Harry Potter and the Crystal of the Founders

Previously: Harry gets back to Grimmauld Place, meets up with his friends, has an important talk with Neville, and helps Ron to hatch a plan for Hermione.

Chapter Five:

For Hermione

Harry, Ron, and Neville slipped back into their rooms, Neville holding the drawings. He put them on top of his trunk, then straightened up to look at Harry. "Fun week we're going to have, eh?" he said with a smile.

Harry grinned back. "Only as long as we don't have to listen to Ron and Hermion bickering anymore."

Neville chuckled, then tugged his dusty sweater and T-shirt over his head, and threw them on the ground, pulling a clean T-shirt from his trunk and putting it on.

Harry sat on his bed, frozen. How could he possibly take off his dirty shirt to change into a cleaner one, without showing his many bruises to Neville?

Perhaps Neville had noticed his trepidation, because after giving Harry an odd look, he said uncertainly, "Um. Well, I'll see you downstairs. When you're done."

He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. At least he only thinks that I'm shy, Harry thought. Not wanting to waste anymore time, Harry quickly pulled on a new shirt, and closed his trunk.

He walked downstairs, tugging his long sleeves down farther on his wrists.

In the kitchen, everybody was waiting for him. Lupin had come from somewhere, and had apparently made a large kettle of stew for lunch. Harry noticed that only Ron and Ginny were eating, while Luna was still engrossed in The Quibbler, Hermione was hidden behind a book entitled 101 Imaginative and Original Duelling Strategies, Neville was playing a game of chess with an invisible opponent who was losing badly, from what Harry could see, and Fred and George had disappeared to somewhere else.

At the moment Harry set foot in the kitchen, there came a loud boom from somewhere below them. Lupin set the ladle down, frowning slightly, walked to the other side of the room, opened a door that Harry had never noticed before, and shouted, "Keep it down, you two!"

"Sorry!" came two voices from downstairs, at the same time. Then-

"D'you reckon that it's a no go with the Bulbadox powder, Fred? It seemed a bit, I dunno, off, to me."

"Definitely not that much," came Fred's voice. "Try a bit less, this time. And mind that you don't spill that Bluebottle Bane, George."

Lupin closed the door, shaking his head slightly, but he had a slight smile on his face at the same time. "We gave the basement to Fred and George as their labratory," he explained, to Harry's confused expression. "It's not quiet, but it is entertaining."

"And dangerous," added Hermione, not looking up from her book. Lupin shrugged, and Harry smiled.

"Hungry?" asked Lupin, stirring the kettle again, and lowering the fire to a simmer. Harry nodded.

"Starved," he admitted. "Not literally," Harry added hastily, when Remus looked at him piercingly. Lupin's face relaxed.

"We just eat whenever we get hungry," said Neville, studying the chessboard and making a move. "There's always something on, if you want it."

"I think this stew has been going for three days," continued Lupin, setting a plate of it down in front of Harry, and taking some for himself. "We just add stuff whenever we need more."

Ron finished his stew with a slurp, then licked his spoon, setting it down on his plate. "Mind if I play you, Neville?" he asked. "I've never had a chess game with you before."

"Mmm," said Neville, picking up the pieces and putting them back to their original spots. "Sure."

"Five Sickles says Ronald wins," said Luna unexpectedly, in a dazed voice, peeking over the top of her magazine.

"Same," added Ginny, getting up to get more stew, and grabbing a bun from the basket of the counter. "Any takers?"

"I will," said Harry, playing on a hunch that he had. "Five Sickles says that Neville wins."

"I'm with Harry," chipped in Remus.

Ginny shrugged, and dug in her pocket for a moment, before putting her money on the table. Not looking up from her magazine, Luna extended her hand and dropped a stack of silver coins on the table. Remus slipped on a thin leather glove, and then counted out five Sickles from his money pouch. "Sickles are silver," he explained, before anybody asked, and tossed five worn coins forward.

Harry put his own money into the pile, then asked Ginny to pass him a bun, which she did, and sat down to watch the game and eat.

Ron stared the game with a pawn; Neville played a pawn, and so did Ron, but instead of taking one Ron's pawns, as he could have, Neville put forward another of his own pawns, making Ginny raise her eyebrows. Next move, Ron took Neville's first pawn. Then Neville used one of his knights, and took both of Ron's pawns.

Ron's jaw dropped. "I never saw that coming," he admitted. Harry, Lupin, and Neville smiled.

As the game stretched on, Hermione marked her page in the book, set it down, and grabbed an apple from the counter, munching on it while she watched. Harry helped himself to more stew, Ginny tore her bun into little pieces and then ate them, and halfway through the game, Fred and George came up from the basement to watch. Fred was sporting blue freckles, and George's hair was standing straight up, but they were grinning as they watched Neville take Ron's second bishop.

Both of the chess players had lost about half of their pieces, and both were studying the board intently, waiting for Ron to move. Ron was propped up on on elbow, his brow furrowed as he looked, his lips moving soundlessly. Neville was frowning too, as though he were figuring out an interesting but complicated problem.

Ron's pieces became impatient with him, wriggling around and squeaking bits of advice.

"Watch his queen, there!"

"Don't go there, leave me here, and move that one to take his rook! It's the best move!"

"No, no! Move me over there!"

Ron silenced his squirming pieces with a glare remarkably reminiscent of Professor McGonagall, then said, "Castle to D3."

Ron's castle moved forward two squares, and then smashed Neville's last pawn off the board.

A small smile played around the corners of Neville's mouth. "Queen to F5," he exclaimed triumphantly.

Ron's eyes widened as he watched Neville's black queen snatch the crown from his own white king and hold it above her head in victory. The other black players jumped and squealed, hopping around on the board, while Ron's battered players, not accustomed to losing, hung their heads, defeated.

