A/N: Two lines from this chapter are taken verbatim from Chamber of Secrets. I trust you can identify them, and will believe me when I say they're JKR's, not mine.
Phantasmatic
Chapter Three
Labyrinthine
Life behind bars was exactly as Harry might have imagined it – had he imagined it – except for one blessing neither Dobby nor the Dursleys could have undone: He was not alone.
The events of Dobby and the Masons had been two days ago. It was eight-thirty at night, a day and a half since Uncle Vernon had put bars to his windows and locked him in, and the night was blistering hot. It was a strange day, a day that saw little of the sun until it began to set.
And in the heat of the night, he was thrown back, years into the future.
"GINNY!" he shouted, sprinting down a dark corridor.
The passage was labyrinthine. He turned a corner, running as quickly as he could, and fire exploded down the passage behind him, crushing itself against an unyielding face of stone.
"GINNY!" he shouted again, ducking his head slightly as he ran. The heat of the fire on his back faded as someone drowned the flames. He cursed the Anti-Apparation Ward; if not for it, he could be with her now.
A green curse flew over his head and slammed into a wall thirty feet ahead of him. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" he roared, his wand firing over his shoulder. Time had changed him.
He kept running. The end of the maze had to be near. Inspiration-struck, he turned his head. "Mura," he whispered heavily, and a stone wall was thrown up behind him. It wouldn't hold the Death Eaters long, but it might buy him a few seconds.
Come on! he intoned. Come on! This was taking too long. For a moment he cursed himself. He had seen Voldemort fly with his own eyes, but hadn't bothered to learn how the Dark Lord had done it. It could have helped him now. But no – the space was too confined. He'd have flown into something.
"GINNY!" he shouted again and her name echoed down the corridor beside his footsteps and others'. He didn't care who knew he was coming. She had to know to hold on, whatever was happening to her now. And Harry couldn't think it.
He turned another corner, still sprinting, and then he saw it: Light ahead. Fire light. He heard an explosion in another direction – the Death Eaters must have broken through his wall. And then there was fire again. Heat exploded behind him, the temperature rising.
"Mura," he whispered again. If he'd had time, he would have thrown something longer lasting; but time wasn't on his side. He didn't just have to outrun Death Eaters, he had to save his wife. Ginny...
Another explosion rocked the stone corridor. He threw a Blasting Curse over his shoulder and smiled at the sound of a scream. Time had changed him.
He reached the archway that opened up into the fire room. And there she was, in a semicircle of black-robed Death Eaters, opposite Lord Voldemort himself.
"TOM!"
The dream, the memory, the vision – whatever it was – faded, and he was in his room again, no longer racing through dark corridors, lit only by flames and spell-light.
They were shaken, both of them. There could be no denying it. I don't… I don't even know what… what that was, Harry said, his eyes wide and sightless and staring. I….
Ginny was pale. I didn't think that's what it would… what it would be like. What it was like. She swallowed. Is that how it's going to be? Is that what's going to happen?
I.… Ginny, I think we have to write this down. He was terrified. If that's what it was… what it was like, we have to remember…. If we can remember… if we can remember how it was, maybe we can… we can stop it.
Ginny was silent for a moment, but he thought he felt her nod. Do you have parchment and a quill? Or have the Dursleys locked that up with your things?
Yeah, it's under the cupboard – but there might be paper and a pen in here, somewhere. Dudley wouldn't have written anything.
Harry got off the bed and fell to his knees, looking underneath his bed for something to write with – a pen, a pencil, a notebook – anything. What he found, beneath his bed, behind a pair of old socks, was something he would never have expected Dudley Dursley to have owned.
It was a small book, blank-paged – a diary, simple and black. T.M. Riddle was written upon its face. And something sent a chill down Harry's spine again.
There's a diary. It says 'T.M. Riddle' on the front. It's not Dudley's – I'm sure it isn't Dudley's. I think I… I remember it. From before.
Ginny was silent for a moment. It's familiar, her voice was hollow and she was scared. Harry… I think there's something very wrong about that diary.
