Chapter Two:

Take Another Sip

The Great Hall still shimmered with freshly laid glazed hams, turkeys, and shiny new dinner wear. The silence was now chased away with the break out of a horrendous sound of the gossiping groups of houses. A thousand separate conversations were followed by a thousand more, all dwelling on the rain that could be heard on the roof overhead. Maybe it was because will all the sound it could not be heard, so others attempted to drown it out. That, or it had possibly comforted them to think and speak of the worst things that could happen. Those were the only real possibilities that anyone could think of.

The Gryffindor table seemed to be the loudest of all, but that was nothing new compared to all of the other houses. The table seemed to be split up in sections depending upon year, except the clump in the middle that sat Harry and the others. Harry, still steaming with complete and utter anger and confusion, maintained himself from drinking anything else the entire night. Hermione and Ron had said nothing else for a long while, nor did either have anything to say.

Hermione's face was pressed into the depths of a newspaper, eying each and every story. Her eyes had overcome the worst things, but she never said a word. Harry, however, was thinking on other things by that moment. What was spiked in his drink? What type of thing had Fred and George come up with now? More importantly, though, was it safe to trust them? Hermione was still quiet, only read intently as Ron continued to devour every bit of food that was sitting in front of him, resembling that of a vicious vacuum cleaner that had never been used before.


"Daddy…" Lily started softly.

Harry looked away from the window that he was currently staring at, and looked down at his daughter that had now escaped from her sleeve of sheets and nestled up against him. This was a new feeling to Harry, for he had never had a one on one conversation with his little one, let alone tell her a story that was completely coming from his mind and now from a book that was laying right in front of him. Nor did he even know where this story was suddenly coming from, but he knew one thing: it was actually fun, which was something that he had never expected.

"Yes?" He asked lightly.

"Is that why Uncle Ron is so big?" She asked, giggling under her angelic breath. Harry couldn't help but laugh.

"No, dear, he's fit because he's a Quidditch player." He said, still laughing. "Not from eating too much."

"But…" She said lightly. "Aunt 'Mione said that he eats too much and that's why he is big."

"Aunt Hermione likes to joke." He said lightly, still smiling. "He does eat a lot, but he's not big because of that. He exercises a lot and it causes him to get really big like that. It's a good big, though." He said, smiling.

"Okay… I was just wondering." She said, sitting up in back excitement. "Finish the story, Daddy!"

That was now a new conversation that Harry would have to have with Hermione. It was cute, but un-needed. He didn't want to scare her into assuming that if she ate at all then she would get really big, but maybe Harry was over thinking this, which was a definite possibility. He could just laugh now because of the ridiculously awkward questions, but perhaps it was just one of those questions that kids ask and there is no answer for their fragile minds. He would let young Lily continue to believe what she wanted to, right down to coming into the world because the "Stork" decided to pay her mother a visit. Harry wondered him self, though, why he had yet to be asked why the Stork had a baby that looked exactly like their mothers, or even human kids. Harry had a better idea to speak of then the "Stork." It was magic.


"Mate, might as well drink, considering the stuff is already in your system and all." Ron chimed in, continuously stuffing a new amount of food into his wide trap. Harry had rolled his eyes.

"Easy for you to say." He said, still picking away at his food. Who knows what was in that?

Hermione was still tucked behind the wall of newspaper, and Harry could see nothing but her thin finger tips escaping from the side and grasping the paper within place. Ron seemed to not pay any heed to her, but Harry was concentrating on her closely, looking for a reaction of some sort from her. She seemed so astounded when she opened the paper, but hadn't said a word since. Harry sat up straight, a sigh suddenly suppressed at his lips, and he resumed his slouching position. Ron had then noticed Hermione's constant reading, and suddenly shrugged when he and Harry exchanged glances.

"Anything good, 'Mione." Harry suddenly asked, attempting to get his mind off the beverage.

"Nothing much. A few houses ruined here and there, but rebuilt in new places and such…" She flipped a page then. Hermione quirked her head to the side. "Interesting."

Harry had stopped listening at that point. The visions of the houses were now in his mind, clouding everything from entering his point of awareness. Everything had officially flooded out of his mind, just like life had flooded from those few houses that were locked in the paper. The front page had none of that, but a picture of the floods at hand, continuously rising and falling as the image continued to start over and over in a constant loop of repetition. Harry, by then, had zoned back into reality at the sound of a familiar voice that echoed in his head.

"Harry… Harry?… HARRY!" Hermione had said, waving her hand in front of his face to attempt to get him to regain consciousness.

"Eh… sorry. What?" He asked, coming back into the same bothers that were on his mind only a few minutes ago.

"Do you know someone by the name of Benjamin Locke?" She asked, looking over the small description in the paper again, which must have mentioned the name.

"I don't think so, why do you ask?" He wondered, still thinking.

"He's disappeared. It says here that his wife is ill and, according to the best Healer in London, the only anecdote for her is missing the extremely rare ingredient of Dalily Root. He was on a hunt for it, gone for a week, and still has not returned, or even been seen." She said, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

"I would say the bloke is mental." Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Hermione asked, partially angered and confused by this comment. "Why is that?" She asked.