Everyone clapped, even Ginny and Luna, who had lost the bet. Fred and George smacked Neville on the back, both pretending to wipe away tears of pride. Neville grinned at Ron apologetically. Ron shrugged, and shook Neville's hand. "Remind me never to play chess with you again," he said, only half-joking.

Harry and Remus split their winnings, each taking ten Sickles, and Harry reminded himself to use the money to get Ron a Chess Repair set, to fix the chips and bumps in his players.

Harry found that the kitchen was rather like a Common Room, a place to socialize, play games, do homework, or just relax. The long table was perfect for chess, Gobstones, spreading out papers and books, or, in Fred and George's cases, standing on to energetically emphasize a point, or explain about their latest product.

The kitchen was always full of some delicious smell, either stew, baking bread, or some other food that Remus was cooking. The counter had baskets of buns, breads, fruits, and other snacks on it, and a person could always just grab something when they felt like it. Though Remus frowned on it, George insisted on keeping a basket of their latest joke shop candies on the counter as well, for anyone who felt brave enough to test out something for the twins.

Harry played four games of Gobstones with Luna, who was actually quite a good player, and Ron and Neville played six more games of chess, with Ron winning three. Hermione and Ginny fell into an argument, and Ginny kept tryng to convince Hermione to try a different hairstyle. After a while, Harry got up and left the table, heading down to the basement, intending to check out the labratory where Fred and George did all their experiments.

Harry cautiously opened the door, knowing full well that the twins could have some kind of humerous booby trap waiting for him. However, Harry got down the stairs without incident.

Harry stepped off the last stone stair just in time to see one of the twins snatch up a bubbling beaker of green ooze from a work table, which was hissing dangerously and overflowing, and dash behind a partial stone wall in the middle of the room. Harry heard a clink of glass on stone, and then Fred or George (whichever one it was) ran back around the wall, and dove down to the ground, just in time.

There was a loud bang, and the tinkle of breaking glass behind the wall. Both the twins stood up and walked forward, peering around the ends of the stone wall. The other side of the wall and the floor near where the beaker had been was coated in green slime and broken glass.

Harry glanced around the workroom. There was a wall in the middle that went to the ceiling and the floor, but not to both sides; there was about three feet of open space on either side. A long table with many different potion ingredients on it was pushed up to the side of the wall Harry could see, which was covered in black scorches and pockmarks.

Other long tables were all around the walls, some with many vials of liquids and bunches of dried herbs on them, others with beakers and small cauldrons, and still other tables with finished products and wrappers stacked up.

Harry crept forward quietly, and looked around the wall behind George. "What's this here for?" Harry asked. Both the twins jumped, then smiled when they saw Harry.

"The wall is for when-"

"-one of our experiments-"

"-explodes," the two finished at the same time.

Fred jotted down a note on the clip board he was holding. "Powdered snail shells and Venemous Tentacula seeds do not mix," he muttered as he wrote.

George vanished the mess with a quick, "Scourgify!" and Fred set down the clip board and quill. Grinning, they both explained what they had been trying to do.

"Well," said George, holding up what looked like a purple jellybean to Harry, "these are out newest item."

"Color-Change Candies," continued Fred. "They change your appearance. The solid-color ones turn your hair, blue, say, or red. Whatever the color of the bean is."

"The black ones," added George, holding up a bean that was indeed black, "switch your hair and eye color. So, you would have black eyes and green hair. Care to try?" He proffered the black bean to Harry, who hastily declined.

"The half and half ones turn your skin to whatever colors the bean is. Brown and pink, for example," said Fred, showing Harry a double coloured bean. "The solid-color ones with the white stripe around the middle change your eye color."

"And the white ones turn you back to normal," finished George.

"But we can't get the green beans to turn your hair green yet. It's really giving us problems," sighed Fred, putting the beans he had been holding down on the table.

"So that's what-" said George.

"-we're working on," continued Fred, speaking in alteration.

"Would you care-"

"-to help us?"

Harry blinked, a bit surprised, as he always was, when they spoke like that, but then declined and headed back upstairs, waving behind him to show that he aknowledged their shouts of, "We couldn't have done it without you!"

Ron and Neville were on their seventh game of chess when Harry got back up, and everyone else was eating plates of stew, watching them with casual interest.

After Neville beat Ron, just barely, they all set their dishes in the sink and set about cleaning the kitchen. Ginny wiped off the table, cleaning up the spilled Butterbeer, stew, and bread crumbs; Ron packed up the chess board, putting the players back in their little drawstring bags; Luna packed up the gobstones set similarly, and took it upstairs, humming vaguely, with The Quibbler rolled up and tucked behind one ear. Neville and Remus quickly washed the dishes, and Hermione dried them and put them away in the chest of drawers where they kept the dishes, and Harry slipped downstairs to help Fred and George clean up their lab for the night, which the twins greatly appreciated.

They all traipsed back upstairs, heading into their own respective rooms for the night, calling their goodnights to each other down the hall.

Knowing the problem he was going to have, Harry hurried upstairs faster than Neville, and got his pajamas on at top speed. Neville opened the door just as Harry was pulling his top over his head.

"What was that?" asked Neville in a sharp voice, hand on the doorknob, staring at Harry. "On your chest?"

"Nothing," Harry muttered. "There's nothing on my chest."

Neville still looked slightly suspicious, but slipped into the room and closed the door behind him. Harry flopped into his bed, his eyes itching with tiredness.

Harry watched the streetlamp outside the window flicker, the yellow light fading, and then, when he heard the springs on Neville's bed creak, he glanced over at his friend. Harry grinned, and Neville smiled sleepily back, before they both rolled over and fell asleep almost instantly.

