Author's Notes: And here you have it, the promised update. Things will begin to pick up a bit after this chapter, so I advise you all to hold onto your seats and please, as always, review. Thank you and enjoy!
Chapter III: The Treachery of Lord Voldemort
Several things happened very quickly, then.
Every eye in the room swung to Harry; Uncle Vernon leaped from his seat, looking positively incensed with rage. Dudley's voice carried down the hall, suddenly sharp, " What do you want with him?" And Harry slipped around the massive from of his raging uncle, pelting down the hall and skidding to a halt behind Dudley, his chest heaving, unable to believe that it was possible.
But there she was; Hermione Granger, one of his best friends, standing on the Dursleys' doorstep looking rather nervous but quite normal in a simple sweater and jeans, her long, bushy brown hair tied back into a high ponytail. She was gazing at Dudley with an expression somewhere between disgust and fascination, but in the moment that her large eyes swung up to meet Harry's, the world around them seemed to disappear, and Harry only then realized, as he had not for weeks prior, that he had been so afraid that the absence of communication had meant that Ron, Hermione, and Sirius were dead.
And now here Hermione was, looking whole and well but increasingly more anxious with each passing moment, twisting her fingers together and refusing now to look at Dudley.
" Hello, Harry." She whispered.
" Hermione." Harry inclined his head to her, casting a furtive glance toward Dudley, who had clearly determined that Hermione must be a witch and seemed unable to decide if her beauty overrode his fear of her. " Why don't we, er…go upstairs? My room's a lot more private."
It took Harry a moment to realize how suggestive the words had sounded. He resisted the urge to groan as Dudley cackled madly, and then he reached out, grabbed Hermione's hand, and pulled her inside, slamming the door swiftly behind her. Nearly shoulder-to-shoulder, his hand still in hers, they moved away from Dudley, back into the kitchen, where everyone turned simultaneously to face their approach. Piers glanced around hurriedly from where he had been examining the refrigerator, and his gaze was cursory as it swept over them.
" Who the ruddy hell is that?" Uncle Vernon blustered, pointing one fat finger at Hermione. He seemed to have deduced that she was a witch, as his son had, but he seemed unable to reconcile that knowledge to the fact that she looked as incredibly well-washed and normal as Uncle Vernon himself did.
" Hello, sir." Hermione murmured politely, withdrawing her hand from Harry's and stepping a pace away. " I'm Hermione Granger, I'm…a friend of Harry's from school. I wanted to drop by, just to, you know, see how Harry is doing…"
" I actually just got something in the mail today from, uh, my school, do you want to see it?" Harry was thinking fast, trying to get her alone so he could question her. Hermione glanced quickly toward him, then away, and nodded. " Okay, let's go."
Everyone seemed too stunned by Hermione's unexpected arrival to make an effort to stop them; as Harry led Hermione toward the stairs, he noticed that she glanced curiously toward Piers, her eyes narrowed.
Harry did not speak again until they were safe in his bedroom, sitting on the bed, their heads inclined together.
" So?" Harry whispered as Hermione hesitated. " What's the news?"
" Nothing, really." Hermione mumbled, looking embarrassed. " I was just…you didn't say goodbye when you left the train, Ron said you were really bad off, and when you didn't write I was afraid…I was afraid maybe you'd done something rash."
" Something rash?" Harry echoed dully. He felt the spark of hope dying inside of him; he had hoped that maybe Hermione would say she cared, that she had come to get him out of this awful place…
" Yes, well…" Hermione seemed flustered, not meeting his eyes as she toyed with a loose thread on his bedspread.
" Never mind." Harry sighed. " How are the others?"
" Oh, they're fine….well, as fine as they can be," Hermione replied quickly, looking relieved. " Mrs. Weasley is really upset about, well, you know, and Ron has been really quiet all summer. I've been staying with them, trying to help out, and I think they're really grateful, but it's so strange not seeing Ginny around…"
" So you're staying at the Burrow after all?" Harry inquired listlessly, staring past Hermione, out into the deepening twilight.
