I'm trying something a little different here. I've never really worked with these characters before, so I hope I did them justice. I usually only focus on Hermione and Draco, but I wanted to try something new. This is a little stand alone story I wrote up today, but I'm thinking of adding more to it. What do you think? Should I continue or leave it how it is?
Molly Weasley scowled over her cutting board. As she listened to afternoon tea floating around her, she couldn't help but scoff. They were ridiculous.
"We could try sending a scout to Hogwarts again." Percy Weasley suggested.
Blaise Zabini laughed darkly from the back corner of the kitchen. "Okay, Master Minister," he mocked, "but you get to dig the grave this time."
"Watch it, Zabini." Percy snapped.
"What if we searched through the vaults again?" Ron Weasley asked, "I'm sure we could've missed something the first time. Bill, d'you think—"
"It's no good," the curse breaker replied, "the goblins think we're batty for still trying to uproot You-Know-Who with Harry and Her—" He stopped himself and took a deep breath. A blanket of silence settled over the room. Bill breathed quietly for a moment. "No, they're not going to take sides. And even if they do, it'll be with them."
"Oh, sucks to them," Dennis Creevey cried. "I say we charge Malfoy Manor right now and blow up the whole lot of 'em!"
Molly Weasley couldn't take another second of the endless rubbish. She slammed down her knife flat on the table. "That's enough!" She huffed, "I'll have no more foolish outbursts. From any of you! This is not an official Order meeting, so we'll not be discussing anything other than when the pasties are done and who is going to put up the fairy lights!" She looked at the group of boys in her kitchen and softened. "We are having a celebration tonight. Don't ruin Ginny's birthday by bringing up business. She'll be here in an hour or two. So pipe down and ask me what to do. Tonight we are going to be happy."
After asking the Percy to replace Dean Thomas at the watch and telling the rest of them to "bother themselves with cleaning the house," she was left alone in the kitchen with Ron and Blaise Zabini, the two who had not listened to her admonishment. She glanced at Blaise Zabini, the man who lost his family and his faith in their cause in one evening. He had come running to the Order months ago, but his walls were still just as high. Then she gazed at her poor youngest boy, into his brilliant blue eyes, and sighed. "Tonight we are going to be happy." She whispered. Ron returned the look with turned down lips.
Molly picked up her cutting board, slid the rest of the onions into the pot, wiped her hands on her apron, and disappeared into the pantry.
"Mummy's boy," Zabini said to the almost-empty room.
"Prat," Ron grumbled tiredly, as if on autopilot, and slumped out of the room.
Zabini smiled a little too wide, his mouth set in a harsh grimace instead of a grin.
Dennis Creevey, like the youngest Weasley boy, did not listen to Molly. A growing young man of 14, Dennis was hungry—again. The world may be ending, his family may have run to America while he stayed behind, but his appetite would go on. He wandered through the dark halls of 12 Grimmauld Place, searching for the wine cellar. 12 Grimmauld Place, like Hogwarts, contained many hidden secrets, one of them being the loose brick in the wine cellar that sheltered a small pile of chocolate frogs. Dennis Creevey knew that dinner was only a few minutes away, but he needed something to hold him over from afternoon tea the hour before.
As he ambled past dusty corners and over creaking floorboards, he couldn't help but think back to the conversation in the kitchen. He stood by what he said, even after Molly's chastisement, he still thought they should just go bombarda maxima Malfoy Manor into smithereens. But nooo, they had to play it slow. They had to be cautious. They had to be booooring.
His idea was much better. Dennis could see the flashing camera's now, his face plastered in the Daily Prophet below the headline "HERO DENNIS CREEVEY ACHIEVES WORLD PEACE, SAVES MILLIONS." Yes, Dennis nodded, that sounded like a very good title. "DENNIS CREEVEY, YOUNGEST MINISTER FOR MAGIC—EVER." Oh, but that sounded even better. Only good things could come from torching Malfoy Manor and then burning the ashes.
Dennis almost walked right past the wine cellar, he was so caught up in his thoughts. "Oops," Dennis laughed and turned down the little dead end to his right. He stopped at the trapdoor and checked his Manchester United watch. It read half six. He had time before dinner.
He opened the trapdoor with practised ease and slid down the ladder. The wine cellar smelt dusky and sweet like it usually did. But as he breathed in, he noticed a hint of sourness in the air that caught him off guard. "Eh," Dennis muttered, "prob'ly just mice." As long as they didn't get into his chocolate frogs, they could live where they wanted.
