The sun hadn’t peeked over the tops of the hills to the east of the Burrow and yet the day already carried the promise of being a sweltering one and the night wouldn’t be much better. No measurable rain had fallen in weeks and the forecast called for a continuation of hot and dry for the foreseeable future. The grass and some of the trees had started to turn brown and die from the lack of moisture. Only the trees with the deepest roots could find enough water to stay green. The small pond behind the Burrow had shrunk to a mere mud-puddle. The many frogs and toads that lived around it had buried themselves deep underground in an attempt to escape the heat and dryness. With the frogs and toads being absent the insect population blossomed and the inhabitances of the Burrow were forced to keep all the doors and windows closed in an effort to keep from being eaten alive. The cooling spells they used had been a great help in keeping the temperature inside the house down to a tolerable level. The little river that flowed lazily by to the north had become a trickle that one could easily step over in a single stride. Its source had all but dried up. The only creatures that seemed to benefit from the drought were the birds. Everyday was a feast for them.
The first rays of sunlight had barely shown through the windows when Hermione gave a sudden jerk and sat straight up on her bed.
“Oh no!” she whispered to herself, “I can’t believe I forgot!”
She sprang from her bed and grabbed her dressing gown as she ran to the door.
“I can’t believe I forgot all about the Books! How could I forget about something that vile?”
A sense of urgency gripped her like a hand as she threw open the bedroom door with a loud bang waking Ginny.
“Hermione what’s wrong?” said a frighten Ginny.
But Hermione didn’t hear her as she raced up the stairs to Ron and Harry’s room. She threw their door open with a bang.
“Get up you two!” she said loudly.
“Bloody hell, Hermione!” shouted a startled Ron pulling his covers up to his chin, “Don’t you ever knock? You scared the dung out of us!”
“Are we under attack?” asked a just as startled Harry grabbing for his wand.
“No, no nothing like that. It’s the books! In all the excitement we forgot all about the books! We forgot all about destroying them!”
It took a few seconds for that bit of news to seep into their sleep befuddled minds. When he realized what she had said, Harry sat bolt upright on his bed.
“Blimey, you’re right!” he said slapping himself on the forehead, “How could we have forgotten bout the books? We need to get to Hogwarts straight away!”
“Yeah,” said Ron thickly, “Then we’ll see bout breaking you of that nasty habit of yours.”
“And what nasty habit is that?” ask Hermione hotly.
“The one where you just charge into other people’s bedrooms without knocking first! That one!” shot back Ron just as hotly.
“Stop it you two!” said Harry loudly before she could form a retort, “We just fought one war! Let’s not start another!”
“Yeah you’re right, Harry, sorry. I do seem to have developed a habit of just barging into closed rooms with out knocking first. Sorry, Ron,” she said in a meek voice.
“What’s going on?” asked Ginny coming up behind Hermione, “You took a year off my life.”
“Oh, just something of vital importance we forgot to do,” said Hermione.
“What’s that?” asked Ginny.
“Remember those books we’re not to talk about anymore?”
Ginny nodded her head.
“We forgot to destroy them. Anybody got any ideas how to do that?”
“Well,” began Harry slowly, “if they were muggle books I’d say burn them. But because they are magical I don’t think ordinary fire would touch them. We could try Fiendfyre. Do you know how it works, Hermione?”
“No and I don’t want to. It’s way too dangerous. Remember what it did to the Room of Requirements when Crabbe couldn’t control it?”
“Yeah I do. We need to find someone who can control it.”
“We could always go to the Ministry,” said Ron, “I’m sure they would have someone who can.”
“NO!” shouted Harry, “I know Minister Shacklebolt is making changes and all, but I still don’t trust the Ministry! If we take the books there and turn them over to them they’ll want to study and archive them for future reference! That knowledge is too dangerous to be let loose! Those books have got to be destroyed once and for all!”
“All right, all right,” said Hermione, “Calm down. We’ll go to Hogwarts. May be Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore will know want to do.”
“Right,” said Harry.
Harry picked up his wand and conjured a silver sphere and sent it racing off to Hogwarts.
“Why didn’t you just use the Floo Network?” asked Ron.
“Too unreliable, someone could still be eavesdropping on it.”
“You mean like Death Eaters?”
“Exactly,” replied Harry, “Let’s get cleaned up before we go.”
