Chapter Six: Spied

   Bang bang bang bang. Harry stood outside Number 3 Silver Street in Ottery St. Mary in Devon, the home of Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Bilius Weasley, banging relentlessly upon their wooden front door, which was painted a cheery red. Harry raised his fist to start banging again when he heard a shuffling noise and an irritated sounding voice coming from the other side of the door. "For Merlin's sake, keep your knickers on! I'm coming, I'm coming!," rang out Ron's voice. Then: "Who is it? Who's there?"
   "Open up Ron, it's me," Harry replied impatiently. Finally, a series of clicks and clanks told Harry that Ron was unlocking the door at last. It swung open to reveal a disheveled looking Ron who had clearly been sleeping prior to Harry's rather rude interruption. The deep set frown on his face vanished however and changed into a look akin to fear when he saw who was standing on his porch. "Harry! What's up? What's wrong, mate?"
   "Let me inside, will you? It's not something I'd like to advertise to the whole neighborhood," Harry shot back, still anxious for Ron to let him in so he could explain.
   "Oh, yeah... come on in," Ron stood back and held the door aloft, waiting for Harry to step over the threshold. Once inside, Ron closed the door back behind them and relocked it a soft click. "Have a seat in the kitchen mate and I'll go wake Hermione. She'll brew us up a spot of tea." With these words Ron disappeared up a creaky staircase to an upper floor as Harry turned to his right and made his way into an open, brightly colored kitchen with a large island having pride of place. Several bar stools surrounded the island and Harry chose one to slide out and have a seat on. He sat looking around the dimly lit room with mild interest as he awaited the reemergence of Ron and a sleepy Hermione. Muffled thumping noises from somewhere in the hall told him that they were finally coming downstairs. Hermione entered the room first. Her hair stuck out in odd places and a blue robe was tied tightly at her waist. Dark circles under her eyes showed signs of lack of sleep. Harry began to feel silly now that he was here. What had he been thinking? It was late. He was sitting in the kitchen of his best friends' house while they stood, ruffled and disgruntled, looking at him as though he'd suddenly sprouted a second head.
   "Er... sorry to have woken you guys," Harry broke the silence at last, ducking his head slightly as though afraid sparks were apt to fly out of the end of Hermione's wand which was clutched loosely in her right hand, or more likely, her eyes.
   "Yes, well you'd better have a really good explanation Harry James Potter because I have to be up in three hours for work!," Hermione admonished him in a rather shrill voice. Better jump straight into it, thought Harry.
   "I saw someone in the mirror," he blurted out a bit stupidly.
   "Um... was it you you saw in the mirror?," Ron asked timidly as though fearful for the state of Harry's sanity.
   "What? No, of course not. I meant Sirius' mirror," Harry clarified. "I dunno why but something told me to pull it out tonight, so I did. I dug it up out of my old school trunk and looked in it. Nothing happened right away, but as I was getting ready to put it back in the trunk, I saw something there! When I looked again, I saw an eye. Just like before when I was seeing Aberforth's and thought it was Dumbledore. This eye was brown though," Harry finished explaining in a rush of breath.
   "Well whose eye was it?," this time Hermione spoke up.
   "Well if I knew that I wouldn't very well be sitting in your kitchen at three in the morning, would I?"
   "No need to get smart. I'll remind you that you are in my kitchen at three in the morning and that you woke me up!," Hermione snarled.
   "You're right, I'm really sorry! It's just that I don't know who it could possibly be, but it worries me. I think maybe Ron's dad was right. The Death Eaters really are back in action."
   "But why? Voldemort is gone-oh, Ron! you had no trouble saying it years before-there hasn't been any activity in years! Not since you and the other Aurors rounded up the last of his known followers a year or so after the war!"
   "I know. It doesn't make sense. But all the signs point to it! The Dark Mark, new crops of Death Eaters... and someone's obviously watching me."
   "Why would they be watching you, mate?," wondered Ron aloud.
   "Well isn't it obvious? Harry is-was Head Auror. If they had a way to keep tabs on him without being obvious, of course they would jump at the chance! But it is a bit of a comfort actually..."
   "A comfort? How do you mean? I don't find Death Eaters keeping up with my whereabouts very comforting, if you ask me.," Harry replied incredulously.
   "Well I mean to say that if they still consider Harry a threat then that means that they can't have very much information, can they? I mean-no offense Harry-they obviously don't realize that Harry isn't as good as he used to be. They might not know that he isn't even at the Ministry anymore.," Hermione rationalized. She stood now and walked over to a small stove. Pulling a copper kettle from a cabinet overhead, she filled it with water from the tap and set it on the stove top. Prodding the burner with the tip of her wand, bright blue flames began to dance there, setting the water to boil. The three of them remained silent in the dim kitchen as Hermione bustled about making them tea.
   Minutes later when Hermione rejoined the two men at the island, balancing the tea set in midair with her wand and placing it gently in front of them, Harry broke the silence at last. "I reckon you might be right. They can't know anything. I mean that mirror's been inside my trunk for ages. I think maybe they've just been checking it on a regular basis on the off chance I'd look into it. But even so, they didn't see much other than my face."
   "Well..."
   "What is it Hermione?"
   "I was just thinking that that might give them a small clue. I mean, face it Harry, you don't look your best! You know it's true, don't give me that look!"
   "You're right. I'm not in top form. But that still doesn't mean that I'm just going to sit back and wait for the Death Eaters to come find me!"
   "I didn't suggest you should! I'm just saying that if they think you've gone to seed, Harry, they might be more apt to attack! Think you an easy target.," Hermione defended her statements.
   "Well, then, let them underestimate me! I'm going to be ready for them. Somehow, some way, I'm going to get myself back into top form. I've got to protect myself. My family.," he looked meaningfully at Ron and Hermione both with his last words. "Are you two with me or not?," he demanded at last.
   "Of-of course we are!," squeaked Hermione.
   "You bet your saggy bottom we are!," Ron responded with a rather mischievous grin that would've made Professor McGonagall blanch. The sounds of them slurping their tea filled the room as the trio sat and pondered what was to come.