Before the Dawn | George Weasley

41

A week after Valentine's Day, the Quibbler published an article, an interview, that changed everything.

Rita Skeeter, formerly a columnist for the Daily Prophet, had interviewed Harry and asked him about his experience facing Voldemort during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament. In the interview Harry not only described that night in excruciating detail, but named several Death Eaters who had assisted Voldemort in his return and remained faithful.

A new decree was passed by Umbridge within hours of learning about the publication, banning the Quibbler from school grounds, but it was far too late. There were at least four copies that I knew of circulating the student body disguised as Herbology textbooks, and everyone who'd already read it was talking about it.

I quickly tracked down Draco in the library that same morning, sitting at a table with Crabbe, Goyle, and Theo—all of whose parents had been named by Harry in the article. I pulled up a seat next to Draco, whose face was livid.

"I expect you've read it, then," he said in a low voice.

I nodded. "Nabbed a copy from a first year."

We fell into a moody silence, and I followed Draco's gaze to where Harry and Hermione sat at a table across the room. My eyes met Hermione's, and she smiled slightly, whispering something to Harry.

"The worst bit is I can't even hex him for it," muttered Draco. "Because that would mean I'd read the article, and Umbridge has already banned it from the grounds."

"We'll get him back, don't you worry," I said darkly, narrowing my eyes as Harry glanced over with a smug expression. "He'll get what's coming to him."

"Oh, I'm not worried," Draco said, his lip curling as he caught sight of Harry's face.

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Potter's going to get what he deserves," growled Theo. "He and all his little friends."

I looked between them. "Let me know how I can be of help."

Draco nodded, staring daggers at Harry. I joined him, wondering just how bad things were about to get.

* * * * * *

A month after the publication of the article, the D.A. met for our weekly lesson.

In the times George and I had managed to meet up in secret, he'd been especially affectionate, apparently trying to make up for the Hogsmeade fiasco, despite my reassurances that my feelings for him had not been dampened at all.

Now, in the Room of Requirement, we were reviewing the Patronus charm, and those of us who had managed it before were tasked with helping those who hadn't yet.

I found myself assisting Seamus, who had experienced a change of heart following Harry's interview and had decided to believe him about the Dark Lord's return. He looked to me with aggravation on his face, unable to get the spell to work.

"What's the memory you're using?" I asked in a low voice.

"It's from my first year, when I first met Dean," he replied, just as quietly. "We'd somehow gotten locked in our train compartment and I had tried an unlockin' charm but accidently blew up the door handle. I didn't think it was funny at first, nearly burnt my eyebrows clean off, but Dean couldn't stop laughin', so I started laughin', and it was one the happiest moments I've had."

I smiled. "Alright, that sounds like it should work. Tell me, what is the most vivid part of that memory to you? What part are you focusing on when you cast the charm?"