While Hermione and Ginny were in the bathroom, Ron and Harry laid back on their beds to wait their turn.
“When you starting at the joke shop?” asked Harry.
“I was figuring on after we get this mess cleaned up. We still have to find Hermione’s parents and I’m planning on going with her. I already talked to George bout it and he’s okay with it. You still want to be an Auror? I’m sure George could use both of us at the shop.”
“I’m sure. There’re still a lot of Death Eaters out there to be rounded up and I want to be a part of it. They caused a lot of suffering for a lot of people.”
Ron could hear the bitterness in his voice and knew he was thinking not only about his parents but about Fred, Remus, Tonks, Colin, and all the others who had died.
“We need to get you a new owl,” said Ron attempting to change the subject.
“I don’t want a new owl,” said Harry with a slight break in his voice, “There can never be another Hedwig. Aside from you she was the best friend I ever had.”
“Sorry, mate. I just thought that, well, sorry.”
“Forget it.”
They lay on their beds in silence for a while.
“Dad told me Umbridge’s trial is in two week. He said they may call us to testify against her.”
Harry made a fist and squeezed it until the faint scars on the back of his hand shown clearly. He studied them for a moment.
“For what?” he asked, “This?”
“Maybe, don’t know,” said Ron shrugging his shoulders, “I’ve got my own set of those to remind me of her, you know.”
“I know.”
There was a soft knock on the door and Hermione stuck her head in.
“Bathroom’s open,” she said.
“Thanks,” said Ron, “And thanks for knocking.”
An hour later they headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. The smell of cooking bacon and brewing coffee drifted up the stairs to greet them as they descended. They thought Hermione and Ginny had already started cooking but when they arrived in the kitchen they saw them sitting at the table stone-faced and Mrs. Weasley at the stove.
“Good morning,” she said brightly, “Breakfast will be ready shortly so sit down.”
Harry and Ron shared a quick, nervous glance and sat down; they knew what was coming.
“Ginny and Hermione were telling me you lot are off to Hogwarts this morning, why?”
“We have some unfinished business to attend to; one last, final secret that only Ron, Hermione, and I can take care of and Hogwarts is the safest place for it. All I can say about it is it has something to do with Voldemort. So please don’t ask us anymore about it. Its best you don’t know,” answered Harry darkly trying to stop Mrs. Weasley from asking anymore questions.
It backfired on him. Now Mrs. Weasley was more determined than ever to find out what he was hiding.
“If it has something to do with him why don’t you turn it over to the Ministry? Surely they can take care of it for you.”
“No, Mrs. Weasley, we can’t. It’s far too dangerous for anyone else but us.”
“If it’s that dangerous you must give it to the Ministry!” she said heatedly.
“No, I will not!” said Harry hotly, his temper rising fast, “If I give this – thing – to the Ministry they’ll want to study it and archive it for future reference! If this – thing – were to fall into the wrong hands there could be another Tom Riddle all over again! I will not allow it! Maybe after it’s been destroyed I’ll tell you what it was but not before!”
He turned and stormed to the fireplace and Flooed to Hogwarts leveling behind a very stunned Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. Nobody had ever dared to speak to Mrs. Weasley like that before and she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. They all stared at the fireplace for a long time.
“Mum,” said Ginny breaking the silence, “the bacon is burning.”
“What? Oh, right. The bacon is burning.”
“Mum,” said Ron, “Harry is right. This – thing – is way too dangerous for anybody else to know about. We have to be the ones to destroy it.”
“Well, he can run off and do dangerous things if he wants,” she said slamming a pan down, “but I’ll not have my children running after him!”
“Mum, have you forgotten I’m an adult now? You can’t stop me. Harry needs our help.”
“Fine, you go! But Ginny will not!”
“MUM!” cried out Ginny, “I’m almost of age! And I did fight in the battle!”
“Yes you did, against my wishes, and you almost got killed! I’ll not lose anymore of my children! You’re not going and that’s final!”
Mrs. Weasley was close to tears.
“MUM!”
“NO!”
Ron signaled to Hermione it was time for them to leave while Mrs. Weasley’s attention was focused wholly on Ginny or risk being drawn back into the argument. They stepped out of the fireplace in the Headmasters office to find Harry and Professor McGonagall waiting for them.