He closed his eyes tight and thought back, reaching into his brain.
I…. Images flashed in his head.
A monster. A snake, writhing. Stone. A sword. Red. Blood? And then words. Lethal words from a silken tongue.
"So ends the famous Harry Potter. Alonein the Chamber of Secrets..."
Furious words.
"THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELLHIM. KILL HIM!"
Thrashing.
And then his room was before his eyes again. He was sweating freely, and he couldn't now blame the heat of the night.
He was breathing deeply now, and he closed his eyes, his head against the side of his bed. Dobby was right, Ginny, he said. Something terrible is going to happen at Hogwarts this year.
She nodded in silence, and he knew it.
I think I should write Dumbledore, he said gravely. They had discussed – briefly – telling someone, and that someone usually was Dumbledore, about their bond, their link, their connection. But privacy had won out before. Now, though, with prophetic visions of a hellish near-future, could they still justify silence?
Yeah, she said softly. I think you should. Or I should – Hedwig's locked up.
Harry cast a glance at his encaged owl.
I don't… I'm not wild about him knowing, you know? Ginny said. I'd like us to be as private as possible, because I… would anyone understand? Could they? I… Harry, I've never heard of something like us before. Never, not even in the fairy tales.
But I… I saw what you did. Just now. I heard that voice. It was young. It had to have been a student, whoever was… was telling the monster to…. Someone at Hogwarts is going to try to… to kill you, Harry. And our privacy isn't worth…. It's not worth keeping quiet if Dumbledore could save you – us.
I know, Ginny, Harry said softly. I'd rather keep us to ourselves too. At least… this… um… this aspect of us. I know how… how uncomfortable you are with your family knowing. And… and I understand that. And I'm not keen on Ron knowing either.
So… so how about I write Dumbledore, whenever it is that your brothers get me out of here. Fred and George said they'd do it, right? You've got them convinced?
She might've smiled, but Harry couldn't be sure. Yes – they said that if you weren't answering Ron's mail, something was probably wrong, and that they would fly Dad's car out to Surrey if he hadn't heard back from you soon. I think they wanted an excuse to go on a rescue mission more than anything….
But I don't know, Harry, she said quietly. Dumbledore needs to know… soon. And if the twins don't go after you until… I don't know… the middle of the month… what if it's too late by then? What if your… our vision – what if it's in September? On the first day? What if Dumbledore would need three weeks to stop things, and because we wait, he only gets two, and everything…. What if Dumbledore doesn't have enough time to stop it? Time is… 'Time is of the essence,' she said, quoting another's favorite phrase. He needs to know as soon as we can tell him.
Harry smiled ruefully. Then I hope the twins spring me soon.
I think you should remember – that we both should remember, really – that, well, I got by once, right? Whatever it is that's going to happen this year, with the Chamber of Secrets, I lived long enough to… to kill Voldemort in my twenties. Or what looked like my twenties…. If I could do it once, I can do it again.
She didn't buy his optimism, and he didn't either. But someone had to say it.
Recalling his original purpose, Harry opened T.M. Riddle's diary and scribbled a few lines in it.
Chamber of Secrets. Monster. Mura. Voldemort. Fire. Death Eaters. Confringo. Adeva Kavedra.
The ink sunk into the pages.
And disappeared.
Something's happening, Ginny….
XXX-XX-XXXX
"Lucius Malfoy has been acting more pleased with himself than usual. I believe he's done something, or – more probably – is doing something, on behalf of the Dark Lord."
"Can you get closer?"
"I doubt it. Lucius doesn't invite me to his dinner parties as often now as he used to; you know my reputation at the Ministry."
"I do."
"Now that he's courting the Minister so aggressively, he can't chance being too closely associated with his old friends."
"Is he keeping Crabbe and Goyle near?"
"No; he seems to have cast them off as well.
"It would be wise, I think, to use one of his House Elves as eyes and ears. I ask your permission to use the Imperius Curse on one."
"You have it.
"Is there anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Thank you."
