Lumos

32| The Missing Sword

Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, was a slim old guy with long hair and a scrunched up face, a permanent scowl etched upon his features. I watched from the top of the stairs as he entered the room where Harry sat with his two trusted friend. Leaning closer to get a better angle on what they were saying, Fred and George appeared at my sides, startling me.

"Guys!" I sputtered as Scrimgeour looked up at us, slamming the door behind him. I crossed my arms over my chest, scowling at the both of them. "Really, though?"

"We've got these," George said, a smirk on his face. He raised a couple of Extendable Ears, tossing me one and Fred the other. How I could tell the difference now . . . well, that was a secret (it wasn't very hard when you knew one of them was missing an ear).

"You should use one of these permanently," I said, pointing at my ear with a smirk.

"Oi!"

"Hey!"

Both the boys turned on me as I snickered, turning around to drop the ear below. Two others dropped on either side of mine.

"Albus Dumbledore . . . for the three of you." I heard small snippets of the conversation, leaning further to hear clearer. "Hermione . . . a book."

"Beedle . . . Bard?" Ron's voice got louder. ". . . Favorite childhood book!"

"I know about the Tales of Beedle the Bard. Mum used to read it to us all the time!" Fred whispered. George and I shushed him, leaning even further over the railing.

"Don't tell me . . . don't know about it. Babbity . . . Cackling Stump."

"Why are they talking about a children's book?" I asked, this time, the twins shushing me.

"For Ron . . . Deluminator."

"He's giving them things from Dumbledore," I concluded. "I've seen the Deluminator in use before. It belonged to Dumbledore. It captures light."

"Harry . . ." Scrimgeour's gravelly voice continued, "snitch."

"What would Harry do with a snitch?" I wondered out loud, suddenly losing my balance. I almost fell over the edge as someone caught me, pulling me back.

"C'mon, El, it's not worth risking your life for," Fred teased, and I blushed, wriggling out of his arms.

"Focus, both of you." I gave the thread that connected to the ear a little swing, grinning in victory when it landed just below the door frame.

"Why would Dumbledore give you a snitch?" Ron asked. Harry didn't reply, and I assumed he was shrugging.

"I noticed your cake was in the shape of a snitch," the Minister's voice was suspicious. "Why is that?"

"Because . . . I'm a seeker," Harry said in a matter-of-fact voice. His voice was full of sass. I bit back a laugh.

"There was one more thing," Scrimgeour continued. "The sword of Gryffindor."

"So where is it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Unfortunately," said Scrimgeour, "that sword was not Dumbledore's to give away. The sword of Godric Gryffindor is an important historical artefact, and as such, belongs-"

"It belongs to Harry!" said Hermione hotly. "It chose him, he was the one who found it, it came to him out of the Sorting Hat-"

"According to reliable historical sources, the sword may present itself to any worthy Gryffindor," said Scrimgeour. "That does not make it the exclusive property of Mr Potter."

I could practically hear the three of them fuming. I heard the scrape of the table as Harry's knees pushed it, standing up. "You have no right. You've done nothing so far . . ."