" Sometimes. We go to Grimmauld every few days. I think the Order is planning to move, but they haven't said where."
" Are they…are they looking for Ginny?" Harry forced himself to speak though the words stuck like sandpaper in his already dry throat. Hermione let out a faint sound of distress.
" They're trying, Harry, but with everything that's going on there hasn't bee much time. Everyone has been very overworked, you should see Tonks, she looks like she hasn't slept in weeks…" Hermione explained rapidly.
" Maybe they should get more help." Harry interjected quietly, still gazing past her without really seeing.
" Who?" Hermione demanded, sounding truly desperate now. " Who else can help, Harry? The Order is comprised only of very…"
" I could help!" Harry uttered the words just beneath a shout, causing Hermione to jump. " I've been cooped up in here for three solid weeks, I'd be really glad to help out, but everyone would rather leave me here by myself, just like last summer! Whatever happened to this being a joint effort? We're in Dumbledore's Army, Hermione, we don't carry that title around just for show!"
" What could we do, Harry?" Hermione whispered. " Do you know where Ginny is? Because Mr. Weasley has been working around the clock trying to find his daughter, and no leads have turned up yet. You're not the only one who cares about Ginny, and if you ask me it seems like you're the one who's being standoffish." Hermione's tone was just a touch haughty, and Harry clenched his teeth and turned away from her.
They wiled the moments away in silence, not looking at one another, and as Harry's brief bout of temper banked he began to feel a token of remorse.
" Sorry." He muttered at last. " I shouldn't've said…"
" Don't." Hermione whispered. " I'm sorry. Of course you're upset, Harry, we really have left you out, but you have to understand that everyone wants to keep you as far away from trouble as they can. And Voldemort's at the center of this, Harry, you know he is, and he wants to kill you. And we can't let that happen."
" Right." Harry sighed. And then, eager to change the subject, he asked, " Did you read about the legislation that the new Minister is trying to pass?"
As usual, his predictions of Hermione's reaction was spot-on. Her cheeks flushed an angry crimson, and Hermione slammed her open palm onto the cushiony bed-spread, making no sound.
" It's all just absurd!" She spat the last word venomously. " You should see Lupin, he's very upset, he says that wearing a mark on your skin for a cause is like cursing yourself, and wearing one for a cause you don't believe in is even worse…"
Harry could just hear Lupin saying that exact thing, and he felt an unexpected rush of affection for his ex-teacher.
" What about Hagrid?" He prompted when Hermione continued to fume in silence. " Have you heard from him?"
Hermione nodded.
" He's worried, more about Grawp than about himself, I think he thinks they're gong to start branding giants, too. Which, as long as they're taking the road of absolute idiocy, breaking wizarding laws left and right, they might as well…"
Harry smiled slightly, imaging Hagrid, Hogwarts gamekeeper and the first wizard Harry had ever met, wringing his great, dirty hands together and fretting over the fate of Grawp, his full-giant half-brother.
" And…what about Sirius?" Harry forced himself to ask at last.
Hermione's reaction was unexpected. She turned away from Harry slightly and picked up a discarded pair of jeans draped over the foot of his bed. She began to fold these automatically, keeping her eyes down as she replied.
" We don't talk to Sirius anymore."
" What? Why?" Harry demanded, shocked. His mind quickly retrieved the memory of the last words he had spoken to Sirius. He knew that he had cut his godfather deeply in his anger, but he hadn't meant to alienate him from the others…
" Maybe…I shouldn't have said it like that." Hermione whispered. Then, clearing her throat and raising her voice slightly, she went on," Sirius doesn't talk to us anymore. I haven't said a single word to him since the end of term. I don't think anyone has. He spends almost every waking moment in his bedroom. He won't even talk to Professor Lupin. No one knows what's wrong, because he won't say, but…"
" I think it's my fault." Harry muttered, feeling a flush of shame coloring his skin. " I said some pretty stupid things to him on the train, because I was angry at myself…"
" I think he's too much like you." Hermione interrupted abruptly, her tone suddenly fierce.
" Huh?"
" I think that he's blaming himself for what happened to Ginny."
Harry shook his head.