Dennis removed the brick and pulled out the nearest frog. He ripped open the package and quickly grabbed the little chocolate croaker before it jumped into a dusty corner, never to be seen again. After he licked his fingers clean, he slid the chocolate frog card out of the box. "Ugh. Dumbledore again." He moped. He had been hoping for Agrippa. Shrugging, he stuck the card in his jumper pocket and turned back to the ladder. He didn't want to completely spoil his dinner, Mrs Weasley had made tripe.
As he cleared the top rung, the unpleasant sour smell washed over him again. It smelt like bubotuber pus and spoilt milk. He covered his nose and made a face. "Wonky house," Dennis said and shivered. Something felt off. Something told him to go back into the cellar. He didn't like the feeling. It was a dark feeling.
Nonetheless, he risked one glance down into the wine cellar and instantly wished he hadn't. He expected to see a mouse, not a pair of misty white eyes stare back at him. It didn't take Dennis long to realise that he was in an exceeding amount of trouble, and he promptly slammed the trapdoor shut and bolted down the hallway. He could hear the thing, whatever it was, scramble up the ladder after him. He didn't have much time.
As he ran through the familiar hallways, he pulled out his wand and sent a few hexes behind him without looking. He could hear the thing trudging after him, emitting a low creaking growl that echoed off the walls. The growl got closer, and he ran faster, but the thing seemed to be picking up speed as Dennis sprinted up the stairs to the main level.
Dennis knew one thing for sure, Mrs Weasley was not going to be happy when he brought the thing to dinner.
Ron Weasley was amused when Dennis Creevey burst into the kitchen screaming like a mandrake, but the humour was soon lost on him when he saw what was following the little Muggle-born.
It was some sort of dark monster, Ron could see that. It looked like a corpse, sickly and thin, with grey skin and stringy hair. It looked so emaciated that Ron could count all of the ribs in its chest. Most striking were its eyes, they seemed to glow milky white. The corpse, whatever it was, tumbled after Dennis into the kitchen.
Dennis yelped again and hopped onto the counter, his wails intensifying every time the corpse leapt and snatched at the boy.
"Bloody h—"
"DO SOMETHING, RON! THE THING IS GOING TO EAT ME!"
"What can I do?! I don't even know what it is!"
At the sound of another voice, the corpse turned and began stalking toward Ron. The Weasley, seeing his present danger, immediately began screaming with Dennis.
Blaise Zabini entered the scene. "What in Merlin's name is going—Sweet Salazar! What IS that?"
"Zabini!" Ron cried out desperately, "get Bill!"
Without another word, for once, the Slytherin dashed out the door.
Ron jumped on top of the table across from the counter and he and Dennis shared a panicked look over the putrid head of the walking corpse. Their faces shared the same sentiment. They were speedily going to hell on a hippogriff.
The corpse lunged and growled while the ginger tried his best to avoid it. If he hadn't been scared for his life, Ron would have been quite proud of how he was jumping over the corpse's searching hands and shooting hexes like a real professional. Dennis was still screaming, even though the thing was nowhere near him.
This was the circumstance in which the residents of 12 Grimmauld Place found themselves upon entering the kitchen. Bill didn't know why he was surprised, one could never predict what was going to happen at the Black House. Percy, George, Blaise, Dean and Ginny stayed back in the hallway, but the curse-breaker strode into the room silently.
"Rictusempra!" Ron Weasley, absorbed, shouted over Dennis. "Stupefy!"
The corpse fell back on its back but got up not a second later. Bill took one look at its eyes and knew exactly what it was. There was an Inferius in the kitchen. Bill was confused that there was only one, but he soon snapped into action when he saw the Inferius swing a leg onto the table in an attempt to get to Ron.
Bill whipped his wand out of his pocket and immediately the room increased in temperature. He decided not to set the entire house on fire, so he nixed the firestorm and opted for small lasso of flame that settled over the Inferius like a cage.
The Inferius gave an unearthly shriek and shrunk down on his hands and knees on the floor. It tried to escape the fire, but it was no use. The flames licked greedily up its pale body as it withered and writhed. Ron, with horror, spectated with his eyes wide open. Dennis turned around. Bill looked interestedly on as the Inferius charred and smoked, diminishing with surprising speed. Soon the Inferius was a corpse once more, a small blackened ball of thin limbs and grotesque bones. The fire died down slowly until just a few branches of fire shot out like candles.
There was silence and stillness in the kitchen for a long time. Each person stared at the monster steadfastly, as taking their eyes away would make it come to life again. Finally, the clock in the hallway chimed seven, and they came out of their dazes
The people from the hall inched into the room. Blaise looked around the kitchen as if another Inferius was going to come out of the broom closet. Percy, with a self-satisfied smile, pulled out his wand and pushed the billowing black smoke into the hallway with small jets of air from his wand. With the unsettlingly black smoke gone, George and Ginny moved forward to inspect the ashen body. George conjured a lit candle and placed it in the empty eye socket of the Inferius.
