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"Hey!"
Percy's face had gone an impressive shade of green.
Fred and George ignored him completely, dancing around Sean like a pair of over-caffeinated showmen. They rattled on about strange new alchemical gadgets they'd seen in Egypt, how brilliant they'd sell in Britain, and how Sean absolutely had to team up with them to study the stuff.
Sean actually looked interested.
Everyone else tried to lean in, but after a couple of sentences their eyes glazed over and they drifted away.
"Later, dears," Mrs Weasley said, prying the twins off Sean like she was removing barnacles. "Mr Green, lovely to see you here."
"Mum! You're trying to steal the great Green from us—"
Fred shot George a look. George grabbed her hand as if he'd only just noticed her. "Mum, seeing you is an absolute delight—"
"That's enough out of you two—"
Mrs Weasley dropped her shopping bags onto an empty chair and fixed the twins with a stare that could curdle milk. They pouted but sat down obediently.
"Come here, love—you've got so thin! You'll have to stay at the Burrow for a few days so I can fatten you up properly—"
Before Sean could escape, she pulled him into a rib-crushing hug. Crookshanks promptly jumped onto her shoulder and tickled her face with his bushy tail.
When Sean finally wriggled free, Mrs Weasley was already inspecting every young witch and wizard, fussing over them one by one.
Only when Mr Weasley gave a gentle cough did Molly reluctantly stop mauling her victims.
"Hello, my darlings. I suppose you've all heard our big news?"
She pointed proudly at the shiny silver badge on Percy's chest.
"Second Weasley boy to be made Head Boy!"
Pride practically radiated off her.
"And the last one," Fred muttered to Sean.
The twins had claimed the seats on either side of Sean like twin bodyguards, squeezing Justin and Hermione out. Hermione was still glaring at George.
"I have no doubt about that," Mrs Weasley said, then frowned. "I noticed they didn't make either of you prefects."
"What would we want to be prefects for?" George asked, looking genuinely revolted. "It would ruin all the fun."
Ginny giggled.
"You two need to set a good example for your sister!" Mrs Weasley snapped.
"Ginny's got other brothers for that, Mum," Percy said loftily.
"I'm going upstairs to change for dinner…"
He left. George let out a theatrical sigh.
"We were going to lock him in a pyramid," he told Sean.
"Mum caught us," Fred added, looking tragic.
The midday meal was wonderfully lively. Tom pushed three tables together in the main room, and the seven Weasleys plus Sean's group tucked into ten delicious courses with enthusiasm.
Before they left, Sean took one last satisfied sip of sweet pumpkin juice, set the cup down, and started mentally listing everything he still needed to do before the end of summer.
Top priority: Slytherin's locket. He planned to destroy it with Gryffindor's sword, which meant returning to Hogwarts. Perfect timing—his week off was almost over.
Next: reshaping magic. The difficulty was enormous. He had to rebuild the inner Order and find the matching outer Wisdom. But the reward would be huge—the only fast route he knew to true ancient magic.
Once he reached Master level with Fiendfyre, he'd unlock the new title as well.
As for Sirius and Scabbers…
The Leaky Cauldron was filled with the low murmur of customers. Sean and the others threaded through the corridor between private rooms.
Suddenly Ron slapped his forehead.
"My tonic! The rat-strengthening potion! I left it behind!"
"And where's my Head Boy badge?!" Percy came thundering down the stairs—he was sharing a room with Ron.
"How should I know? I've never even seen it! I was going to ask you the same thing about my rat tonic!"
The two brothers started shouting at each other.
Justin and Hermione rushed in to separate them.
To stop the argument, Sean quietly slipped away. "I'll go look."
"I'll come with you," Harry said quickly.
They'd only gone a few steps when angry voices spilled from one of the private rooms. They recognised Mr and Mrs Weasley at once.
"…it's wrong not to tell Harry."
Mr Weasley sounded unusually heated.
"Harry has the right to know. I tried to convince Fudge, but he insists on treating Harry like a child. He's thirteen, Molly—he—"
Harry froze mid-step.
"Arthur, the truth will terrify him!" Mrs Weasley cried.
"The danger is real! Do you really want him going back to school with that hanging over him? For heaven's sake, he'd be happier not knowing!"
"I don't want to frighten him—I want him to be on his guard!" Mr Weasley shot back.
"You know what Harry's like! He wanders off on his own—he even went into the Forbidden Forest! He absolutely cannot do that this term! I dread to think what could have happened the night he ran away from home. If the Knight Bus hadn't picked him up, I'm certain the Ministry would have found him dead!"
"But he's fine, he's safe—what's the point—"
"Molly, they're saying Black is mad, and maybe he is, but he still managed to escape from Azkaban when everyone swore it was impossible. It's been a whole month and not a single sighting. I don't care what Fudge keeps telling the Prophet—we're getting nowhere catching Black. It's like trying to invent a self-writing quill.
There's only one thing we can be sure of: Black is looking for—"
"But Harry is perfectly safe at Hogwarts."
"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe too. If Black could break out of Azkaban, he can break into Hogwarts."
"But no one can prove Black is after Harry—"
Thump. Something slammed against wood—Mr Weasley must have punched the table.
"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? The papers didn't report it because Fudge wanted it hushed up, but the night Black escaped, Fudge went straight to Azkaban. The guards told him that for a long time Black had been muttering the same thing over and over in his sleep:
'He's at Hogwarts… he's at Hogwarts.'
Black is deranged, Molly. He wants Harry dead. As far as he's concerned, killing Harry will bring You-Know-Who back. The night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, Black lost everything. He's spent twelve years alone in Azkaban thinking about nothing else…"
The room fell silent.
Beside Sean, Harry stood frozen, mouth hanging open.