" That's…that's completely off." Harry hissed, feeling the anger rising in him again. " He wasn't even there!"
" Exactly." Hermione murmured. " And by all accounts he wouldn't have been, if you and Ginny hadn't changed the past. But you did. Sirius thinks Ginny sacrificed herself to bring him back. And just like you, he has no clue how to set things right."
Harry's eyes closed involuntarily, and he pressed one fist to his still-aching forehead, feeling the scar pulsing slightly beneath his skin.
" This is a disaster." He whispered.
A long pause stretched out in the wake of his words.
" Well…" Hermione glanced around, after a moment, then rose quickly to her feet and tilted her head, seeming to be listening for something. Then, with a satisfied nod, she turned towards the door.
Harry lifted his head swiftly, then leaped lightly off of the bed to follow her, and he seized Hermione's wrist before she could exit the bedroom.
" So is that it, then? You're just going to leave?" He demanded. " Just drop in, say something, make it all better, and go back to the Weasleys'?" Anger was bubbling up inside of him, but when Hermione glanced over her shoulder at him, her eyes were calm, unperturbed.
" You're coming with me, Harry." She stated firmly. " Mrs. Weasley won't like it, but it's rather obvious that leaving you here is only making things worse. So we'll go back tonight, and they can just live with you."
" Oh. Er…" Harry blinked. " I…thanks, Hermione."
" What are friends for?" Hermione's words were light, teasing, but her tone was somehow sad. The pair gazed at one another for a long moment, and then, quickly, Hermione dropped her gaze and nodded to the trunk at the foot of his bed. " Are you packed?"
And as she asked, a wonderful sense of release poured through Harry. He wanted to laugh aloud, but he simply smiled and replied, " Almost."
Side-by-side he and Hermione began to pack the trunk full of essentials, not bothering with orderliness; Harry threw his ink bottles and quills in with the soiled socks and ancient jeans and sweatshirts, and, though Hermione was careful to fold his clean clothes before packing them, she did not dissuade Harry from his more hectic mannerisms, and within an hour they had stowed everything in the trunk that would fit.
" Brilliant." Hermione murmured as—with some effort—she snapped the top of the trunk closed. " Is that everything, Harry?"
" Er…yeah." Harry replied distractedly as he gazed down at his trunk, the owl cage, and the Firebolt. " Just one thing though, Hermione…"
" What?"
" I forgot to tell my Aunt and Uncle that I'm leaving.
Hermione's hand flew to her mouth.
" Oh, my goodness, I forgot, too!" She moaned. " Oh, I hope they don't get very angry with you for just walking out…"
" I wouldn't care if they did." Harry assured her fervently. " It wouldn't stop me, anyway." Hermione gave him a feeble smile, then bent and scooped up Hedwig's cage. Balancing it expertly in her arms, she spoke around it.
" Ready?"
" As ready as I'll ever be." Harry sighed, and he picked up his trunk and Firebolt. " Let's go."
Harry didn't glance back even once as they turned off the light and left the room. He slammed the door loudly, not caring that the pictures on the walls all around rattled dangerously close to falling, and he descended the stairs at Hermione's side, head lifted purposefully.
And then, halfway down to the lower level of the house, a thought occurred to Harry for the first time. He halted, Hermione bumping into his arm, and he turned to face her curiously.
" Hermione." He began slowly. " How exactly are we supposed to get home? To the Burrow, I mean."
" Oh!" Hermione blushed a deeper shade of red than the innocent question really called for, and she fumbled slightly with Hedwig's cage, averting her eyes. " Well, I didn't really know what else to do, Harry…I needed someone to help me find you and bring you back, at least, I thought you might be coming back with us, so I found two someones to help us Apparate and Disapparate, you know, they were very eager for the chance…"
Horror flooded in an icy tide down Harry's neck. He dropped his trunk with a clatter onto the stairs, leaned his Firebolt against the wall, and stared at Hermione, willing himself to believe that he was only assuming…
" You brought…Fred and George?" He demanded in a whisper.
