Percy Jackson and the Locket of Salazar [Book 6]

27) Katie Gets Crucified

Once we were done in the sweet shop, we bundled our scarves around our faces and began the trek toward the Three Broomsticks. Due to the cold, it was rather lifeless outside, everyone having found some hole to huddle up in, save for two figures standing outside the Three Broomsticks.

I recognized both of them. Aberforth Dumbledore, the barman of the Hog's Head, drew away from the shorter man and rushed off. The other man fumbled with whatever had been left in his arms.

I suppose of all my least-favorite people, Mundungus was my favorite. He was amusing and oftentimes funny, even if he always smelled of smoke and sold items that were Not Good.

"Mundungus!" Harry called once he recognized the man, too. This startled the conniving little bitch, leading him to drop a suitcase that looked older than the decrepit mummy that used to house the Oracle (the attic was much more pleasant to visit these days).

"Oh, 'ello," Mundungus said, not at all casual as he scrambled to pick up all the junk that had spilled out of the suitcase. "Well, don't let me keep ya."

"Are you selling this stuff?" I asked curiously, taking a closer look. Ron stepped up with me, apparently eager to see some junk.

"Oh, well, gotta scrape a living," Mundungus said. "Gimme that!"

Ron had bent down and picked up a silver goblet. "Hang on. This looks familiar!"

"Thank you!" Mundungus snatched the goblet away from Ron and stuffed it back in with the other apparently stolen knickknacks. "Well, I'll see you all — OUCH!"

I probably could have stopped it, but I really didn't want to. Harry had lunged forward and pinned Mundungus to the wall of the pub by his throat, pulling out his wand.

"Harry!" Hermione squeaked.

"You took that from Sirius' house," Harry said, sneering inches away from the man's face. "That had the Black family crest on it."

"I — no — what?" Mundungus said, voice strangely high, face turning just a bit purple.

"What did you do, go back the night he died and strip the place?" Harry snapped.

"I — no —"

"Give it to me!"

"Harry, you mustn't!" Hermione cried, and, seeing as Mundungus' face was officially blue, I had decided that was about time to put an end to things. Thankfully, I didn't have to get my hands dirty, as there was a sudden BANG, and Harry's hands flew away from the man's throat. Mundungus grabbed onto his case, wheezing, then, with a crack, Disapparated.

Harry swore then wheeled around to the spot where Mundungus had last been. "COME BACK, YOU THIEVING —"

"There's no point, Harry," Tonks said, still looking worse for wear. Her mousy hair was drenched with the sleet, and her eyes were still missing their bright color. "Mundungus will probably be in London by now. There's no point yelling."

"He nicked Sirius' stuff! Nicked it!"

"Yes, but still," Tonks seemed rather unbothered by this development, "you should get out of the cold." She watched as we trudged into the Three Broomsticks.

As soon as the door closed, Harry yelled, "He was nicking Sirius' stuff!"

"I know, Harry, but please don't shout, people are staring," Hermione whispered, as if the low volume would counter Harry's loudness. "Go and sit down, I'll get the drinks."

And so we sat silently for a few minutes until Hermione returned with the bottles of Butterbeer. As soon as she sat down, Harry whispered angrily, "Can't the Order control Mundungus? Can't they at least stop him stealing everything that's not fixed down when he's at Headquarters?"