“Blimey, mate, I’ve never seen anyone stand up to Mum like that before,” said Ron brushing the soot off him, “I’d lay-low for a while if I were you. You know kinda stay out of sight for a few days. Give her a little time to get over it.”
“Is Ginny coming?” asked Harry.
“Don’t know. She and Mum were going at it pretty good when we left. You reckon Grimmauld Place is ready?”
“Don’t know. Kreacher!” called out Harry.
There was a small pop and Kreacher stood before them.
“Yes, Master Harry? You called?” he said in his bullfrog voice, bowing low in front of Harry.
“Yes I did. Is the house ready for us?”
“Yes, Master, all is now ready. Kreacher has finished the last this morning.”
“Brilliant! Did you do the other thing I told you to do?”
“No, Master. Kreacher is not worthy of his own room,” he said pulling on his ears looking at the floor.
“Kreacher you are worthy of your own room if I say you are! I order you to clean-out the smallest bedroom in the back of the house and take it for your own! Do you understand me?”
Hermione beamed at Harry.
“Yes, Master. Kreacher understands. Master is a good Master. Will Master Ron and Mistress Hermione be joining him?”
“Yes they will. We’ll be there later today. Thank you, Kreacher.”
With another small pop he was gone.
“My goodness, if I hadn’t heard you call his name I’d never have guessed that was Kreacher,” said a surprised McGonagall.
“Yeah, there’s been quite a change in him. Now on to business: We have three books of the evilest magic ever written we want destroyed. How do we do that?”
“And what books are these?” she asked.
“Books that told Riddle how to create the objects he did.” answered Harry.
“May I inquirer,” asked Dumbledore, “as to how you came to be in possession of these books?”
“It was my doing,” said Hermione, “After you were killed and Harry told us about Voldemort’s things I figured we needed to learn as much about them as we could. I just summoned them and to my surprise they came.”
“I see,” said Dumbledore sadly, “When I had started to become suspicious what Riddle was up to long ago I should have destroyed those books then. He was always delving into the deepest, darkest magic. I didn’t know exactly what he was looking for but I knew it was dark. Instead I hid them away in a vain hope that he would not find them. I was wrong. He was much more clever and resourceful than I had imagined and got there ahead of me. Another of my failings I’m afraid. I could have stopped Riddle ages ago before any of this started.”
“No, Professor,” said Harry, “I don’t think you could have. Fate wouldn’t have let you. Things had to play out their own way and in their own time.”
“So kind of you to say so, Harry, and so wise.”
“You’re welcome, Professor. Now how do we destroy the books? I’m guessing ordinary fire won’t touch them. Am I right?”
“You are correct. No ordinary fire will harm them.”
“What about Fiendfyre? It destroyed one of Riddle’s objects.”
“Yes, Fiendfyre would certainly destroy them and the spell is easy enough to learn. But Fiendfyre is terrible difficult to control as evident by what happened to Mr. Crabbe. It takes months to master and I assume you don’t want to wait months.”
“Correct. What about the things we used to destroy Riddle’s objects?”
“They would only damage them. Magical books are held together by powerful binding charms and protected by powerful protection spells. The only other way to destroy them is to undo these charms and spells then ordinary fire will burn them.”
“Where do I find these undo charms and spells?”
“I think any curse-breaker worth his weight will be able to help you. Bill Weasley is probably your best hope, if you wish to keep it in the family, so to speak.”
“I do. Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
“I wish you’d trust me enough to tell me what these books are so I may help you,” said McGonagall.
“Sorry Professor. Its best you don’t know,” said Harry, “The books contain knowledge that is way to dangerous. If you don’t know what it is then you can’t tell anyone.”
“They are that dangerous?”
“Yes they are. They taught Riddle how to do the things he did. I don’t think we want to risk the chance of there being another Tom Riddle in the future.”
“You are correct, Mr. Potter. We can’t risk it. Do what you must.”
“Thank you.”
Harry walked over to the fireplace and threw in a handful of Floo power, called out ‘The Shell Cottage!’ and stuck his head in the flames.
After a minute he pulled his head out and said, “Bill is at work. Fleur says he won’t be back until much later. She also said the Goblins are still not too happy with us so the next time we go to Gringotts we can expect some rude treatment.”
“What!” shouted Ron, “After what we did for them?”
