expert. Let's go."


Which is exactly what we do. I have to pay attention keeping up, Ron's loping down the stairs so fast, but aside from that, we're halfway down the last flight of stairs when he starts shouting.

" 'Bye, Mum!" he yells toward the kitchen. "Gotta go! Got a call from work and Harry's gotta get home! Thanks for the food, we love you, 'bye!"



As I'm stepping out the door in front of Ron, I see a blur rush into the living room from the kitchen, but it's too late.

SLAM!

The Burrow behind us, we keep walking quickly to keep up the ruse till we're out of the yard and into the orchard. "Can't get away with that every time, but it's alright once in a while. Thanks for coming with me, Harry. I really appreciate it, mate."

"What are friends for?"