Harry opened his eyes a second later, as if he had only blinked, and he found himself somewhere entirely different. He was standing somewhere he didn't know, a blank white room with no furniture, no windows, and no doors.

Harry looked around, then did a double take. "S-Sirius?" he stammered, staring at the man in front of him.

Sirius's arms were folded over his chest, and he was glaring at Harry. "I knew it," he snarled. "I knew you'd get me in trouble from the second I saw you."

"What?"

"Look. Look what you did to me. I'm dead, and that's your fault! You and your precious scar, always bothering me with those stupid complaints and whining, always bringing me into danger," Sirius said, his scowl deepening with every word, until Harry found himself afraid of Sirius, something that had never happened before.

"Sirius, I didn't- didn't mean to- but-"

"Stop using excuses!" Sirius snapped. "They don't mean anything. They can't fix anything! I'm dead, and it's your fault! Just because you can see me doesn't fix anything! I'm still dead!"

"Sirius," Harry pleaded, "Sirius, listen to me! I never meant to-"

"Save it," Sirius growled. "Save it for someone who cares. I don't. Who would care? You're just some kind of tragic hero, aren't you? You kill everyone around you, don't you? First you parents, then Cedric, and now me? Who else are you going to kill? Ron or Hermione? Remus?"

Harry's eyes filled with tears as Sirius's words cut him deeply, hurting him even more, because it was Sirius who was saying it to him. Sirius, his godfather! Sirius!

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Harry rushed forward and grabbed Sirius in a hug, but Sirius grabbed him by his shoulders and pushed him away, and began shaking Harry roughly. "Can't you see?" he shouted, "This is your fault! All your fault!"

Harry felt tears trickling down his face. "My fault," he sobbed. "It's my fault, I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't fix it!" Sirius bellowed.

"I'm sorry!" Harry said shrilly. "I'm- I'm sorry, Sirius!"

***

Neville opened his eyes to the sound of someone crying near to him. Crying? he thought blearily. Is that Harry?

It was. Neville swung his legs out of bed, and crept across the floor, to Harry's bed. The sleeping sixteen year-old was turning and twisting his covers around himself, rolling around in panic. Tears were streaming down his face, and he was pushing at something that wasn't there.

"Sirius," he gasped. "Sirius, don't- please, let go- let go of me- Sirius! Don't- stop- please, let go! I'm sorry! Sorry-"

Neville reached forward and grabbed one of Harry's wrists. "Calm down," he whispered. "Calm down. It's OK."

Harry whimpered and shook his head. "My fault," he muttered. "I'm sorry, Cedric, Sirius-"

"S'OK, Harry. Calm down. It's not your fault."

"My fault," whispered Harry, though quieter.

Neville let Harry's wrist go, then hesitated, and leaned down and grabbed Harry in a hug. "It's not your fault," he said, quietly but firmly."You're OK. Calm down."

Slowly, Harry stopped crying. He sighed, and lay still when Neville let go of him. Quietly as he could, Neville crept back into own bed. My god, he thought. Is that how bad it is? It must be horrible. I didn't know he had it that bad. He must have really loved Sirius.

***

The next morning, Harry woke up feeling vaugely unsettled, for some reason, but he couldn't quite remember why. When Harry glanced over at Neville's side of the room, he saw that Neville was still asleep, though he was right on the very edge of his bed. Even as Harry watched, his friend tipped off the bed and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

For a few moments, Neville lay still on the floor, face down, still tangled in his blankets, and then there came a muffled, "Ow."

Harry snickered. "OK?" he asked, throwing his own blankets off and swinging his legs onto the floor, wincing as his feet came into contact with the cold floor.

"Mmph."

"Huh?" Harry asked confused.

"I said 'Mmph'," came Neville's relpy, as he pushed himself off the floor and untangled himself from his red and gold blankets.

"That's what I thought you said," mumbled Harry, searching in his trunk for a shirt. "And that's why I'm confused."

Neville gave a small chuckle, and then there was silence for a while. Neville quickly pulled on his own clothes, then headed downstairs, yawning; Harry was still pretending to look for something in his trunk, but he quickly shut the lid and dressed as Neville left the room. Harry bit his lip as he yanked his sweater over his head, and emerged tousle-haired from the top.

He hated lying to his friends, or at least, not telling them the truth, but Harry knew he would have to come clean eventually. He felt that he couldn't keep it a secret, even after his bruises had healed.

Thinking of this, Harry glanced down at his chest, then, cautiously, lifted his sweater and examined his reflection in the mirror. It made him wince.

His injuries had not gotten very much better. The bruises had gone from red and brown to dark blue; there were small but noticable mysterious dents in his chest, and the skin around each of these had a faint greenish hue. The cuts had stopped bleeding, but the areas around the scabs were still tender and slightly red.

Harry felt a sudden, sharp pang of pain in his right shoulder as he lowered his shirt, but thought nothing of it as he left his room, rubbing his shoulder. For some reason, this made it worse; every time he touched or moved his shoulder it hurt worse than ever. By the time Harry walked into the kitchen, the tiny pricks of pain had developed into a throbbing ache. He suspected a broken bone.

Harry had a hard time keeping a straight face as he sat down at the table, muttering his thanks as Hermione set a bowl of oatmeal down in front of him. He spooned strawberry jam and cinnamon into his breakfast, grabbing a piece of toast from the plate in the middle of the table just as Ron walked into the basement kitchen, smothering an enormous yawn.

Ron flopped down at the table and pulled a bowl of oatmeal towards him. Completely disregarding everyone around him, Ron poured liberal amounts of honey, jam, cinnamon, dried fruit, milk, and sugar onto his breakfast, then wolfed the whole lot down in record time.

