Chapter17
Harry
Twomonthsago,hehadtoldKingsleyabouttheboxthatheandDraohadfound.
Aboutthepituresonthefloor,andtheeffortittooktoopenit,howHermionethoughttheydeservedahanetolookatifbeforetheministrytookitawayAboutthejournalinside,themaps,thenotes,thelettersbetweenMad-EyeandDumbledore.Howdespiteeverythingtheywentthrough,itseemedlikeitstillmightnotbeover.
Kingsleyhadsiftedthroughallofit,theexpressiononhisfaeneverhanging.Harrywantedtoaskwhathewasthinkingbutbitdownonhislipinstead,hardenoughthatheknewtherewouldbeamarkleftbehind.Finally,heouldn’ttakeitanymore.“So?”
Kingsleydidn’tanswerrightaway,justreahedupandfiddledwiththegoldhoopearringhealwayswore.Harrytriedtotellhimselfthatwasasignofaleaderwhothinksbeforehespeaksratherthananervoustik.“Mightbenothing.”
“Butitmightbesomething.”Harrydidn’twantittobeanything,beausethis,thosenamesstaringupathimandthepeopleMad-Eyehadsaidtheykilled,thosewerestillhisresponsibility,hisfight.
“Itmightbe,”Kingsleysnapstheleatherjournalhewasleafingthroughshut,andshoveditallintohisdeskdrawer,likehewasputtingawaymeddlesomepaperwork.“Justletmedealwithit.”
“But—”
“Potter.”Hewasthekindofmanwhoinspiresonfidene,andKingsleyisabletostopanyprotestswithonlyafewwordsandahandonHarry’sshoulder.“Letmehandleit.I’llletyouknowifIturnanythingup.Butuntilthen?”He’susheringHarryoutoftheoffie,andHarryouldimaginehimlokingthedoorbehindhim,openingthatdrawerbakup,andombingthroughit,beausetheybothknewthateventhoughpeoplealledMad-Eyerazy,heknewathreatwhenhesawone.“Don’ttellanyone.”
Thatwastwomonthsago,andHarryhadtrikedhimselfintothinkingthatmaybeitwasn’tarealproblem,thatthefightwasatuallyover.
Hethoughtthat,butnowhe’shavinganOrdermeetinginhiskithen.
Hereallythoughtthatthispartofhislifewasdoneandoverwith,butapparentlynot,beauseherehewas,allingforquietinhisownhousewiththeremnantsoftheOrderandDumbledore’sArmystaringbakathim.