" Honestly, Harry, they're not really so bad! A bit of a flare for the dramatic, and they're strange, but they're good people and they wanted to help, and I seriously doubt they'll be in much danger from your family!"
" Hermione, you don't know…you didn't hear…" Harry closed his eyes briefly, remembering the disconsolate rage that had pounded through him when Dudley taunted him about Ginny. Fred and George Weasley, twins and Ron's older brothers, had teased Ginny mercilessly at Hogwarts, but they were protective of her as well. If they heard…
" Hermione." Harry spoke with his eyes still closed. " Where…are they?"
" At the front door, using those Extendable Ears. Harry, what…?"
But Harry knew what would happen a moment before it did, because suddenly Dudley was shrieking—for the benefit of amusing his friends, Harry guessed, " Yeah, Harry's little girlfriend got kidnapped. Little freak."
" Little idiot!" One of the boys chimed in.
" Little bitch!" Piers howled. " I hope she dies!"
And then Harry was running, leaping down the stairs two at a time and drawing his wand as he did so. He could see them all still in the kitchen, laughing, as he barreled toward the doorway…
A blur of black-and-red streaked from the foyer. Harry was nearly knocked backwards as a lean but muscled shape slammed sidelong into Piers, sending him crashing from his seat, onto the floor.
The kitchen exploded within a heartbeat.
Swearing, Dudley leaped to his feet, his gang all around him. Uncle Vernon bellowed, Aunt Petunia shrieked, and Harry leaped forward, crying, " Fred, no!"
But Fred Weasley was beyond reason; he had pinned Piers Polkiss to the floor and was punching him so hard and so fast, Harry could hardly see his fists moving.
" Don't you DARE…" Fred's voice was louder than all the rest, incensed, maniacal with rage, and for the first time in his life Harry feared his friend. " Don't you DARE talk about my sister that way, you stupid, stupid Muggle bastard!"
" Fred, let him go!" Harry commanded, sliding between two of Dudley's gang in an effort to reach Fred. He got no farther than beside his cousin, however, because at the moment Harry drew even with him, Dudley swung around and punched Harry full-on in the face, sending him reeling.
" Harry!" Hermione shrieked from the base of the stairs.
" What was that for?' Harry demanded thickly, blood running between his fingers from his broken nose.
" For that!" Dudley gestured to his best friend, still being assaulted by Fred Weasley. " Call him off! Call of your stupid friend!"
Before Harry could reply—before he could even move—he heard Hermione speaking, away from him.
" George!"
And then Harry turned and saw that George Weasley was standing behind him, face ashen, eyes wide. He was shaking, though with anger or fear Harry didn't know. But as Harry swung back around and made to push past Dudley and his friends, who seemed rooted with shock, unable to decide whether they were brave enough to get within reach of Fred's flying fists, George stepped forward and flung out an arm, catching Harry around the chest and stopping him mid-stride.
" George, what're you…?"
" Stay back, Harry." George murmured, and his voice was strange, serious in ways Harry had never heard before. " Fred!"
In the same moment that George spoke, a great, unearthly explosion rocked the small house. Aunt Petunia screamed in earnest as Fred was flung back against the kitchen counter and collapsed in a crumbled heap, dazed, against the tiles.
Harry removed his hands from his nose and glanced up at George, who looked neither shocked nor fearful. Instead, he looked grimly determined.
And then there was a low, resonating staggering sound, and a voice—it must have been Piers, for none of the others' lips had move—spoke into the quiet.
" Harry Potter."
Harry's limbs locked. He stared straight forward as Dudley's gang parted to reveal Piers—oddly slouched, eyes glazed, face dripping blood from numerous lacerations—staggering upright. His lips were curved into a twisted, devilish smile.
" And so we meet again, Harry Potter, and with a certain satisfaction I must admit. For you cheated me of my killing, and I, you of your love. And so we are even."
" I knew it!" Hermione's strangled cry was full of triumph, and she raced to stand beside Harry and George. The three raised their wands simultaneously.
" Who are you?" Harry demanded, though he feared that he already knew.