Ron looked up from his empty bowl to see Ginny, Fred, George, Hermione, Harry, Neville, Luna, and Lupin staring at him. His brothers were looking at him with identical grins on their freckled faces, Hermione, Ginny and Luna were looking disgusted, Harry and Neville were simply staring at him, and Remus looked awestruck and disbelieving.

"I don't think James or Sirius ever ate anything that fast," he said, still staring at Ron. Ther was silence, and then everyone cracked up all together, laughing at Ron, who had honey smeared on the end of his nose, and Lupin, who was shaking his head now, and giving the cauldron of oatmeal a quick stir.

When Harry was on his third piece of toast, feeling almost full, Ron leaned towards him. "Talk to Lupin," he muttered out of theside of his mouth. "We need to get started as soon as possible."

Harry gave a tiny nod, and finished up his toast in one big bite. At that moment, Hermione and Ginny stood up, picked up their bowls and rinsed them in the sink. They were arguing back and forth, and it was apparent that Ginny was still determinedly trying to get Hermione to cut her hair, and Hermione was refusing, just as stubbornly. Fred and George each grabbed a couple pieces of toast and headed downstairs, debating whether or not mixing Hedanya root with fish scales would have the desired effect (turning hair green).

Luna was immersed in her breakfast; she seemed to be studying her spoon very intently. Harry stood up, glanced at Ron, and Neville, both of whom gave him an encouraging nod, grabbed his bowl and took it to the sink. He quickly washed it, and then turned to Lupin. "Remus," he asked, "could I talk to you for a second? Not here?"

Remus set down his ladle and nodded, following Harry out of the kitchen, into the hall. Harry quickly but quietly babbled out Ron's plan, and then breathlessly finished with, "-and we were wondering if you could help us out a bit."

Lupin had been silent the whole time, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He was frowning thoughtfully, but nodding. "So Ron figured out that he likes Hermione?"

Harry nodded, and Remus smiled. "Took him long enough," Lupin muttered, but he looked pleased. " 'Course I'll help you," he added. "What help do you need?"

"We need you to get Hemione to leave." Lupin frowned. "Not for good," Harry added hastily. "Just out of Grimmauld Place for a week."

Lupin's expression was thoughtful again. "I could do that," he said, after a while. "It would be easy enough to tell Hermione that I'd be leaving again, on an emergency mission, and that you'd all have to leave. Of course, only she would really leave. I think I could give you about a week."

Harry smiled gratefully. "Thanks," he said, and was a bit surprised when Lupin ruffled his hair parentally. "Just ask if you need something," Remus told him. "I'll always help." He grinned as they entered the kitchen again. "And God knows how long it's been since I last played matchmaker."

***

"Come on, Hermione!" yelled Remus up the stairs. "We have to hurry!"

From up the stairs, the werewolf and the four teens standing around him could hear Hermione and Ginny struggling to drag Hemione's trunk downstairs. Lupin passed Harry, Ron, Neville and Luna a wink, and they grinned back at him. The very same day that Harry had first come to Lupin with the plan, arrangements had been made, and Ginny and Luna had been privately filled in on the matchmaking plot. The reactions had been, to quote, "About time!"

Hermione and Ginny appeared at the top of the stairs, and carefully carried Hermione's heavy trunk downstairs. The two girls set the trunk down with a thump, and Ginny sagged against the wall, pretending to wipe her hair off her face, but using that action to wink at Ron without Hermione noticing.

"Come on," said Lupin, grabbing one of the handles of Hermione's trunk, and pulling it to the door. "I've got to take you to your house first, and by then Tonks, Minerva and Severus will have taken the rest of them home."

"I hope you're OK, on your mission, Remus," said Hermion concernedly. "It must be really important if you have to go so soon."

"It is," said Remus, rather shortly. "And I can't say anymore than that."

The reason Lupin couldn't say anymore than the fact that it was important was because there was no more to it than that. There was no mission, and he had not needed to make one up, because he could simply say that he wasn't allowed to tell.

Hermione hugged Ginny, and waved to the rest of them, calling to them to write, and saying that she hoped they would have a good summer. The instant the door closed, the five teens broke into huge grins. All five of them grabbed their trunks and dragged them upstairs, helped along by Fred and George, who appeared when they were halfway up the first flight of stairs, and levitated the trunks the rest of the way up.

They rushed back down to the kitchen, and Ron unrolled the drawings of the library. Ginny, Luna, Neville and Harry clustered around him, peering at the notes.

"What color are the walls?" asked Ginny, her eyes flicking over the design.

Ron shrugged. "That's what we decide," he said, pushing the paper over to Neville, who pulled a quill and a small bottle of ink out of his pocket, loaded the eagle-feather quill, and held the quill poised over the smooth yellowish surface of the parchment, ready to write. Suggestions came at once.

"Dark red?"

"No, wine colored."

"Sky blue."

"Green?"

"Purplish or gold?"

The suggestions stopped after a moment, and everyone thought about the options. "Royal blue and bronze," said Luna, in a quiet voice. "Ravenclaw colors. Ravenclaw is supposedly the centre of learning and wit."

This was met with agreement. "Dark blue upper walls, the trim painted bronze, and dark reddish wood on the lower walls?" asked Neville; everyone nodded, and he wrote a few notes on the drawing.

"Do all the wood with a dark red polish, like maple, or mahogany," added Ginny.

"Maple," said Harry, and Neville wrote that down too.

Ten minutes later, they had decided on how to arrange the shelves, they had split up the duties, and they had also decided to go with the Ravenclaw theme. All the metal work (except the grate in the fireplace) would be given a bronze finish, all the wood would be given a maple finish, and the rugs, armchairs, and other fabrics would be royal blue.