XXX-XX-XXXX
At two-thirty in the morning on August the third, Harry Potter awoke to the sounds of metal and his name spoken.
"Harry?"
The night had been hot again; it was lucky, or he might have closed his window before falling into sleep. As it was, the window was open, and he heard the voice.
Rolling out of bed, he knew it was time. "Fred? George?"
"George, actually; Fred's driving." Fred turned in the driver's seat and waved with a cheerful grin. "Here – be a mate and attach these to the bars," George said, handing him a pair of yellow straps with metal hooks on the end.
Harry did so. They're here, Ginny, he said, unsure if she was awake or asleep.
"Hello, Harry." Ginny was in the seat next to Fred. And she was beaming at him.
He wasn't sure he'd ever smiled so broadly in his life. "Hello, Ginny."
"Yeah, yeah, very sweet," George said, "making eyes with my sister – but grab this one too, and hook it around the other bar; you two can cuddle later." Harry, blushing, attached the last hook. "Great – now stand back. This is the loud part where bits fly."
Harry jumped back, watching Ginny watch him. You look wonderful, he said simply.
She smiled a little more at him. Yeah, if you like tired-looking girls with their hair in buns.
What?
Nevermind, Harry. She laughed. You don't look so great, on the other hand.
Well I just woke up – so that's not fair.
Suddenly there was a great revving of the Anglia's engine, then another, and another, and then, with a great crunching sound, the bars – along with some of the wall – was torn away.
For a moment, Harry stood absolutely silent, listening for any sounds at all from the rest of the house. But there were none – not even a cough or snore was audible.
Did they hear anything?
I… I think they're still asleep. There would be shouting, if they'd heard.
Fred parallel parked beside the house, put the car in park, and Ginny crawled over onto the back seat. Opening the driver's side door slightly, she and George crossed the gap from the car to Harry's window and entered the room.
"Hello," Harry said in a loud whisper. "And welcome to my room."
George cracked a smile and Ginny resisted the urge to throw her arms around him.
Harry suddenly felt his stomach fall to the floor. "All my stuff – my trunk, my wand, everything – is locked in my cupboard under the stairs." He didn't notice his slip. "And they've locked me in here – we can't get to it."
George grinned widely this time. "Don't worry about that." He turned. "Fred!" he said in a stage whisper. "Get in here – we've got to get his trunk up the stairs, and he still has to pack."
A moment later and Fred was in the room too, the Anglia idling above the garden.
"You two pack what you want from here – socks, jumpers, trousers, whatever – and we'll take care of your trunk. Come on, Fred."
They pulled two pins out of their trouser pockets and got to work on the door. A moment later, their was a small click and the doors opened. "Be back in a moment."
"Mind the third stair from the bottom!" Harry whispered desperately: he had only just remembered. "It creaks!"
Thumbs up and they were gone.
Ginny threw her arms around him, and he returned the embrace. You don't know how good it is to see you, she said.
I think I've got an idea. He breathed in, then laughed lightly in her ear. You even smell nice.
She grinned into his shoulder. Of course I smell nice – I'm a girl.
After a reluctant moment, they broke apart. "Fred and George are good at what they do – they'll be back in a minute. Do you have a bag? Something we can pack?"
"Yeah, actually," Harry said, crossing the room and picking up an old sports back Dudley never would have found useful. He and Ginny then started throwing things in.
After perhaps a minute, Ginny grabbed the diary by Harry's bed. "This too?" she asked, holding it up and feeling like someone had knocked her breath out.
He nodded. "Yeah," he said gravely. "Dumbledore has to see it."
Since the first night, Harry hadn't written in it. There was something very, very wrong with the diary; and with the way Tom Riddle wrote back, Harry suspected Dark magic. Ginny had reminded him of one of her father's sayings: Don't trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain.
"Okay."
"All right, you two?" asked one of the twins in a stage whisper as they re-entered his room, a hand clutching either handle of his trunk. "Give us a second to back the Anglia in and we'll put this thing in the boot, then we're gone."