" The Imperius Curse, such a wonderful gift to our kind, wouldn't you say, Harry?" Piers laughed, and the sound was cold, all of the wind of winter's bane. " I was surprised that you hadn't realized…after all, why would such a pathetic Muggle boy take such interest in your personal life?"
" V-V-Voldemort." Hermione hissed the name, her voice shaking. " How did he…why did he…?"
" Piers?"
Dudley's voice was no more than a faint squeak as he stepped forward, extending a hand toward his closest mate. Forgetting, for a moment, his broken nose and who had caused it, Harry cried out automatically, " Dudley, no, don't…!"
There was a loud bang, and Dudley hit the wall beside Fred and slid to the floor. Aunt Petunia didn't scream this time—she looked near to fainting.
Piers' arm lowered back to his side, and he turned back to face Harry, his eyes oddly malicious.
" The power to channel magic through a non-magical body using the Imperius Curse…a recent ability I've developed, and useful, don't you think?" He snorted. " Of course, this Muggle was particularly easy to curse—he was so very simple-minded, but I must admit I was very surprised that you didn't pick up on it before the Mudblood did…"
" Don't call her that!" Harry and George spoke over each other, raising their wands higher.
" What will you do, Harry Potter, kill this boy? Kill him to drive me from his body? Are you really so loathe to hear what I've come to say, that you would take an innocent life to silence me?"
" Say it, then, and get out!" Harry spat. He was trembling with rage.
" Very well." Piers' jaw hung slack for a moment, and then he continued, " You know that I have the girl. You know that she is of value to me. And so I would ask for something of equal value in return for her."
" What?" Harry demanded, his voice flat.
" Ah, Potter, you come ahead of yourself." Piers chuckled dryly. " Not quite so soon, I think. I only need to know if you have been dreaming lately."
" I…what?" Harry stammered, his wand arm dropping a fraction.
" I thought so." Piers chuckled softly. " Then I assume you will be seeing the way made clear before long, Potter. Before long…"
Piers' entire body began to shake violently. His hand flung back and his arms went rigid. Uncle Vernon roared with rage and fear, and as he stepped forward a voice cried out, " Stupefy!" Piers slammed face-first onto the flooring tiles, and Hermione's hand seized Harry's elbow, tugging him toward the foyer.
" Harry, go! Go!" She cried. And somehow Harry managed to turn away from the kitchen, thrown into instant tumult as Dudley and Piers were overcome by the others, and follow Hermione and George out into the cool twilight.
" Alright, Harry?' A voice spoke from behind him, and Harry jumped, spinning around as Fred followed him out, massaging a horrendous swelling lump on the back of his head. His fiery hair, a Weasley trademark, was stained with blood.
" I'm fine, what about you?" Harry asked, concerned.
" Just a flesh wound." Fred replied, but his voice had hardened. " I should've listened to you, George, old boy. Didn't think…couldn't imagine that that bloke was You-Know-Who's puppet. Glad I got to Stun him, though."
" Why did you do that?" Hermione demanded reproachfully. " You're not meant to do magic in front of Muggles, you know that very well!"
" What was I supposed to do, Hermione?" Fred sounded angry now. " You heard what Dad's been saying, you know what You-Know-Who has been learning."
" What's he learning?" Harry inquired as Fred, George, and Hermione exchanged swift glances.
" Magical Channeling." George answered at last, looking greatly disturbed. " Dad says it's one of the most forbidden arts, putting your magical self into another person's body, because it not only weakens the Magic-giver but it can kill the host, too, if the body can't handle the strain…"
" He almost killed Piers?" Harry felt sickened. He hated Piers, but not so much as to wish that sort of death on him.
" iIt's quite painful, I hear." Fred added. " Imagine, Harry, that someone poured fire in your veins and burned you from the inside out, and you'd have a death by Magical Channeling. Very, very explicit."
" Why'd you Stun him?" Harry inquired curiously.
" The host has to be fully conscious for the spell to work, otherwise the mental connection gets severed." Fred explained.
" You shouldn't have provoked him, you shouldn't have given Voldemort a reason to show himself…" Hermione was shaking her head gravely.