Just as Neville capped the ink bottle and the rest of them sat back to examine their plans, they heard the front door shut, and they heard Remus come in, grumbling about the Knight Bus. Seconds later, there came a cacophony of ear-splitting shrieks and furious screams, and Harry winced. It sounded like they had not yet managed to get the portrait of Mrs. Black down yet.

The noise continued for a few more seconds, then stopped, suddenly. Lupin came in, looking flustered. He glanced at the plans, and broke out smiling. "So I guess you need me to get your supplies, right?" he asked, but did not look at all irritated about it.

Ron handed the list to Lupin, and Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his tiny gold Gringotts key, which he had grabbed earlier. "And the gold come out of my vault," he said firmly, pressing his key into Remus's other hand. "I've got more than enough."

Both Ron and Remus looked as though they were about to argue, but they both kept their opinons to themselves when the saw the look on Harry's face; he was looking at them as if daring them to protest. They did not.

***

About an hour later, Remus came back, laden with supplies and a book on renovating. He handed the manual to Ron, admitting that he had bought so much that the lady who owned the store had given him the book for free.

All five of them caried the supplies upstairs, but left them plied beside the library door, not wanting to get them all dusty.

"So," what now?" said Ron, pulling out the list. "Oh, yeah. Clean the dust off everything."

Harry was absolutely clueless as to how to use the magic sponges, having grown up in a non-magical household, but Neville, Ginny, and Ron had used them before, so they showed him how. Following their example, he tore the papery wrapping off the sponges, dropped about five of them in the bucket of hot water, and then set the bucket inside the library door, but far enough away that they would not tip it over when they opened the door. Harry quickly backed out of the way, ducking as Ron threw a bucket of hot water and sponges onto the floor.

The water splashed on the floor, making a large dark spot amid the dust, but then the soaked sponges began racing about, scrubbing the floor on their own. The ones in the other bucket jumped onto the floor and began scrubbing as well, stirring up huge clouds of dust. Ginny closed the door, saying, "And now we wait."

And they did wait, for about an hour, in which Harry began his deadly dull History of Magic essay about the goblin rebellion in which the Three Broomsticks Inn had been used as headquarters, accompanied by Ron, while Neville played another game of chess with the invisible opponent, and Ginny and Luna went to watch Fred and George test their experimental products.

After Harry had got as far as naming all the key goblin rebels that had led the fight (which was the third paragraph), Ginny called them to come up to the library.

The absence of dust on the floor was a great improvement; now Harry could see that the floors were a dark oak wood that gleamed because it was still wet, though there was no finish on the floor; it was very old. The wood tied in with their plan nicely.

The sponges were piled neatly on the floor near the now empty bucket, so dirty that they looked greyish brown, rather than bright yellow.

Lupin came up with them, and used a massive Scouring charm to clean off the shelves and books, though he decided to leave the rest to the teens.

Luna and Neville did their part by taking down all the old tapestries that were hanging on the walls, grabbing the dusty off the floor, and taking every loose piece of fabric downstairs to be washed. Ginny walked about with a sponge and a cloth, wiping off every bit of furniature, every candle holder and every bit of metal trim, then leaving it to dry. Ron and Harry had another bucket of hot, soapy, water, and they used sponges to clean off the carved fireplace mantle and the curved table near the fireplace, making the marble and oak shine in the candle light.

The dry smell of dust had been replaced with the warmer, sweeter smell of soap, and now the floor, furniature and fireplace could be seen as elegant and old, rather than gritty and aged. Granted, the walls were still coated with dust, and there was a lot of work to be done, but they had only started. Harry could tell that this was going to be worth the time it took.

By the end of the day, Luna, Ginny, Ron, Harry, and Neville were covered in dust from head to toe, but all of the furniature and fixtures had been cleaned, the entire fireplace, including the sooty grate and the hearth had been washed, and the shelves and floors were dust-free. The rugs and tapestries would be washed the next day, and then replaced after the painting was done.

Harry skipped into the shower after Luna, quickly washed the dust out of his hair, and then hurried out, so that Ron could get in. Running his hand through his damp hair, Harry walked downstairs, unaware that someone was watching him very fixedly.

When Harry was halfway though his second plate of spaghetti, Ron came down, red hair plastered flat to his head. Ron flicked his hair out of his eyes, making sure that the water landed on Fred, who made a face back at Ron. Ron seated himself between Harry and Ginny, then began gulping his food as fast as humanly possible again. With a sigh, Ginny plucked his fork out of his grasp, then gave it back to him, saying, "Eat slower, Ron, please. That's disgusting."

Down the table, Fred and George were sitting across from each other, throwing meatballs at each other, and then the other one would catch the meatball in his mouth, and eat it. After a few minutes of this, with Ron, Harry, Luna, Neville, and Ginny watching interestedly, Lupin, who had had his back to the twins the entire time, getting the fresh bread out of the oven, suddenly swung around and snatched the meatball out of the air, before George could catch it and gulp it down. "No throwing food," he said, and popped the meatball in his own mouth, chewing it as he turned back around to turn the oven off.

Fred and George exchanged disappointed looks, but didn't throw anymore food, not wanting Remus to intervene again. The rest of dinner passed without incedent, unless you counted Fred secretly Transfiguring the meatball Ron had been about to eat into a spider, making Ron scream and drop his fork, or Ginny finding a orange Color-Change Candy in her food, too late, after her skin being turned blue and red.

Both these distractions sent Fred and George into hysterical fits of laughter, until everyone else began laughing, suddenly. At first, the twins could not figure out why everyone was laughing, but when they glanced at each other, they found out.