“Ron,” said Hermione, “we did break into their bank and set their dragon free and sort of destroy haft the building along the way. I’d be surprised they hadn’t empty Harry’s vault to pay for the damages.”
“But we saved their sorry arses!”
“I don’t think they see things quite that way. Remember Bill said they saw the war as a wizard’s war and nothing to do with them? I think they were and are still convinced Voldemort would have left them alone.”
“I don’t believe it! We risked our lives for them and they’re going to treat us rudely?”
“Drop it, Ron,” said an exasperated Hermione, “Harry, has the Floo Network been connected to Grimmauld Place?”
“Yes. It was never disconnected.”
“Good,” she said, “Let’s go there and wait for Bill to get home. I want to see what Kreacher has done to the place. But first I’d like a bit of a walk-about around the castle.”
“Right,” said Harry turning to McGonagall, “Grimmauld Place is my new home. You’re welcome for tea anytime.”
“Thank you, Harry. I will take you up on that one day.”
“I hope you do. Professor,” said Harry looking to Dumbledore, “I wish I had another portrait of you to hang there so you could come to visit also.”
“I think that can be arranged, my dear boy,” replied Dumbledore happily.
They said their good-byes and took their leave.
The walk through the castle was a pleasant one All the damage had been repaired. As they walked they notice every so often a plaque had been placed on the wall where a defender of Hogwarts had fallen. Inscribed on the plaque was the name of the defender and which house they belonged to. It wasn’t until Ron called out to them that they realized they had unknowingly been making their way to the place Fred died.
“Look!” he said excitedly, “Here’s Fred!”
“It looks rather plain don’t you think?” said Hermione studying it, “It needs more.”
She pulled out her wand and pointed at it. Gryffindor colors appeared around the edges of the plaque.
“Better,” she said with a satisfied nod.
“’ere now, what’s ya doin’ messin’ round wif a ‘ero’s plaque?”
The three turned to see a strange middle-aged man with a long craggy face hurrying up to them. He was oddly built and looked more like a scarecrow. His arms and legs seemed to mover of their own accord, flopping around in all direction.
“Ya shouldn’t oughta be messin’ round wif no ‘ero’s plaque wif them diein’ and all ter save yer bloody arses!”
When he got closer and saw who they were he stopped in his tracks.
“Blimey! You’re ‘arry Potter!” he said with great excitement and grabbed Harry hand and started pumping it, “It’s a right pleasure ter shake the ‘and ‘o the ‘ero ‘o the wizarding world! A right pleasure indeed!”
“Who are you?” asked Harry when he finally managed to get his hand back.
“Fletcher Macmillan at yer service, Mr. Potter. The new ‘ogwarts caretaker.”
“What happened to Mr. Filch?”
“’im? ‘e retired. Said the war did ‘im in. Had enough ‘e did. Wanted the quiet life if ya know what I mean.”
“Yes I do. Well it was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Macmillan, but we have to go.”
“Me wife’ll never believe I shook the ‘and ‘o ‘arry Potter! Never in a million years!”
“Yeah, well, good-bye.”
They hurried off as fast as they could without seeming to be rude. They eventually found their way to Gryffindor tower. The fat lady finally let them in after making a fuss about how proud she was to be able to say that Harry Potter was in her house. They used the common room fireplace to Floo to Grimmauld Place.
Harry had barely stepped out of the fireplace when he was assaulted by Kreacher’s bullfrog voice:
“Master Harry, Kreacher will take care of the soot. Master Harry is getting it everywhere. Please take off your shoes. Is Master Harry hungry?”
“Of course, thank you Kreacher. Yes, I am hungry and would love something to eat. Did you do what I ordered you to do?”
“Yes, Master Harry. Kreacher has cleaned out the smallest bedroom for his own,” he said as a broad smile spread across his face, “Sit down and Kreacher with prepare food for you.”
A moment later Hermione stepped out followed by Ron a few seconds later.
“Hello Kreacher,” said Hermione.
“Greetings, Mistress Hermione. Kreacher is happy to see you and Master Ron again. Kreacher is preparing food. Please take off your shoes and sit down.”
“Thanks, Kreacher. I’m starved,” said Ron dropping into the nearest chair.
“Always thinking with your stomach aren’t you,” said Hermione rolling her eyes.
“Come on, Hermione. I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.”