" Time enough to discuss that later, eh?" Fred clapped her on the back. " George, would you mind doing the honors, my head's a bit fuzzy at the moment…"
" Right-o." George replied cheerfully. Raising his wand, he cried, " Accio trunk, Accio owl cage, Accio Firebolt!"
Harry's meager luggage essentials flew through the partially-ajar front door, into George's hand. He promptly dropped the trunk on his foot and howled a swearword, then recovered himself enough to pass Hedwig's cage to Hermione and reach out to rest one hand on Harry's shoulder.
" Side-Along Apparating, if you're up for it." He said. " Dunno how much you know about it, but it's a bit strange in the feeling, it'll take you some time to get used to it."
" Sure." Harry shrugged, his mind elsewhere.
" Right, then." George tossed the Firebolt to Fred, who caught it while wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulders and pulling her close. George muttered something under his breath…
And then they were flying, with the strangest sensation of being squeezed into a very tight space, like falling through a tunnel that was not wide enough to accommodate them. Harry found himself holding his breath, keeping his hand fisted on the back of George's shirt as they flew…
And then his knees hit wet turf, and Harry rolled over sideways, feeling a cold breeze undulating across his blood-stained face. He heard a hollow pop and a thud, and then Hermione was gasping, " Never again, oh, I hate Side-Along…"
" It wasn't that bad." Fred muttered, but he sounded distinctly shaky." I hope Mum finds us out here soon, because I don't think I can walk one step…"
Harry had to agree. He felt quivery and sick, the wind rushing through his ears, too loud, and he felt remarkably comfortable on the damp grass…
" Fred? George? Hermione? Where on earth have you…Harry!"
Harry recognized Mrs. Weasley's shocked voice echoing toward them across what must have been a large open space. He guessed they were on the back lawn of the Burrow, but he couldn't be certain, he didn't open his eyes for fear he would be sick…
" Harry, dear?"
Mrs. Weasley's voice was much closer, now. Groaning, biting his tongue to hold back the bile that blistered against his throat, Harry prized open his tired eyes.
Molly Weasley was hovering an inch away from him, her face contorted with worry. She was obviously surprised to see him, and she did not appear too happy to see the state of his face. Harry lifted one hand and touched his tender nose, wincing as the broken bone shifted.
" 'Lo, there, Mrs. Weasley." He mumbled. " The others rescued me."
" So it would seem." Mrs. Weasley sighed. She pulled out her wand, aimed it at Harry's face—causing him to flinch slightly—and she muttered a spell under her breath. Instantly, the pain in his nose vanished as the break mended itself. Breathing a bit easier, Harry muttered a low " Thanks."
Mrs. Weasley nodded to him curtly. Then, her face hardening, she turned away from Harry and spoke to someone he couldn't see, " If you two ever do anything like this again…"
And then her voice shot through three octaves as she cried, " Fred!"
Harry heard a horrible retching noise, and something inside of him seemed to come alive. Rolling over, he pushed himself into a sitting position just in time to see Fred collapse, blood dripping from his mouth.
" Arthur! Arthur, fetch Mad-Eye, something's wrong with Fred!" Molly shrieked in the direction of the house. Harry saw George scrambling toward his twin, looking frantic as Fred coughed, spraying blood across the grass.
" Harry!"
Hermione had crawled to his side and was grasping his hand so tightly that his fingers were numb.
" What's wrong with him?" Harry whispered.
" I think…I think Voldemort must have cursed him." Hermione's voice was barely a breath. " Oh, no, no…"
" What?" Harry demanded, his eyes riveted on the ghastly scene before him.
" Remember the Puking Pastilles they made for their joke shop?" Hermione whispered, nodding toward Fred and George. " This is like the same thing, only…oh, I know I read this before, when we were looking up the Polyjuice Potion in our second year…"
" Why would Voldemort curse Fred like that? He's not even a member of the Order, he wasn't hurting Voldemort at all!" Harry felt beyond worried—he was full of hot, boiling rage.
