Right Now Could Last Forever

I lay on the couch in front of the fireplace in the common room. I had been here for days; not having been to any of my classes. My hair was messy and disgusting, so I had it tied in a loose bun atop my head. As for clothes, I wore a sweat pants and an old shirt with my Dad’s favourite band written on the front.

I stared up at the ceiling of the circler room, tracing the odd pattern of it with my eyes for the millionth time. My heart was empty and lost without my wand, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. My tongue traced absent minded over my cut lip (which I had refused to get healed).

“This is getting ridiculous, Blondie,” George said, pulling me out of my trance momentarily.
I mustn’t have heard everyone enter the common room, for it appeared that everyone was back; already changed out of their robes.

“Mmm?” I said, sitting up so the twins could sit on either side of me.

“You need to get some fresh-air, it really isn’t healthy,” Fred said matter-of-factly, reminding me of Hermione a bit. “Come have dinner with us.”

“No thanks, I’m not hungry,” I said, trying to stand up so I could get away from them from the first time.

“It’s not that long until the end of the year; you can get a new one then. Until then, I’m sure McGonagall has a spare wand,” George said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back down on the couch.

“I don’t want someone else’s wand,” I snapped at him. “Don’t you get it? I want my wand back. I don’t want to have to use someone’s crappy cast-of.”

I knew it was stupid to argue, because of course they were right. I couldn’t just sit around for the next couple of months not going to classes and waiting until a time that I could go to Diagon Alley to get a new wand.

“And if you’re really fussed, I’ll let you use my wand,” Fred said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the wand in question. I looked at it blankly when he offered it to me.

“A-are you sure?” I said.

For a witch or wizard, their wand was the most important thing to them, so to give up your wand temporarily to another - or to have it forcibly removed or broken - was a hard thing to have to do. Yet, here was Fred not even having to give a second thought to what he was doing.

“Take it,” he encouraged.

I hesitated, but grabbed the solid piece of wood by its handle, feeling its weight in my hand. The handle reminded me a bit of a pinecone, and I had to let my hand adjust to the feel of it on my skin. I silently cursed myself for my stubbornness, but looked up and smiled at Fred.

“Thank you,” I said genuinely.

“Just don’t go breaking it,” Fred said.

-

Hedwig didn’t return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy’s letter was enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs Weasley had sent. Ron, Harry and mine were the size of dragon eggs, and full of home-made toffee. Hermione’s, however, was smaller than a chicken’s egg. Her face fell when she saw it.

“Your mum doesn’t read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” said Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. “Gets it for the recipes.”

Hermione looked sadly at her tiny egg.

“Don’t you want to see what Percy’s written?” Harry asked her hastily.

Percy’s letter was short and irritable.

‘As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven’t actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior’s hand-writing. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumours. Please don’t bother me again unless it’s something important. Happy Easter.’

-

The start of the summer term would have meant that I was training for the last Quidditch match of the season. However, this year it was the third and final task in the Triwizard Tournament for which we were trying to help Harry prepare for.

At half past eight in the last week of May, Harry left us in the common room to go to the Quidditch Pitch, where the four champions were required to meet.

A couple of hours later, Harry clambered through the portrait hole into the common room, and hurried straight for the corner where Ron, Hermione and I were sitting, to tell us what had happened.

“It comes down to this,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “Either Mr Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn’t looking.”

“It must’ve been Crouch,” said Ron at once. “That’s why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He’d done a runner.”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry, shaking his head. “He seemed really weak – I don’t reckon he was up to Disapparating or anything.”

“You can’t Disapparate in the Hogwarts grounds, haven’t I told you enough times?” said Hermione.
“OK... how’s this for a theory,” said Ron excitedly. “Krum attacked Crouch – no, wait for it – and then Stunned himself!”

“And Mr Crouch evaporated, did he?” said Hermione coldly.

“Oh, yeah...”

It was daybreak. The four of us had crept out of our dormitories very early, and hurried up to the Owlery together to send a note to Sirius. Now we were standing looking out at the misty grounds. All four of us were puffy-eyed and pale, because we had been talking late into the night about Mr Crouch.