Harry nodded, his sports back filled with old clothes and a diary. With a zip, he closed it and one of the twins got in the car and backed it in. They were quick in that thing.
"Give us a hand, Harry," the remaining twin said and they put the trunk and sports bag in the boot. "Great, we're done." He closed the boot.
And then Hedwig screeched. And everything went to hell. "Quiet!" Harry entreated of the bird. "They'll hear you!"
And they had. They had missed the crunching sound of a wall forcibly removed; but Vernon Dursley was apparently incapable of sleeping through an owl's screech.
"THAT BLOODY BIRD!" boomed a voice from beyond the door.
"Shit," swore the twin still in the room. "Wands out, Harry."
Harry felt ice into his heart. He'd heard that before. He couldn't remember where, but it hadn't ended well then.
"Just do it – we won't use them if we don't have to," said the twin, misjudging Harry's look.
"Right," he said solemnly, and he pulled his wand – the only thing he'd grabbed from his trunk before they'd stowed it away – out of his trouser pocket.
"You too, Ginny," the twin said, and the small girl complied, pulling out an old wand.
His door, no longer locked, flung open without restraint.
For a moment, Vernon Dursley stood, mad-eyed, before them, framed against the door and looking to charge like a bull.
"I'm leaving, Uncle."
The car parallel parked beside them. "Get in, Ginny," said one of the twins. She did as he told.
"My name is Fred Weasley, Mr. Dursley, and Harry will be staying with me and my family for the rest of summer."
"HE BLOODY WILL NOT!" The enraged man took three steps forward, aiming, by the look in his eye, to knock their teeth in.
"He bloody will, Mr. Dursley," Fred said. Harry would have found it hard to imagine this just moments before. Fred Weasley, one half of the most infamous and celebrated pranking duo in the history of Hogwarts, standing, his wand raised at a Muggle, his voice deadly serious.
"Get in, Harry," he said, his eyes and wand both trained on Uncle Vernon. Harry, like Ginny before him, did as he was told, Hedwig's cage under his arm.
"You keep your nephew caged in his room like an animal. You put bars on his window like a convict. We're taking him, and if you come an inch closer, I'll curse you," Harry heard Ginny's brother say. All three of the car's human occupants sat still, with faces of stone, hearing and watching Fred Weasley stare and shout down Vernon Dursley.
"You'll not harm me with that – that thing! You've got laws against it! I know – he broke them!"
And Vernon took another few steps, charging at Fred, who didn't use his wand.
"You're right."
He lowered his shoulder for a moment, pulled back his arm, and threw a punch so hard into Uncle Vernon's face that it knocked him to the floor.
Fred got into the car, crawled over into the front passenger's seat, and with a roar of cheers, George took off into the night, leaving behind the Dursleys and a bloodied Vernon.
"That was amazing, mate!" Harry shouted to Fred as the Anglia flew into the clouds.
Fred smiled. "He had it coming eventually; honestly, bars on your window? Muggles are animals."
"They're not all," Harry said quickly. "Just this family of them."
"Right," Fred said, his cheeks red either from embarrassment, shame, or the heat of what had just happened. "That's what I meant – I know they aren't all. Dad loves them, and we're not like the Malfoys. They really do think Muggles are animals."
Harry nodded, understanding, and sunk into the backseat, Ginny beside him. "Thank you, all three of you," he said. "They weren't going to let me back."
And thank you especially, Harry said to Ginny. Without you, I'd have gone mad weeks ago, and would've never gotten out of there. So… so thank you, love. He let his hand fall onto the space between him and Ginny, and she took it.
You don't have to thank me, she said with a genuine, if sleepy smile. I've got you now.
Yes, he said. Yes, you do.
Not long later, he and Ginny fell asleep, closer and closer in their sleep, until they were leaning against each other, their hands still joined.
"Mum'll have kittens," said Fred, looking in the rearview mirror back at the slumbering couple.
"Not if we get back to the Burrow in time."
"I meant about those two," he said. "Look."
George turned in his seat and grinned. "Do you know how much fun this is going to be?"
Fred grinned back.
"The most."