"Happy birthday," George congratulated Ginny cheerily. She raised an eyebrow. "Make a wish," he said as the heat slowly melted the candle and it slumped to the side.
"George," Percy said, "that's disgusting."
"That's disgusting?" Ron asked incredulously, "have you seen what the candle is sticking into?"
"What is it?" Dennis wondered, turning around slowly.
"An unexpected dinner guest."
"George, please," Bill replied. "Dennis, that was an Inferius." Ron's eyes lit up with recognition, but the rest of the bunch looked confused. Bill continued "An Inferius is basically a dead person. Dark wizards reanimate bodies and use them to do their bidding. They usually come in droves, but…."
"Where did you find it?" George asked.
"The wine cellar," Dennis replied, his cheeks heating up.
Percy scowled. "What were you doing in the wine—"
"Would it have hurt me?" Ron interrupted.
Bill paused in thought. "Probably not. They're most dangerous around natural hazards. Lakes, cliffs, lava—"
"Our Mum," George said.
Bill grinned momentarily. "At most, they can kill you, but you probably just would have gotten an uncomfortably tight hug."
"As it tried to rip your stomach out." Blaise Zabini threw in offhandedly.
Ginny stood up. "Did you say Dark Wizard?"
Dennis stared at Bill with wide eyes. Ron glanced suspiciously at Blaise. George stopped conjuring cake decorations onto the Inferius and looked up curiously.
"I did." Bill nodded gravely. "I don't know how one got into the wine cellar, but I'd better go check if there are more. Did you see more than one, Dennis?"
The boy shook his head.
"Well, I'll go check anyway."
The curse breaker left the room, leaving the rest of them to sit in awkward silence for a minute or two. Nobody knew what to say. Dennis was just opening his mouth when Bill rushed back into the kitchen frantically.
"The Inferi can wait, we've got a problem."
"What?"
"Mum's coming."
The Weasley boys jumped into action. George vanished the icing and candles from the Inferius and Bill swept it out of the window with a quick Locomotor. Percy straightened the chairs at the table and Ron scourgified the floor quickly.
They all waited in timid silence as the front door opened and shut and the portrait of Walburga Black let out a violent slew of curses.
Molly made eye contact with Ron first as she made her way down the hallway. Her eyebrows knit together and she sniffed the air trepidatiously. As she entered the kitchen, the oddness of what she was seeing hit her, and she placed her hands on her hips firmly. Her boys were in for it now. The Weasley clan silently braced themselves for the tirade and Blaise Zabini chuckled from the corner.
"Ronald Weasley! What are you doing on the table?"
"Sorry, Mum," Ron mumbled.
"And why does it smell like smoke in the hall?"
"Sorry, Mum." Percy apologised.
"And heavens! Why are there scorch marks on the table?"
"Sorry, Mum," Bill replied.
"Dennis! Why are you on the counter?"
Dennis, staring out the window, muttered a quiet "Sorry, Mum" and hopped down to the floor.
Molly gaped at the shell-shocked boys. She was at a loss. "Goodness. What happened in here?"
George animated himself and piped up. "We were just getting ready for Ginny's party."
Molly shot him a glare that should have melted his liver.
"Sorry, Mum." George placated, shrinking.
Maybe it was her speech from afternoon tea, but Molly saw something different in her children that night. She watched Bill laugh at George's jokes again, she listened as Ron told a story at dinner for the first time in months. She watched Percy attempt to make small talk with Blaise Zabini as the Slytherin skulked in the corner. She caught a gleam in Ginny's eye when she blew out her birthday candles, even if she accepted her presents with grim grace. Molly may have lost her Charlie, she may have lost her Fred. She may have even lost her Arthur, but she was happy that night. There was something different and beautiful about her children for a moment in time. Something had given them momentary life. She didn't know what it was, but she thanked Merlin for it.
And Molly really didn't know. Her boys never told her that a dark zombie from who-knows-where wanted to come for dinner. But they did smile a little longer, with eyes a little brighter, for the small victory of their afternoon that had made their day. Things were far from perfect, but the mismatched band at 12 Grimmauld Place enjoyed one evening of happiness. If not for Molly's speech, then for the crackling ashes of the Inferius Bill accidentally shot into the neighbour's rubbish bin.
There you go. A little bittersweet, and maybe a bit too humorous when looking at their situation, but it turned out like I wanted it to. I like the idea of moments of happiness during tough times.
I hope you liked it. If you did, please review! If you didn't, please review! I'm always up for constructive criticism.