Apparently, Lupin had slipped a small amount of hair loss potion into Fred's Butterbeer, in retaliation for Ron, and Ginny had put a bit of the failed green Color-Change Candy into George's spaghetti, causing his face to break out in brilliant, neon orange splotches that were outlined in black.

Both of the two Weasley boys stared at each other for a few seconds, then bolted downstairs. For a couple minutes, everybody else ate their dinner quietly, smothering laughter as they listened to the sounds of clinking bottles and frantic footsteps downstairs. They heard George say, "Here, this should do the trick," and then there was silence for a few seconds.

"Is my hair growing?" asked Fred hopefully. They could only assume that George had shaken his head, because they heard a dramatic howl of, "Nooooooo!" that sent them all into giggles.

"There was an anti-growth potion in that," muttered Remus. "The potions and spells won't work until tommorrow morning."

The sounds of more bottles being moved, the crinkle of a wrapper being opened, and a crunch of a hard candy came from downstairs, along with George's voice saying, "Did it work, Fred?"

"No," Fred sighed.

"Best get to work, then," muttered George, and they began to work on the antidotes for their problems.

They remained in their lab for the rest of dinner, and the five teens and Remus trudged upstairs after cleaning up, yawning and ready for bed. Harry wasn't surprised; it was already 10:30, and they had been working all day.

Too exhausted to do anything but blink and breathe, Harry dropped onto his bed, and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow; he wasn't awake to hear Neville come in.

***

By lunch time the next day, the entire library was completely devoid of dust; a fact which Remus noted as he brought up their lunch. The five happy teens munched on sandwiches and potato salad, sprawled out on the floor or sitting against the wall in the library near the fireplace. The library was much brighter now that the light was coming through the stained glass windows, making candles unnessecary during the day.

Fred and George flopped down disconsolately beside them, grabbing their own sandwiches and Butterbeer. Fred's hair was about two inches long; the outlines around the splotches on George's face were gone, and the orange had faded a bit, but the marks of the revenges played on the twins the night before were still clearly visible.

Ron and Ginny were making a few sidelong glances at Fred and George, but the twins ignored them, until finally, George said, "It's about time we got some comeuppance for our years of pranking, much as I hate to admit it. It's not like we've never done some lasting damage on Ron or Ginny."

And then Harry understood why they were taking it so well.

After they finished their lunch, Ginny carried the plates back down to Remus, with Luna and George trailing after her. They stayed downstairs to wash the rugs and tapestries, and so Ron, Harry, Fred and Neville brought the rollers, brushes, paint trays and cans of blue paint into the library.

Using a quick spell, Fred opened the paint cans, revealing a beautiful royal blue paint that gleamed brightly. Ron glanced at the lid Fred had popped off. "It says that there's always going to be exactly enough for the room in the can; not anymore or less. Sounds good."

Harry picked up a can and poured some into the tray; it flowed smoothly into the metal dish, then settled evenly in the bottom. He filled the rest of the trays, and when Harry set the can down and glanced inside, he saw that the level had only gone down a little bit, though he had poured out at least half the can.

"D'you think the paint would go back in the cans, if we tried to put it back?" Harry asked, pondering.

Fred shook his head. "That's not how it works," he replied.

The first splash of azure on the greyish-white walls contrasted like a peacock among moths, but it looked wonderful. Harry found that he did enjoy painting; it was peaceful and soothing, somehow, not demading or stressful, and it did not require very much thought.

They covered a large section of the first wall, near the door, that day, with Fred levitating his roller up to do the higher part of the walls, almost all the way up to the top of the vaulted ceiling, but he had to be careful not to drip paint down onto them.

Harry wondered if any part of the house had ever been well cared for, or renovated before; it didn't look like it, and Harry didn't think so. What really puzzled him was why anybody would take such a beautiful old house and decorate it with shrunken heads, screaming portraits, tarnished silver, and dust. He supposed it hadn't been so dusty a decade ago, but it must have been even more depressing and gloomy with the original Blacks living in it.

At the end of the day, when the light started dimming and sliding down the walls, filling the library with shadows, Harry, Ron, Neville and Fred finished up, cleaned their rollers and trays, and stacked the paint and supplies outside the door, shutting the library door softly and leaving the paint to dry overnight.

The next day passed in much the same fashion as the one before, except that Ginny, Luna and George joined them to help paint, and they finished two of the walls. After lunch on the third day, Harry and Ron got out the smaller brushes and the bronze paint, and painted the intricate strip of trim between the upper and lower walls. Lupin came up after lunch on that same day, and he got a sponge to help Neville scrub the black paint off the shelves.

Harry had to admit, the library looked promising; two entire walls were royal blue with the trim painted gleaming bronze, and four of the shelves were still damp from the paint remover, but shining oak.

In the next two days, Harry, Ginny, Neville, Ron, Luna, Fred, George and Remus painted all the walls and trim, got all the black paint off the shelves (without damaging the books), and put the bronze finish on all the metal candle holders, tapsetry hooks and rods, and the fireplace screen and wood holder.

Remus put a neat and useful charm on the wood holder so that it would never be empty, and the fireplace, so that it would clean itself whenever the fire went completely out.

On the sixth day after Hermione left, Harry, Ron, Neville and Lupin visited a renovating store in Sentemint Alley, and got twelve new overstuffed royal blue armchairs with eagles carved into the legs and arms, and a couch of the same color and design, to put along one of the walls. They also bought creamy white candles that would never burn down, and would burn with a gold flame, instead of yellow.

Harry insisted on paying again, and Ron and Lupin ceased to argue with him when they saw his vault. Lupin shrunk everything down into his pocket, and they brought it back to Grimmauld Place, with Harry only 150 Galleons poorer, which barely made a dent in his fortune, though it was a lot of money.

