"Harry! So
good to see you, dear!" Mrs. Weasley bustled along out of the house and
enfolded Harry in a motherly hug. Harry's face was rather red when she let go,
and he tried to turn away, but Fred and George were grinning as they ran out of
the house towards him, followed by Ron and Ginny. "Harry, so good to see you
again, it's been so long!" George-or maybe Fred, he wasn't sure-shook his hand
vigorously. "Yes, almost forgot what you look like, it's been a whole 24
hours," commented the other Weasley twin as he took Harry's other hand and
began shaking it. Ron ran up grinning too. Harry loved it here. He felt so,
well, liked and welcome. It was nothing like Privet Drive and the Dursleys.
He'd come
the day before when Ron, Fred, and George had come to the house to get him. It
was one of the last few days of summer, and he'd had quite enough of his aunt
and uncle, and grossly fat and stupid cousin Dudley. They hadn't tried anything
sneaky this year; Ron and his brothers had simply come up to the door, stood in
the doorway holding their wands menacingly, and said they were taking Harry if
they had to blow up the house in the process. Hearing this, Uncle Vernon had
been all too happy to let him go. It had been surprisingly easy, and the drive
back with the Weasleys had been quite enjoyable. He and Ron had stopped off at
Diagon Alley, and then met the others back at the house.
"Come on,
come on, give the poor boy some room to breathe," said Mr. Weasley, rushing out
of the house and contradicting himself by running right up to Harry and beaming
at him. "Come, come, I want to show you something!" He panted. Mrs. Weasley
frowned. "Arthur, don't you think he should eat first? It's been a long ride."
"Molly, really. It'll only take a moment, and-!" "He's eating NOW Arthur," she
said in a loud voice, and Mr. Weasley cringed. "Alright, Molly dear, Alright.
Go on, Harry," he said. Harry was too respectful and, frankly, frightened of
Mrs. Weasley to mention that he wasn't hungry.
After
eating a meal of several baloney sandwiches with the boys and Ginny, Mr.
Weasley led him into a room in the back of the house, which was rather
darkened. Ron rolled his eyes. "Dad's gonna show you his new muggle thing," he
whispered. "Hope you can understand it. Otherwise he'll probably be tinkering
with it for the next 48 hours straight." Mr. Weasley didn't hear him, because
he was too intent on a black object sitting on a table in the corner,
illuminated by a small table lamp. "Why that's a-!" Harry began, but Mr.
Weasley interrupted him. "Yes, it's really wonderful isn't it? Don't know how
these muggles think up these things…ah…yes, that's why I wanted to show you,
isn't it?"
It was a
rather large and fancy radio, with two cassette decks and a compact disk player
built in. It was the kind of thing Dudley might break on his birthday, and
Harry had seen many very similar to it. He looked up at Mr. Weasley, confused.
"How did you get it?" The man looked nervous. "Well, I…" "Mmf Morghm Mmmmfh
Mrggfm," said Fred, walking in at that moment with his mouth full of baloney
sandwich. Harry and Mr. Weasley stared blankly at him. He quickly swallowed and
said, much more clearly, "Dade stole it from the Ministry of Magic." Mr.
Weasley's face went red. "Ah, no, no I didn't," he said quickly. "I found it in
a wizard household and…ah, borrowed it to examine for myself." Fred winked at
Harry. They both knew Mr. Weasley's obsession with muggle items. "Anyway," he
continued, looking at Harry, "I figured you might be able to, ah, show me how
it works?" So Harry did. And later, wished fervently that he hadn't. For the
rest of the day, the worst music, it seemed that could be found was played
blasting all over the house. Mrs. Weasley was very frazzled by the whole thing.
But that
didn't stop Harry from enjoying himself immensely while staying with the
Weasleys. He and Ron took turns flying around on his broomstick and throwing
Arthur Weasley's enchanted tennis ball up in to the air, pretending it was the
snitch, or the quaffle, or a bludger, depending on the circumstance. Fred and
George got their own brooms and joined halfway, and before they knew it, it had
become a real airborne almost-quidditch game. By the time it was over, everyone
was exhausted and hot and sweaty, and quite ready to go inside, eat, and go to
bed.