“Oh, I’m just pulling your wand. I’m hungry too,” she laughed.
Soon the kitchen was filled with the wonderful smells of a cooking breakfast. Ron kept trying to kick pieces of bacon and each time he tried Kreacher would crack him over his knuckles with a wooden spoon.
“I better check to see if Mum is still among the living. I swear he’s channeling her,” he said after the third time.
Harry and Hermione laughed.
After they had finished eating Harry said, “Ron could you call Ginny and let her know we’re here?”
“Sure,” he said and went to the fireplace.
A minute later he came back.
“She’s on her way, should be here in a couple of minutes. She said Mum is still pretty steamed at you, Harry.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I could have explained things a little better instead of letting my temper get in the way,” he said as his face turned a bright red.
“Yeah, maybe you should have,” said Ron laughing.
A minute later the fireplace flared and out stepped Mrs. Weasley.
“Uh-oh,” said Harry to himself.
“Mrs. Weasley before you start in on me let me explain,” he said hurriedly, “What we are doing is not dangerous in itself. Its knowing what we want to destroy that is dangerous. No one is in mortal danger. I swear! I’m sorry about this morning. I was trying to protect you. You’re safer if you don’t know what we are trying to destroy. The fewer people who are in the know the better off everyone will be. There are still Death Eaters out there who would kill for what we have if they knew about it. I’m trying to make sure as best I can there will never be another Voldemort.”
While he was talking Ginny had arrived and was standing quietly behind her mother.
“Well, if you put it that way, I forgive you,” she said looking around the kitchen, “I can hardly believe this is Grimmauld Place. Everything is so clean.”
“Yeah, Kreacher has done a great job of it. We hid out here for a while when we were on the run,” explained Harry, “We were just about to have a look when you arrived.”
“Fine, let’s have a look, then.”
As they ascended the stairs to the front room they noticed a big, black scorch mark on the wall where Mrs. Black’s portrait used to hang.
“Kreacher,” called out Harry.
The small elf appeared in front of him.
“Yes, Master?”
“What happened to Mrs. Black?”
“When Kreacher returned home after Master Harry killed the Dark Lord he told her he had a new master. A kind master who would not harm Kreacher and would treat him with respect and would give him nice things,” he said looking fondly at the locket dangling from his neck, “He told her he would not serve her anymore and would not listen to her. She wailed about her servants betraying her and the memory of the Black family then she became so upset she burned herself up.”
“Oh, well, I guess that takes care of that. Thank you.”
Kreacher bowed and disappeared back to the kitchen. The news of Mrs. Black burning herself off the wall should had been happy, instead it brought back the stinging memory of Tonks bumping into the elephant leg umbrella stand setting off Mrs. Black.
“Come on,” said Hermione, “we still have a lot to see.”
The every room they went into had fresh, clean curtains hung over the windows. All the windows had been scrubbed and washed. The furniture had been repaired and cleaned or replaced. The old, tattered rugs where gone and in their place were new ones. Kreacher had cleaned the whole house from top to bottom and didn’t miss a spot. He had even put name plates on each of the assigned bedroom doors. Mrs. Weasley was flattered to see Harry had given her and Mr. Weasley a whole suite to themselves. After they finish their inspection they headed back to the kitchen.
They had just settled into their chairs at the table when the fireplace flared and Bill stepped out.
“Fleur said you want to talk to me Harry,” he said.
“Yes, but we weren’t expecting you so soon. Mrs. Weasley would you and Ginny please wait here? I’m not sure how long this will take.”
“Of course Harry dear, we’ll wait right here.”
Ginny shot him a dark look. Harry shrugged his shoulders and mouthed ‘Sorry’.
Harry motioned for Ron and Hermione to follow and he led them up to his bedroom.
“What’s this about?” asked Bill as they climbed the stairs.
When Harry was sure they were out of ear-shot he said, “We have three books of the most vile and evil magic you can imagine. We want to destroy them as soon as we can. We need you to remove the binding and protective spells.”
“I see. How old are the books?”
“Don’t know. Why?”
“The older the books the stronger the spells have become making them harder to remove. That why there are so many ancient books still around.”
“Really?” asked an excited Hermione.
“Yeah,” said Bill.
Arriving at Harry’s room he ushered them into the sitting room and closed the door. Hermione pulled the books out of her expandable bag and set them on the table. Bill picked up them one at a time to examine them.