" I've been talking to Mr. Weasley about Channeling Magic, he said it's a very imprecise method because the wizard in control of the host has less power over the magic they're putting into the host's system, they can do too much or too little, demanding in large part on the circumstances in which they use the magic…Piers was being assaulted, his body must have been working in overdrive, and the adrenaline would have heightened the magic, maybe changed it…"
" Poor Mrs.. Weasley." Harry murmured. First Ginny, now Fred…
Harry heard footsteps pounding toward them across the yard; glancing over his shoulder, he saw Mr. Weasley racing to join them, with Mad-Eye Moody stumping along behind him. Remus Lupin was trailing, looking distressed and somewhat interested but reserved, as always. When he saw Harry and Hermione crouched on the grass, his expression changed abruptly; he looked infinitely more alert, and he moved swiftly to stand beside them,
" You two, come with me." He ordered. " And you, George."
" No, I'm staying." George's voice was pitched high with fear, and he was cradling Fred's nearly-unconscious body in his arms. " I want to know…"
" Fine." Lupin interrupted quickly. He seized Harry beneath the elbow and pulled him upright; Hermione scrambled to her feet beside them, and then Lupin swung around and marched back toward the Burrow, towing Harry, with Hermione following close behind.
The moment they were out of earshot of the Weasleys, Lupin released Harry and stepped into his path, turning to face him with arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
" Tell me what happened."
" Hermione, Fred, and George came to get me from my Aunt and Uncle's house." Harry explained wearily. " We were just about to leave when one of my cousin's friends—Piers Polkiss—made a stupid remark about Ginny. Fred went after him, but Piers wasn't himself, he was being possessed by Voldemort…Fred and George called it Magical channeling…and he said he wanted to get something from me in exchange for Ginny…"
Lupin was studying Harry with a calculating gaze. For once, Hermione was silent, watching them.
Then Lupin stepped toward Harry and embraced him. And with his mouth close to Harry's ear, he whispered, " How long since you last slept?"
Harry's reply was reflexive beyond his surprise that Lupin even knew.
" Five days."
Lupin stepped back, his brow furrowed. He looked utterly upset.
" Inside, you two. Ron is upstairs."
And without another word, he brushed past them and headed back to join the others, clustered around Fred's body.
Harry stared after him, wondering…
" Harry, come on, we need to tell Ron…" Hermione was pulling on his hand again, and Harry followed her obediently across the wide, sloping lawn, up the back porch steps, and into a warm house that spelled faintly of cinnamon.
Harry paused just inside the back door, inhaling deeply, realizing only as he did that the unique difference between the Weasleys' kitchen and the Dursleys' was that the kitchen of Number Four, Privet Drive always smelled of soap and stank of cleanliness. Here, things seemed more natural, fresher, in a way. It was obvious that people actually lived here.
" I missed this place." Harry murmured, running his hand affectionately along the rutted wooden tabletop as they passed.
" It feels like home." Hermione whispered.
" You're back."
The voice that spoke was flat, almost bored, and Harry could hardly believe it came from the mouth of his best friend. But when he glanced sharply upward, he saw Ron leaning against the kitchen doorway, watching them; his fiery red hair had grown long in recent months, and it was obvious that he hadn't bothered to have it cut yet; it hung in his eyes and framed his pale, freckled face, which was contorted into a frown.
" Hey, mate." Harry greeted cautiously, unsure of flat look in Ron's eye. " Listen, something's happened to Fred, he's…"
" I saw from my window." Ron interrupted curtly.
For a moment, he and Harry continued to watch one another, with Hermione standing between them, head swiveling slowly from side to side, her face full of trepidation.
And then Ron stepped forward, clasped Harry's hand, pulled him forward, and embraced him tightly. Harry returned the hug with all of the force he could muster, and he felt, strangely, as though some sort of communication passed between Ron and himself in that moment of contact; memories of the long walk home from the train flooded over him, and Harry closed his eyes.
Hermione laughed softly, breathlessly, after a moment, and then she wrapped her arms around them both and pressed close against them
" I'm glad you're here, Harry." Ron murmured, his voice slightly broken.
" Yeah." Harry whispered. " Me, too."