They spent their seventh and last day frantically staining the floor, lower walls, and shelves maple, which took only the morning, thanks to their ex-DADA Professor. After a quick break for lunch, they had to tackle the problem of the books.

"So, how do we get different books on the shelves?" asked Neville, looking at Lupin, who was standing at the end of one of the shelves. Ron was walking down the aisle, running his fingers over the tattered spines of the books.

Remus smiled and indicated the little card in a bronze holder on the end of the shelf. "This," he said, "is a nifty little thing."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "I might be wrong, Remus, but that looks like a name card," he said. Harry had become a great deal more relaxed around the werewolf, and now felt comfortable using his name.

"It is," said Remus, his smile widening. "But watch."

He slid the card out of the holder, and there came a surprised shout from Ron, who was still in the middle of the aisle. "Hey! Where'd all the books go?"

Harry and Neville glanced down the side of the shelf, and indeed, the books were gone, and the shelves were empty. They looked back at Remus.

"It's a Personalization Charm," he told them, dropping the old card on the floor and pulling a blank new one that was the same size from his pocket. He quickly pulled a Muggle pen out of his pocket, and neatly wrote 'Defense Texbooks' on it in even handwriting, then slid the card back into the holder.

As Harry, Neville, and Ron watched, new books materialized on the shelves. All of them looked brand new, the spines shiny and hard. Harry pulled one off the shelf and read the title: One Hundred Ways to Protect Yourself From the Dark Forces, by Alastor Moody. Harry pulled the next book off the shelf, and saw that it was Knowing What to Expect, again, by Alastor Moody. Harry glanced at Remus, but it was Neville who answered.

"It must be alphabetacal, by first name, right?" he said, walking down the row, pulling out three books as he went, and then stopped and read their titles and authors aloud. "Worst Case Scenario, by James Potter. When the Worst Should Happen, by Remus Lupin. The Animal in You, by Sirius Black."

He looked up at Remus. "I didn't know you wrote a book," Neville said, looking puzzled but admiring as he brought the books back to the end of the row.

"I didn't know Sirius wrote a book," said Ron, following him and studying the black leather cover of The Animal in You.

"I didn't know my dad wrote a book," ended Harry, taking his dad's book from Neville. It had a handsome brown leather cover, the title embossed in gold.

Harry looked up at Remus, who was flipping through his book with a far-off smile on his face. "I remember when we wrote these," he said quietly. "They're a set, see?"

He held up all three books together, and though the covers were different colors of leather (Sirius's was black, James's was chocolate brown, and Remus's was light brown), Harry could see that the gold script on the the covers was the same, and the books were all the same size and shape. When Harry took Worst Case Scenario back from Remus, and flipped though it, then glanced over at The Animal in You, he found that the writing inside was of the same font; on the inside of the front cover, there was the list of the other four books in the set, and the dedication, which Harry read aloud.

"Dedicated to Albus Dumbledore and Alastor Moody, who taught me most of the things I know about Defense, and to my friend and editor, Remus Lupin, who convinced me to write this book in the first place."

They were all silent for a moment, and Harry looked at the four other titles in the set. He quickly decided to come back to look for them later, but then put Worst Case Scenario back in its proper place on the shelf, and took another Muggle pen from Remus. "Better get started, then," he said, and picked up one of the blank cards.

They made another shelf of Defense textbooks, a shelf of old school textbooks and wizarding fiction books, a shelf of Muggle non-fiction and fiction books, two shelves of romance, drama, and adventure stories, two shelves of Arithmacy, Ancient Runes and Astronomy, and a shelf each of Transfiguration, Potions, Magical Creatures, Herbology, Charms, and History, both Muggle and wizarding.

When they looked it over, they agreed that they had a very full library, and one that would have books about almost anything. The shelf on the back wall was empty, and they left a stack of cards and pens on the table nearby, so that if there wasn't a section on a certain topic, or if there wasn't information on a subject, a person could write that specific topic or subject on a card, and put it in the holder, take the book or books that they needed, and then take the card out, thus leaving the shelf empty again. A bit ironically, the empty shelf was the one that could and would have the exact information needed.

By the time they had finished hanging up the tapestries, putting the royal blue rugs back, and putting all the new furniature in, it was almost 8:00, and Harry's stomach was rumbling, though not as much as Ron's, which Harry could hear all the way across the room.

Laughing at Ron a bit, Harry and Neville left the library, Harry wiping his sweaty hair off his forehead. The three Griffindor boys trooped downstairs, tired, but happy and proud of themselves.

They gulped their stew quickly, rushed back upstairs to shower and brush their teeth, then fell into bed, with smiles still on their faces. Harry hadn't known that cleaning and renovating a room to help a friend could be so gratifying.

Ron was definitely looking tense the next day; he had taken another shower that morning, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt that was as nice as he could get; he continually tugged at his shirt and pants, trying to get them to hang straighter, and he kept flattening his hair, until Fred offered to remove it all for him.

Harry spent the day trying to do homework, which was made more difficult by the fact that Ron kept sighing, fidgeting, and checking his watch.

When Lupin left to get Hermione at 5:30, Harry, Ginny, Luna, Ron, and Neville went up to the library; Ginny and Luna traipsed around, straightening the rugs and making sure the tapestries were hanging properly, while Neville lit the candles in the holders around the walls and on the small tables. Harry kindled a fire in the fireplace, and Ron hurried around, glancing at everything and making sure everything was ready.Harry could understand his nervousness.

They went back downstairs and waited in the hallway, discussing in hushed voices how they would talk to Hermione. They got as far as agreeing that it would be Ron who told her, once they got to the library, but then the door creaked, and opened.

