Wish Upon A Star

Harry's hearing

"Cover your faces and take a spray," Mrs Weasley instructed.

"It's Doxycide. I've never seen an infestation this bad - what that house-elf's been doing for the last ten years -"

Hermione's face was half concealed by a tea towel but anyone could see her throw a reproachful look at Mrs Weasley at these words.

"Kreacher's really old, he probably couldn't manage -"

"You'd be surprised what Kreacher can manage when he wants to, Hermione," said Sirius, who had just entered the room carrying a bloodstained bag of what appeared to be dead rats.

"I've just been feeding Buckbeak," he added, in reply to Harry's inquiring look. "I keep him upstairs in my mother's bedroom. Anyway . . . this writing desk . . ."

He dropped the bag of rats onto an armchair, then bent over to examine the locked cabinet which, was shaking slightly.

"Well, Molly, I'm pretty sure this is a boggart," said Sirius, peering through the keyhole, "but perhaps we ought to let Mad-Eye have a shifty at it before we let it out - knowing my mother it could be something much worse."

"Right you are, Sirius," said Mrs Weasley.

A loud, clanging bell sounded from downstairs, followed at once by the cacophony of screams and wails that had been triggered the previous night by Tonks knocking over the umbrella stand.

"I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell!" said Sirius exasperatedly, hurrying back out of the room. They heard him thundering down the stairs as Mrs Black's screeches echoed up through the house once more:

"Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth . . ."

"Close the door, please, Harry," said Mrs Weasley.

Mrs Weasley was bending over to check the page on doxies in Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests, which was lying open on the sofa.

"Right, you lot, you need to be careful, because doxies bite and their teeth are poisonous. I've got a bottle of antidote here, but I'd rather nobody needed it."

She straightened up, positioned herself squarely in front of the curtains, and beckoned them all forward.

"When I say the word, start spraying immediately," she said. "They'll come flying out at us, I expect, but it says on the sprays one good squirt will paralyze them. When they're immobilized, just throw them in this bucket."

She stepped carefully out of their line of fire and raised her own spray. "All right - squirt!"

Ashlyn stared as Fred held a doxy between his fingers, examining it. She was thinking about their joke shop. It was going to be a blast, and this year too, except for Umbridge...Maybe it wouldn't hurt. Maybe she could take a small break.

She let out a small scoff. That was the dumbest idea ever...If she needed a break, she can just take it out on Umbridge, maybe give Peeves ideas...

"Fred, what are you doing?" said Mrs Weasley sharply, snapping Ashlyn out of her thoughts. "Spray that at once and throw it away!"

"Right-o," Fred said brightly, spraying the doxy quickly in the face so that it fainted. Then he slipped it into his pocket. When he noticed Ashlyn staring at him, he winked at her.

Ashlyn sighed wearily and went back to her work.

The de-doxying of the curtains took most of the morning. It was past midday when Mrs Weasley finally removed her protective scarf, sank into a sagging armchair, and sprang up again with a cry of disgust, having sat on the bag of dead rats. The curtains were no longer buzzing; they hung limp and damp from the intensive spraying; unconscious doxies lay crammed in the bucket at the foot of them beside a bowl of their black eggs, at which Crookshanks was now sniffing and Fred and George were shooting covetous looks.