"Well, he could kill himself out there, and now he's missing. Why would he take on a dangerous mission like that alone when he doesn't even know where it go?" He asked, still stuffing his face.

"He loves her, Ronald." Hermione said acidly. "He loves her and she's dying. Not that you know what it means to love someone, nor care for anyone other than yourself…" She muttered, offended.

"She does have a point, Ron." Harry said, but under his breath.

"Of course, take her side." Ron snapped. "Shouldn't you be keeping track of time?"

Harry had glared, even though Ron was right. The face that something unknown would be happening to him in six hours had almost escaped his mind. He attempted to estimate how much time he had been sitting here since he had taken the potion, mix, or whatever it was that was released into his pumpkin juice. He had no idea, but he figured roughly a good twenty minutes or so, but he would assume a half hour just to be sure, or at least try to be sure. It was at that moment that Fred and George returned to the table.


"What happened to the man, Daddy?" She asked, a shocked expression etched upon her cherub cheeks.

"What do you think happened, Lil?" He asked, giving her a chance to design her own idea and not rely on the true ending, though Harry didn't even have one.

"Hmm…" She set her finger upon her chin and tapped it gently.

That movement was something Ginny used to do when she was working and attempting to find new ideas to write about in her verse of the Daily Prophet. Harry had assumed that she had picked it up from her mother, and he couldn't help but find a bittersweet amount of humor in this. She was such a spitting image of her mother, as was James of Harry. It was then where he was placed in a whirlwind of interesting memories. One of which was when James was born and Ginny exclaimed how much similar he and Harry were. It almost felt and seemed completely and surprisingly unreal.

"I think he's coming home." She said sternly. "I think he's still looking, but won't give up because the one he loves is sick. Right, Daddy?" She asked, hopingly.

"Maybe, Lilly," Harry replied softly. "Maybe."


Harry stared at his cup one last time. He turned his head to try and scream the reasons out of Fred and George, but when he turned they both were gone. He attempted to keep his mind intact, trying to stay calm, and think of rational explanations. This was probably the worst thing to do, though. Knowing Fred and George, rather, meant that nothing would ever be anything but irrational. Everything that they did and or invented never had a rational side. They were good at what they did, though. They had never gotten in serious trouble, after all.

"What could they have put into it?" He asked suddenly, still groaning about the entire subject.

Ron and Hermione held the blankest of faces upon their skins. It was like a ghost had placed themselves within them, turning them a ghostly white in fear of having no answer. Harry was a centimeter away from getting up and running all over the castle to find the two that had recently disappeared. There were a lot of fearful things stored in Harry's guessing. Harry clutched his fingers around his glass, his throat raw with dehydration, and he sighed. What's another sip? It was already in his system.

"How you feeling, mate?"

"Ya'look pale." A snickering couple said behind Harry.

"What the hell did you put in this drink?" Harry asked, slamming it down.

"You'll see, soon enough." Fred said, smiling widely.

"How am I supposed to lead the others if I have no idea what it happening to myself?" Harry asked suddenly. "This is a really stupid plan, you two." He said harshly.

Fred and George had just looked at each other, smirking. There were a few on the other side that knew exactly what to do and when to do it, but they needed someone down there that people actually listened to. Harry's mind, however, was on how the teachers were going to cope with this. What will happen to Fred and George when they found out what was happening, or what would happen? Harry had no other words to say to either of them. They were about as stubborn as Ron, which was non-curable. Harry just had to wait it out and find out for himself, which was one of the things he couldn't stand. Not only was Harry impatient, but he hated surprises more than anything.

"Fred, mate, what are you plotting?" Ron asked suddenly.

"Nothing on you, little brother, but it's none of your business. You will join them soon enough, just get them to the lake." Fred stated.

"Oh bloody hell, Fred, just tell us what you're hiding." Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"Honestly we would, mate," George suddenly chimed in. "But we can't." He said.

"Why not?" Hermione said suddenly. "It's your concoction! Why can't you tell us!?" Hermione said suddenly.

"See - we are the only ones who know. Not that we don't trust you lot, but you have a tendency for Dumbledore to know everything you do." Fred explained.

"So we won't-"

"Tell?" Fred asked Ronald. "You never have to tell him, he always knows! We're protecting our secret, just until we get everyone to the water."

"Doesn't matter anymore, anyway." Harry said. "I guess I'm in for a surprise."

"Whatcha mean, Harry?" George asked, watching him chug his glass of pumpkin juice while George sipped his own.

Harry had smirked now, realizing something that only now had made his smile crawl upon his lips. He stared down at the few drops of drink left to let drip down his throat, but something else had caught his attention. His emerald orbs stared down at the golden band around the rim of the stone shaded goblet. His eyes then blinked a few times before his vision had become clear enough for him to realize that it was not tricking him. She wanted to laugh, for revenge had come to itself in a simple accident. Harry had suddenly lifted his head with a straight face.

"My goblet had a chip in the rim. It's not here anymore…" Harry explained. George was now choking back the drink he was sipping.

"You're dead."


Author's Note

So- it's not a very good chapter, and about a day late then I hoped, but it's getting here, haha. Hope you guys had a Happy Halloween!

Airalynn

UPDATED: [SUNDAY] NOVEMBER 2, 2008