“Just go through it again, Harry,” I said. “What did Mr Crouch actually say?”

“I’ve told you, he wasn’t making much sense,” said Harry. “He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault... he mentioned his son.”

“Well, that was his fault,’ said Hermione testily.

“He was out of his mind,” said Harry. “Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.”

“And... remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?” said Ron tentatively.

“I’ve told you,” Harry repeated dully. “He said he’s getting stronger.”

There was a pause.

Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice, “But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving...”

“He was sanest when he was talking about Voldemort,” said Harry, ignoring Ron’s wince. “He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore.”

Harry turned away from the window and stared up into the rafters.

“If Snape hadn’t held me up,” Harry said bitterly, “we might’ve got there in time. “The Headmaster is busy, Potter... what’s this rubbish, Potter?” Why couldn’t he have just got out of the way?”

“Maybe he didn’t want you to get there,” I said quickly. “Maybe – hang on – how fast d’you reckon he could’ve got down to the forest? D’you reckon he could’ve beaten you and Dumbledore there?”

“Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,” said Harry.

“Wouldn’t put it past him,” I muttered.

“I need to see Professor Moody,” said Hermione. “We need to find out whether he found Mr Crouch.”

“If he had the Marauder’s Map on him, it would’ve been easy,” said Harry.

“Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,” said Ron, “because it only shows up the boundaries, doesn’t –“

“Shh!” said Hermione suddenly.

Somebody was climbing the steps up to the Owlery. I could hear two familiar voices arguing, coming closer and closer.

“- that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that –“

“- we’ve tried being polite, it’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did –“

“I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail!”

“Yeah, and you won’t be complaining if we get a nice fat pay-off, will you?”

The Owlery door banged open. Fred and George came over the threshold, then froze at the sight of the four of us.

“What’re you doing here,” said Harry and George in unison.

“What, at this time?” said Hermione and Fred.

Fred grinned, and so did I. “Fine – we won’ ask you what you’re doing, if you don’t ask us,” he said.

He was holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifted his hand so that the name on it was covered. I’d bet his wand that I knew who it was to.

“Well, don’t let us hold you up,” he said, making a mock bow, and pointing at the door.

Ron didn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he said.

The grin vanished from Fred’s face. I saw George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.

“Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he said easily.

“Didn’t sound like that,” said Ron.

Fred and George looked at each other.

“They’ve told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is,” I said, nudging Ron in the ribs to try and get him to shut up.

“Can’t see why you would, but –“ Fred said.

“It’s my business if they’re blackmailing someone,” said Ron. “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.

“Told you, I was joking,” said George. He walked over to Fred, pulled the ltter out of his hands, and began attaching it to the leg of Calandra. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a Prefect.”

“No, I won’t!” said Ron hotly.

George carried my owl over to the window and he took off. He turned and grinned at Ron.
“Well stop telling people what to do then. Oh, and I hope you didn’t mind, Samuels; about borrowing Calandra. See you later.”

He and Fred left the Owlery.

“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Hermione whispered, mainly to me. “About Crouch and everything?”

“No,” I said. “It’s nothing about that, trust me. If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone.”

Ron, however, was looking uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter?” Hermione asked him.

“Well...” said Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re... they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was hanging around with them – when – you know –“

“We weren’t talking, “Harry finished the sentence for him. “Yeah, but blackmail...”

“It’s this joke-shop idea they’ve got,” said Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.”

It was almost as if they had forgotten that I was part of Fred and George’s joke-shop plan, but I kept my mouth shut, wanting to know what they all thought. Hermione was looking uncomfortable now. “Yes, but... they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold. Would they?”

“Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking sceptical. “I dunno... they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?”

“Yes, but this is the law,” said Hermione, looking scared. “This isn’t some silly school rule... they’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron... maybe you’d better tell Percy?”

“Are you mad?” I said, cutting in. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in – and if you hadn’t noticed, I’d be handed in too.”

They all looked at me sheepishly.

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”