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“Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you’ll be wanting some more, then?” And if you’ll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all ’is own toads back orf me for a lot more’n what ’e paid in the first place —’

      ‘I don’t think we need to hear any more of your business dealings, thank you very much, Mundungus,’ said Mrs Weasley sharply, as Ron slumped forwards on to the table, howling with laughter.

      ‘Beg pardon, Molly,’ said Mundungus at once, wiping his eyes and winking at Harry. ‘But, you know, Will nicked ’em orf Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn’t really doing nothing wrong.’

      ‘I don’t know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seem to have missed a few crucial lessons,’ said Mrs Weasley coldly.

      Fred and George buried their faces in their goblets of Butterbeer; George was hiccoughing. For some reason, Mrs Weasley threw a very nasty look at Sirius before getting to her feet and going to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for pudding. Harry looked round at his godfather.

      ‘Molly doesn’t approve of Mundungus,’ said Sirius in an undertone.

      ‘How come he’s in the Order?’ Harry said, very quietly.

      ‘He’s useful,’ Sirius muttered. ‘Knows all the crooks – well, he would, seeing as he’s one himself. But he’s also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out of a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don’t. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn’t forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you.’

      Three helpings of rhubarb crumble and custard later and the waistband on Harry’s jeans was feeling uncomfortably tight (which was saying something as the jeans had once been Dudley’s). As he laid down his spoon there was a lull in the general conversation: Mr Weasley was leaning back in his chair, looking replete and relaxed; Tonks was yawning widely, her nose now back to normal; and Ginny, who had lured Crookshanks out from under the dresser, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, rolling Butterbeer corks for him to chase.

      ‘Nearly time for bed, I think,’ said Mrs Weasley with a yawn.

      ‘Not just yet, Molly,’ said Sirius, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. ‘You know, I’m surprised at you. I thought the first thing you’d do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort.’

      The atmosphere in the room changed with the rapidity Harry associated with the arrival of Dementors. Where seconds before it had been sleepily relaxed, it was now alert, even tense. A frisson had gone around the table at the mention of Voldemort’s name. Lupin, who had been about to take a sip of wine, lowered his goblet slowly, looking wary.

      ‘I did!’ said Harry indignantly. ‘I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we’re not allowed in the Order, so —’

      ‘And they’re quite right,’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘You’re too young.’

      She was sitting bolt upright in her chair, her fists clenched on its arms, every trace of drowsiness gone.

      ‘Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?’ asked Sirius. ‘Harry’s been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He’s got the right to know what’s been happen—’

      ‘Hang on!’ interrupted George loudly.

      ‘How come Harry gets his questions answered?’ said Fred angrily.

      ‘We’ve been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven’t told us a single stinking thing!’ said George.

      ‘“You’re too young, you’re not in the Order,”’ said Fred, in a high-pitched voice that sounded uncannily like his mother’s. ‘Harry’s not even of age!’

      ‘It’s not my fault you haven’t been told what the Order’s doing,’ said Sirius calmly, ‘that’s your parents’ decision. Harry, on the other hand —’

      ‘It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!’ said Mrs Weasley sharply. The expression on her normally kind face looked dangerous. ‘You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?’

      ‘Which bit?’ Sirius asked politely, but with the air of a man readying himself for a fight.

      ‘The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,’ said Mrs Weasley, placing a heavy emphasis on the last three words.

      Ron, Hermione, Fred and George’s heads swivelled from Sirius to Mrs Weasley as though they were following a tennis rally. Ginny was kneeling amid a pile of abandoned Butterbeer corks, watching the conversation with her mouth slightly open. Lupin’s eyes were fixed on Sirius.

      ‘I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly,’ said Sirius. ‘But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back’ (again, there was a collective shudder around the table at the name) ‘he has more right than most to —’

      ‘He’s not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘He’s only fifteen and —’

      ‘And he’s dealt with as much as most in the Order,’ said Sirius, ‘and more than some.’

      ‘No one’s denying what he’s done!’ said Mrs Weasley, her voice rising, her fists trembling on the arms of her chair. ‘But he’s still —’

      ‘He’s not a child!’ said Sirius impatiently.

      ‘He’s not an adult either!’ said Mrs Weasley, the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘He’s not James, Sirius!’

      ‘I’m perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly,’ said Sirius coldly.

      ‘I’m not sure you are!’ said Mrs Weasley. ‘Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it’s as though you think you’ve got your best friend back!’

      ‘What’s wrong with that?’ said Harry.

      ‘What’s wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him!’ said Mrs Weasley, her eyes still boring into Sirius. ‘You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!’

      ‘Meaning I’m an irresponsible godfather?’ demanded Sirius, his voice rising.

      ‘Meaning you have been known to act rashly, Sirius, which is why Dumbledore keeps reminding you to stay at home and —’

      ‘We’ll leave my instructions from Dumbledore out of this, if you please!’ said Sirius loudly.

      ‘Arthur!’ said Mrs Weasley, rounding on her husband. ‘Arthur, back me up!’

      Mr Weasley did not speak at once. He took off his glasses and cleaned them slowly on his robes, not looking at his wife. Only when he had replaced them carefully on his nose did he reply.

      ‘Dumbledore knows the position has changed, Molly. He accepts that Harry will have to be filled in, to a certain extent, now that he is staying at Headquarters.’

      ‘Yes, but there’s a difference between that and inviting him to ask whatever he likes!’

      ‘Personally,’ said Lupin quietly, looking away from Sirius at last, as Mrs Weasley turned quickly to him, hopeful that finally she was about to get an ally, ‘I think it better that Harry gets the facts – not all the facts, Molly, but the general picture – from us, rather than a garbled version from … others.’

      His expression was mild, but Harry felt sure Lupin, at least, knew that some Extendable Ears had survived Mrs Weasley’s purge.

      ‘Well,’ said Mrs Weasley, breathing deeply and looking around the table for support that did not come, ‘well … I can see I’m going to be overruled. I’ll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry’s best interests at heart —’

      ‘He’s not your son,’ said Sirius quietly.

      ‘He’s

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