Harry knew that Mrs. Black would have ordianarily woken up, but Lupin had put a temporary Locking Charm on her long green curtains, and though they twitched, and Harry could hear muffled grumbles from behinds the curtains, they did not open and begin screaming.

Hermione stood, pink cheeked, in the doorway, holding one handle of her trunk, and clutching Crookshanks's basket in the other. Harry could see Remus coming up behind her, glancing around. He nodded, and gestured silently to them.

Neville jumped forward and took Crookshanks's basket from her, and Ginny and Harry dragged her trunk forward, inside the house.

Remus shut the door behind them, and nodded again at Ron. Ron said nothing; he was suddenly pale. Hermione fidgeted slightly as everyone stared at her in silence. "What?" she said, suddenly. "Is there something wrong with my hair? Am I blue? Did my eyes turn red?"

"No," said Ron, hastily. "You look great, Hermione!"

She looked gratified, and ducked her head, slightly ashamed of her outburst. "Thanks, Ron," she said, glancing at him.

Lupin gestured again, from behind Hermione, and Luna elbowed Ron. He jumped, and then cleared his throat. "Uh, Hermione? Um..." he began, and she nodded, for him to continue. "We have something to show you, see."

She grabbed the handle of her trunk, nodding, looking slightly confused and suspicious, but Ron gestured for her to leave it, saying that they'd take it up later. "You have to close your eyes," he said, fidgeting his hands slightly.

Hermoine raised her eyebrows. "No, really," said Ron, and Harry and Neville nodded. "We're not going to trick you."

She closed her eyes, and Ron hesitated, then took her arm. Hermione jumped, and her eyes flew open again; Ron jumped back, turning red. "We've got to show you where," he muttered. Hermione hesitated, then closed her eyes again, and held out her arms to them.

Harry took one arm, and Ron took the other, and they led her up the stairs slowly. The other three followed them, nodding and smiling silently. "Up here," said Ron, leading her down the hall.

"Up where?" Hermione asked, but still keeping her eyes closed. "Where are we going, Ron, Harry?"

"You'll see," Harry said. "Just don't open your eyes."

They got her to the end of the hall, and Ron led her through it. They had stained the door maple, and the handle and key were polished bronze now. This was good, because Remus couldn't have opened the door before, when the handle had been silver. "Where is this, Ron?" asked Hermione, rather impatinently.

Ron didn't answer, but led her to the very back of the library, near the fireplace. He let go of her arm and stood back nervously. "Open your eyes," he told her. She did, and gasped, looking around in awe.

The library walls were royal blue, and the lower walls looked like polished maple, as did the shelves and floor. The reddish maple gleamed in the golden light coming from the candles and fire. There were lit candles, burning gold, in the candle brackets on the walls and in the olders on the tables.

In front of her, in the north-east corner of the library, there was a maple table, curved like an arc, with the shorter side to the fireplace. On it was a branch of cream candles, a bottle of ink, a couple rolls of blank parchment, and an eagle-feather quill. There were four royal blue armchairs on the wider side of the table. The hearth and mantle of the fireplace were grey and white marble, and there was a handsome fire roaring in the grate, casting a warm glow on everything, and making the burnished metal shine.

There was an overstuffed blue couch against the west wall, between two bookshelves, almost screaming to Hermione to grab a book and sit down for a few hours; next to the shelf on the right of the couch was the door. There was an empty shelf along the south wall, and the stained glass windows on the east wall glittered in the light from the candles. Rows of bookshelves were all over the library, each holding easily over six hundred books.

Hermione was speechless.

"Oh- oh, my- oh-" Hermione stammered, looking around, disbelieving."Oh- who- why-"

She composed herself a bit, and managed to say one sensible word that summarised everything. "Wow," she whispered, stunned, turning in a circle.

She turned back to face the five smiling teens. "Who-" she began again, then shook her head slightly, blinking back tears, and said, in a hushed voice, "Thank you."

"Don't thank us, said Neville, smiling, "It was Ron who did this for you."

She turned to Ron, and flung her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shirt. He looked equally as stunned as Hermione. "'Mione, don't- come on," he said, a bit more kindly. "S'OK."

He rubbed a circle on her back, not quite sure of what to do. Hermione looked up at Ron, and let go of him, brushing the tears off her face. "Thank you, Ron," she whispered.

He shrugged. "S'for your birthday," he mumbled, shrugging one shoulder.

She hiccuped a little laugh. "My birthday?" she asked, in an amused voice. "Ron, my birthday isn't until September 19th!"

He froze, stunned. "But you said-"

"Oh, Ron!" she laughed. "I said, 'My birthday is September 19th,' not, 'My birthday is next week,'!"

Ron was stunned. "Oh," he whispered. "I didn't-"

But Hermione hugged him again. "But thank you anyways," she whispered. "I love it so much. And you couldn't have done this for me if we had been at Hogwarts. I love it."

He grinned, and hugged her back for a second. Hermione let go of him, and turned to her other four friends. "And thank you, too," she said. "I know you helped Ron with this."

Harry shrugged, Neville put his hands in his pockets, Luna smiled, but Ginny grinned, and cheekily said, "Anything to help my brother come to his senses and realize what's been sitting in front of him for years."

Hermione giggled, Ron blushed, and then, hesitantly, wrapped an arm around her waist. She glanced up at him, then smiled and leaned into him. "We'd better go for dinner, then," Neville said, and everyone nodded.

They all went back downstairs, Ron keeping his arm around Hermione, and Harry felt a warm sense of contentment, like phoenix tears, except... better. This was something he had done himself, this was something he had done for someone else. It had been fun, and satisfying, and now, it was worth it.

It was more than worth it.