"Nice to know," Harry yawned. "Just keep reading, I'm going to chat with Ron if he's snapped out of comatose state. Tell me if you find anything that kind of stands out."
***
Attempting to talk to Ron had again failed. Harry surmised that he shouldn't be suprised, but he still was. Shrugging, he turned to Ginny and the pair of them walked out on Ron again.
"Makes me wonder when he'd snap out of it." Ginny said, becoming slightly frustrated now.
"Ah, well," Harry said. "He'd be reacting a lot better than I had this summer, with Sirius and all..."
His voice trailed out awkwardly, and Harry felt as if he had a huge wad of cotton stuffed down his throat.
"I sincerely hope that the world will recognize him as a hero." Ginny said sadly. "They still think he's a mass murderer. Most don't even know he's dead."
Charlie joined them. "You know, it's a good example of first impressions," he said abruptly. "My family all thought he was a serial killer. Oh, you should've seen the look on dad's face when Sirius stepped into the room. Fell out of his chair, he did."
"He took to Sirius quite well, though," Ginny added. "Once he had gotten to know him a bit. Like everyone else. When Kingsley met him, he whipped out his wand and Dumbledore was forced to Stun him."
"The twins were best in the family with him," Charlie sighed. "When they found out his nickname was Padfoot, they nearly worshipped him for the first three hours. I don't really know why, it's just a nickname."
What Charlie didn't know was that Fred and George had discovered the Marauder's Map, which were founded by four passed-by Hogwarts students nicknamed Padfoot, Prongs, Moony, and Wormtail(as inscribed in the title). Padfoot was Sirius, of course. Moony was Lupin, Wormtail was the infamous Peter Pettigrew, and Prongs was no other than Harry's own father.
AUTHOR's----Sorry, it's even more filler. I can't think of anything interesting right now.
Their impromptu stroll carried them through the back door into the backyard. It wasn't very cold outside, nor was it very warm. The sun was already at its zenith, hidden behind a rolling blanket of soft grey clouds.
Ginny was the only one to shiver.
"It's cold out, can we go back inside?"
"Chin up, Ginny," Charlie snorted. "Should've worn your jumper. It's a family tradition, after all. Even Percy's wearing his."
"Yes, well, it was rather warm inside, so I took it off."
Harry had forgotten about Percy. The slightly uptight Weasley brother had been with the Ministry for the majority of the holidays, considering the Muggle attacks happening several days before the start of the Christmas holidays.
In truth, he couldn't really care for Percy. He had not quite forgotten the incident last year, where he had been held trial for using underage magic. Back then, Percy was very much sided with Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, who turned out to be quite horrible to Harry. Of course, Harry hadn't really 'forgiven' the Minister either.
"What's on your mind, Harry?" Hermione's voice brought him back into the world.
"Oh, ah...well, if you must know, I was thinking of the trial last summer."
"Wish I could've been there with you," she sighed. "I had done some research on other trials, but of course I wasn't allowed to go there. And Dumbledore turned up, so..."
"And Dumbledore made the difference," Harry told her. "Ha, not once did he raise his voice. Fudge was nearly screaming, though. What a moron."
AUTHOR'S REPLY-----I hope to make this a long one.
It was true; Fudge had lost his temper with Dumbledore and yet Dumbledore was calm and collected as ever. Which seemed to make Fudge even more angry.
"If the Daily Prophet had gotten hold of what he said, the general public would have had something to say about it."
"Probably not," Charlie snorted. "The Daily Prophet were even more like ballonheads. Idiots, they were."
"Can't argue with that." Bill said.
"Hear, hear." Harry, Hermione, and Ginny said heartily.
"Has Harry seen Fudge ever since last summer?" Bill asked.
"No," Harry replied. "Thank heavens, I might add."
Ginny, Hermione, and Charlie laughed, but Bill didn't.
"You should really make amends with him, you know." he said thoughtfully.
Harry laughed at this idea. "What'm I supposed to do, run up to the Ministry and say. 'I've forgiven you, Minister'?"
"I didn't mean it like that," Bill said patiently. "The next time you encounter him, talk to him."
Harry shrugged, unsure of what he would really do.
***
Lunch was a simple affair of honeyed oatmeal, buttered scones, and baked potatoes.
"We're saving the special things for Christmas dinner." Mrs. Weasley said. However, no one complained, as the meal was filling and wholesome.
After an hour's rest, everyone except Ron bundled up and dragged a Rocketboggan out up to the top of Stoatshead Hill.
The day was just right, in Harry's opinion. It was cold, but not frigid; it wasn't too warm either. Harry was dressed in his latest Weasley jumper, a pair of baggy khakis, and his own sneakers. The others wore bascially the same; Harry noticed that Hermione was also sporting her own jumper; a purple background with a silver "H" knitted on.
"Nice jumper." he told her.
"Thanks." she smiled at him.
FOOTNOTE---Never mind. I suck now.