Phoenix

Planning Meeting

"God, What is that?" I asked holding my nose.

"It's my Ghoul," said Ron.

"Your What?"

"Come see." Ron led us to the attic bed where the ghoul was lying under the covers. He had an orange wig on his head and was wearing Ron's pajamas.

"He's me, see?" said Ron.

"No," said Harry. "I don't."

"I'll explain it back in my room, the smell's getting to me," said Ron. We climbed back down the ladder, which Ron returned to the ceiling, and rejoined Hermione, who was still sorting books. I stood by the door.

"Once we've left, the ghoul's going to come and live down here in my room," said Ron. "I think he's really looking forward to it — well, it's hard to tell, because all he can do is moan and drool — but he nods a lot when you mention it. Anyway, he's going to be me with spattergroit. Good, eh?"

Harry merely looked his confusion.

"It is!" said Ron, clearly frustrated that Harry had not grasped the brilliance of the plan. "Look, when we three don't turn up at Hogwarts again, everyone's going to think Hermione and I must be with you, right? Which means the Death Eaters will go straight for our families to see if they've got information on where you are."

"But hopefully it'll look like I've gone away with Mum and Dad; a lot of Muggle-borns are talking about going into hiding at the moment," said Hermione.

"We can't hide my whole family, it'll look too fishy and they can't all leave their jobs," said Ron. "So we're going to put out the story that I'm seriously ill with spattergroit, which is why I can't go back to school. If anyone comes calling to investigate, Mum or Dad can show them the ghoul in my bed, covered in pustules. Spattergroit's really contagious, so they're not going to want to go near him. It won't matter that he can't say anything, either, because apparently you can't once the fungus has spread to your uvula."

"And your mum and dad are in on this plan?" asked Harry.

"Dad is. He helped Fred and George transform the ghoul. Mum . . . well, you've seen what she's like. She won't accept we're going till we've gone."

There was a long silence.

"What about you, Kendra?" asked Harry.

"My dad understands. Besides it was kinda my job at SHIELD to make sure Voldemort doesn't win. It wouldn't look to good to have the future head of SHIELD failing on missions."

"Future head?" asked Hermione. I nodded as they looked on in shock.

"Coulson died over the summer... and he left my as the director. Well he put a placeholder Director in place and said I could have the job whenever I was ready."

"Blimey," said Ron.

"What we really need to decide," said Hermione, tossing Defensive Magical Theory into the bin without a second glance and picking up An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, "is where we're going after we leave here. I know you said you wanted to go to Godric's Hollow first, Harry, and I understand why, but . . . well . . . shouldn't we make the Horcruxes our priority?"

"If we knew where any of the Horcruxes were, I'd agree with you," said Harry.

"I know it's important to you because of your parents," I said. "but Voldemort could have spies there waiting for you. It isn't unreasonable to think you would go to the place of your parents death."

"This R.A.B. person," Ron said. "You know, the one who stole the real locket?"

"He said in his note he was going to destroy it, didn't he?" Harry dragged his rucksack toward him and pulled out the fake Horcrux in which R.A.B.'s note was still folded.