“So these were the secret to Voldemort’s power.” he said in awe.
“Yes,” said Harry, “and it would be better if you kept that to yourself.”
“Trust me, I will. Well, I’d say these books are at least 800 years old so the spells are very strong. It won’t be an easy job to remove them and may take some time. First I have to determine what spells were used and if there are any traps. If there are traps it will take a lot longer. Do you have a room I can work in?”
“There’s a workroom in the back you can use.”
“Good. I’ll take next week off. Will that be soon enough?”
“That would be brilliant,” said Harry.
“Great. Let’s have a look at that room.”
They made their way back downstairs to the front room. Harry led them down a long hall to a short flight of steps leading down. The workroom was long and narrow without windows and a low ceiling. One side had a long workbench with various magical instruments scattered on its surface and many shelves. At the opposite end of the room was a tall storage cabinet filled with what they could only guess. The wall across from the bench was lined from ceiling to floor and reaching the length of the room with books. Upon seeing this Hermione let out a small sound of glee and rushed towards them.
“Don’t touch them!” warned Bill, “We don’t know if any of them are cursed or not. Let me check first.”
He held his wand parallel to the shelves and moved it up and down from ceiling to floor. Each time he found a cursed book he conjured a red dot below it. By the time he reached the other end he had marked twenty books.
“I’ll deal with them later. Aren’t you glad I stopped you Hermione? You really have to be more careful in the future when you enter an unknown room. No telling what those cursed books might have done to you if you had touched any of them.”
“Yes,” said a stunned Hermione, “Thank you. I’ll be more careful in the future.”
“Its getting late and I should be getting home. Fleur will be worried.”
They placed the books on the workbench and locked the room. Harry summoned Kreacher and instructed him that no one except the four of them were to enter the workroom at anytime. He nodded his understanding.
“Master Harry has more guests in the kitchen,” he informed him, “Kreacher told them to wait there until Master Harry came.”
“Thank you, Kreacher. Tell them we’ll be there shortly.”
The elf bowed and vanished.
Long before they got to the kitchen the mouth-watering odor of roasting chicken reached them. When they entered the kitchen they saw Mr. Weasley, George, and Fleur and joined them. Mrs. Weasley was sitting at the table looking rather forlorn.
“What’s wrong?” asked Harry.
“Kreacher won’t let Mum do any of the cooking,” answered Ginny, “He said this is his home and he’d do it.”
They all burst out laughing.
“So this is going to be your new home Harry?” asked Mr. Weasley.
“Yeah,” he answered, “For a while. After dinner I’ll show you around a bit.”
“That would be nice. The last time we were here this was a horrible place full of nasty things.”
“Kreacher has taken care of them. You won’t recognize it now.”
“That’s what Molly said.”
“Dinner,” called out Kreacher.
The topic of conversation over dinner was Grimmauld Place. Ron finally told his parents he was moving in with Harry after he and Hermione had located her parents and restored their memories. Hermione said she’d probably be moving in when they got back. Ginny wanted to join them also but Mrs. Weasley quickly vetoed the idea. Mr. Weasley wanted to know if the house was truly safe, if there were anymore hidden traps waiting to be sprung. Harry assured him that Kreacher had taken care of everything. At the end of the dinner Kreacher pushed everyone out of the kitchen so he could clean before retiring to his room for the night. Mrs. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione sat in the sitting room taking while Harry took the others on tour of his new home. Mr. Weasley was impressed with the appearance of house and the thoughtfulness of Harry in giving them their own suite when they came for an extended visit.
When they returned to the sitting room Mrs. Weasley said, “Arthur why don’t we stay the night here? It’s getting late.”
Mr. Weasley agreed. They said their good-nights went upstairs leaving the four young adults in the sitting room. Bill, Fleur, and George and already left for their homes earlier. Hermione said she was thinking about leaving for Australia in the morning to look for her parents. Ron reaffirmed he was going with her. Harry reminded them that the ceremony was next Tuesday and they should wait until then.
“Oh my gosh!” said Hermione, “I had completely forgotten! We’ll leave on Wednesday then.”
“That will be good, “said Harry, “Well, it is late. I’m for bed. I hope you enjoy your rooms.”
Printer Friendly Version