But as they
entered, they saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley bent concernedly over the muggle radio,
looking very worried. "Mum, what's wrong?" Asked Ron, confused. Mrs. Weasley
turned. "Oh, Ron, dear, come over and listen to this!" They all crowded and
squished around the radio. It was saying:
"-And so,
because of all the construction and predicted bad weather, Kings Cross station
will be closed all next week. Hope nobody had any very important things to
attend to...hehe…" Harry had stopped listening. His face had gone white, as
were everyone's around him. "The…H-Hogwarts express…" he stammered bleakly.
"How…?" "Well I'm sure Dumbledore will know," said Ron knowledgeably. "He knows
everything. And he'll come up with some way…maybe he'll even postpone school
opening, that'd be fun." But Ron didn't look very convinced, and Hogwarts was a
long way away in distance…but a very short period of time away…
* * * * * * * * * * * *
For the
next few days, Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry kept expecting an owl to
come bearing tidings of what would need to be done about Hogwarts. But none
came. After a while, Harry thought about sending his own owl, Hedwig, to
Dumbledore, but realized he didn't know if Dumbledore would be at the school
yet. Just when they were starting to get really worried, a wet bedraggled owl
came in through the rainstorm outside, and flopped gracelessly onto the bed.
Harry dried it off and offered it some food while Ron accepted the letter it
was carrying excitedly. It read:
IDear Mr. H. Potter and Mr. R. Weasley,
As you may or may not know, Kings Cross station has been
temporarily closed. As I'm afraid, for circumstances you will hear of later,
that I would much prefer to have you at school at this time, I cannot postpone
the opening. Therefore, I am intrusting you with a very difficult spell. I think you 5th years should be
able to pull it off, though separate transportation of the magical sort will
have to be set up for the younger children. You'll find the instructions when
you finish reading this letter.
Good luck, and don't try anything foolish, boys. No flying muggle vehicles.
I've got my eye on you, Potter and Weasley. Sincerely, Professor Minerva
McGonagall/I
As Ron and
Harry finished the letter, the flowery gold writing in which Professor
McGonagall had written disappeared, revealing some simple black text, appearing
to be type written, although Harry knew better, took it's place. It explained
how exactly to do the spell, and was accompanied by a demonstrative photograph of
Dumbledore himself doing it. Harry and Ron looked at each other, and then sat
down together on the bed to look it over. They stayed there for two whole
hours, practicing without their wands, waving their hands in the air, and
yelling, "Teleportus Incantatum!" loudly.
After a
long while of practice, they ran downstairs to tell the others, only to find
that Fred, George, and Ginny had beaten them to it. "Look's like everyone's
going to teleport!" said Ginny excitedly, when Ron and Harry arrived. "I can't believe
it, this is going to be so much FUN!" George and Fred weren't all that
impressed, they'd done it before, though they preferred riding the Hogwarts
express with the others, because it was simply more fun, and they usually got
to buy a few chocolate frogs along the way. Ron, however, just looked nervous.
"You know,"
he said to Harry, back up in the room they shared, "A lot of weird stuff
happens when you teleport somewhere. I've heard of people whose arms and legs
have gotten left behind, and people who've come out in horrible places to get
stuck in, like in the bottom compartment of a clothes dresser! Or some people
never come back or get found at all!" "Why are you telling me this?" Asked
Harry, a bit irritably. "Well, I…just thought you should know," replied Ron. "I
mean, before we decide to take this risk." Harry stared at Ron. "You mean…you
think you might not go???" Ron looked glum. "Not really," he admitted, "But I
like to think I have a choice in it."
They went
to bed that night feeling slightly worried, but very excited. Tomorrow, they'd
be teleporting to school to start the new term…and wouldn't that be a great
thing to show the teachers. They'd manage it, Harry knew they would. How
couldn't they? They'd been studying magic somewhat like this for 4 years
already. It couldn't be that hard, really. Still, something nagged at the back
of Harry's mind, that wouldn't let him go. He put it down to having something
to do with Ron's horror stories, and slept, rather nervously, on it.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The house
was in a nervous chaotic furor the next morning, with everyone running around
doing last minute packing, and a bit of unpacking, to make their suitcases as
light as possible, without losing the essentials. When everyone was finally
ready, they all assembled in the small backyard. Mrs. Weasley kissed Fred and
George, yelled at them to stay out of trouble, and watched them wave their
wands in a circle around them, and shout, "TELEPORTUS INCANTATUM: HOGWARTS!" A
moment later, they simply weren't there anymore. Harry caught himself looking
quickly around for any missing Weasley limbs, but they seemed to have gotten,
quite wholly successfully, out.
Next, It
was Ginny's turn. She was fuming a bit, because Mr. Weasley had insisted on
coming with her, to make sure she'd be all right, because she was too young.
After they had disappeared, it was Ron's turn, and after Ron, Mrs. Weasley
beckoned Harry forward. "Come on, dear, let's hurry now." She watched as he
stood where the others had, and waved his wand, closing his eyes and picturing
Hogwarts in his mind. "T-TELEPORTUS INCANTATUM: HOGWARTS," he shouted, and
suddenly felt himself disappear.
It was a
very odd sensation, him actually feeling himself disappear. One moment he had
the senses of touch, hearing, smell, taste, and sight, and then, the next
moment, he simply didn't anymore. Disturbed, he tried to cry out, but couldn't
hear himself, or even move his lips, because he had none. This lasted for a
long time, but just when Harry was starting to get seriously worried that he'd
done something horribly wrong, and was going to be non-existent forever, every
sense and feeling came back in a sudden jerk, and he collapsed to the ground in
surprise.
Standing up
and looking around, he expected to see the Hogwarts hallways and classrooms all
around him. Instead, to his further surprise, all he saw was a small and
strangely familiar muggle house, sitting on a hill. It was very dark out except
for a few stars, but he could still make out the outlines of people standing
near the window and talking in hushed, excited tones. He didn't think he'd ever
seen this place before, yet it stood vividly in his mind. "Déjà vu?" he
wondered to himself, getting closer as curiosity built up inside of him. Just
as he approached the window, he heard someone coming, and ducked down.
What he saw
from his vantage point was a cloaked and indistinguishable figure approaching
the door. He peered at the figure, trying hard to get a closer look, and
accidentally snapped a twig with his foot. Jerking back just in time, he saw
the figure turn his head…and stare out of the most horrible face Harry had ever
seen…simply because he knew it so well. Shocked, Harry stood stock-still,
mortally afraid now that he would attract the attention of Lord Voldemort. But
even as he thought his, he realized that Voldemort was going into this house,
doubtless for some absolutely horrible crime. Harry couldn't just sit by and
watch, he had to do something. He tapped on the window, but no one responded.
Then, seeing the dark lord enter the house, he stood carefully, and followed
him in.
As he
walked down the hall, following Voldemort's footsteps, he continued to have the
sensation that he knew this place very well. It increased, as he got closer to
the room. Stepping inside the doorway, he suddenly knew why, and almost fainted
with yet another shock. His mother and
father stood, almost facing him, staring at Voldemort. It was undoubtedly them,
he'd seen them in the Mirror of Erised his first year, seen them in the photo
album Hagrid had given him. He knew their faces as well as he knew Ron's,
Hermione's, or his own. It was impossible that they were here…and then Harry
knew. Somehow, some unbelievable way, he'd gotten back to the day where Voldemort
had killed his parents.
Turning
quickly at another sound, Harry saw another man, one he didn't recognize, come
in behind Voldemort. He blinked. Who was this? Some accomplice of Voldemort's
that Harry had never seen? He was a short stocky man, and his face was
unfamiliar, framed by dark brown curly hair. Then Harry had to turn back again,
had to watch in horror as Voldemort approached his parents, waving his wand and
smiling as James Potter toppled to the ground. Lily ran from the room into
another, the dark lord and the other man on her heels. Harry followed
reluctantly, not wanting to see it, somehow unable to control his own actions.
His mother held a baby with Harry's own green eyes and dark hair, who Harry
knew, of course, to be himself. He watched as his mother was struck down
through the tears coursing down his cheek, screaming out loud, and then a
blinding green light surrounding everything, and a burning pain in his scar
made him scream. Through a dim haze, he saw the other man laughing heartily as
Voldemort bore down on baby Harry. Then, everything went black. "NOOO!" He
heard himself screaming as he faded. "NOOO!"
