The Man Who Lives
By: PenPatronus

Chapter 3:

The Inflatable Fireplace

" …and Percy's not talking to us…What if something d-d-dreadful happens and we had never m-m-made up?" –Molly (5, 177)

The first thing they saw was the Dark Mark.

It hovered, getting bigger as the horizon got closer, green and glittering in a dark emerald fog of smoke. The snake that stuck out like a tongue from the skull's jaw was swaying back and forth in a gruesome dance. Remus cursed (the only time Harry had even heard him do so) and urged the car faster as they sped down the long drive-way that led to the Burrow. Harry, deflated all the more by the sight of the death omen, sank lower into his seat. The night air was oddly cold when Remus leapt out not a moment after he put the Anglia into park. Lupin jogged forward, his silhouette outlined in green from the eerie flames sprouting where the Burrow used to be. Harry slowly emerged from the car and went to stand next to his godfather, though he only managed to get half-way there. Harry felt absolutely nothing as he stared at the ashes. He knew what the Mark meant, he knew what the flames meant, he knew what the throbbing in his scar and Remus' shouts and the realization that he'd half-gained one family and lost another within an hour…cold invaded Harry Potter's entire being. He didn't even feel the impact of his knees hitting the dirt.

Harry's heart screamed for Ron, but he couldn't even hear it anymore. And the dancing skull above his head found the entire scene quite amusing.

Remus was speaking, something about leaving in case the Death Eaters came back, something about contacting Dumbledore, something about how they could've escaped through the fireplace but Harry had seen the speed of the flames so he merely nodded.

In his mind a 13-year-old redhead was standing on a broken leg and yelling "If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!"

It's my fault, it's my fault everything's my fault I either lead people to their deaths or lead death to them…

Suddenly there were two popping sounds from behind them. Harry registered the whooshing sound of Remus whipping out his wand as he pivoted past his godson. But Harry remained still, his eyes glued to the ashes, half expecting, half wanting a murdering green spell to pass through his back and into his already shattered heart. But two syllables from a familiar voice repaired his heart faster than it could beat.

"Harry?"

Arthur and Molly Weasley, stained, singed, and shaking but oh so very much alive dashed forward and sandwiched Harry in a ferocious embrace. "You're alive!" all three wizards exclaimed at one another. Molly wiped her dirty face, which had vertical beelines of tears down her cheeks, on Mark Evans' borrowed t-shirt as she continued to hug Harry with all her might.

"Maun?" Harry asked from the dip between her neck and shoulder, "Mare's Maun? Mand Minny?"

"They're ok, Harry," Mr. Weasley assured him. Harry felt weak again, and he stopped resisting Molly's arms. "But Ron was still unconscious when we left. They're with Fred and George."

"What happened?" Remus quietly asked.

"Oddest thing," Mr. Weasley was trying too hard to force a smile. He ran dirty fingers through his fading red hair and several flakes of ash dropped out. "We sat down to eat, but didn't really get to that because we'd yet to hear how Harry was…" He stared at Harry for a long moment. Molly's hands remained securely on Harry's shoulders and he leaned back against her.

"Well, the four of us were at the table when this bloody comet of green flame came through the roof, went straight through that ghoul in our attic and took out my collection of bightlulbs." Mrs. Weasley snorted so loudly that the force of it flattened Harry's uncontrollable black hair. "And suddenly there was green fire everywhere. We ran for the door and Ginny opened it but there were Death Eaters all around the perimeter, and the closest one shot a curse at Ginny." Arthur took a shaky breath.

Remus spoke up, though his voice had quieted down even more. "It was a new spell, wasn't it, an incantation you've never heard before." Harry's frown deepened. He was struggling to hear Remus, struggling to hear any of their voices, they just sounded so far away. Harry was still waiting for the numbness to fade away again…

Arthur nodded, "I can't even remember how it was pronounced. And it hit Ron, right in the chest. He pushed Ginny out of the way." Harry closed his eyes and swallowed. Molly patted his back.

"So how did you get out?" Remus urged.

Arthur shook his head. He raised his eyes as if avoiding theirs, and stared at the hovering Dark Mark. "We almost didn't. They had us completely surrounded, and the fire was eating everything up fast. But it was so cold. There wasn't just an absence of heat like one of those prank fireworks the twins buy in Hogsmeade, it was actually freezing." Harry felt he should've spoken up then, but he couldn't summon the motivation. "They had disconnected us from the Floo Network and put an anti-Disapparation jinx over the house. We thought we were trapped." Arthur suddenly grinned and reached into his pocket. "But then I remembered this."

What he put under Harry's nose was just a maroon brick inscribed with "WWW." Harry blinked. He felt like saying "You threw this through a window?" but nothing came out. He wanted to see Ron.

"An Instant, Portable, Inflatable, Pre-Floo-Powdered One-Way Fireplace." Molly recited at monotone. "Or an "IF," Inflatable Fireplace. My son's latest invention for creatively advertising their little joke shop."

"Which saved our lives, dear." Arthur reminded her, all of the humor uncharacteristically gone from his voice. "And the lives of our children." Molly nodded. "The twins gave us a few prototypes while we were waiting for the train. They haven't exactly experimented with them yet but basically if you need to buy something, every IF is supposed to take you right to the shop, during open hours of course. They regulate it through their permanent fireplace."

"How ingenious," Remus smiled, crossing his arms to his chest. Just then the light from the Dark Mark re-caught Remus' eyes and with a whip of his wand he punctured it. Skull and snake sailed away, a cackling green kite. Harry was warming up now that the remaining flames had burned out. "Thank Merlin it worked."

"Yes indeed. I scooped up Ron and we all scrambled through just in time…"

"Can I take it to go see Ron?" Harry finally erupted, though it came out as a faint whisper.

"Oh, oh yes, of course," Arthur said as if suddenly remembering that Harry was there. Arthur traced the middle "W" with his forefinger while chanting "Whiz Wheeze Whereabouts" and before Harry's eyes the brick was suddenly two bricks, which multiplied into a dozen, followed by twice as many. Soon there was an entire square brick archway blocking Remus from Harry's sight, the three "W"s had sprouted into the full name, "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."

"Off you go, Harry," Molly nudged him into the fireplace; "Arthur and I need to have a little talk with Remus."

Harry didn't hesitate but stepped through and was engulfed with maroon flames. Half a moment later he tumbled into the lobby of Fred and George's joke shop, making a mental note to remind the twins to fix the reentry speed. Harry would've been able to figure out where he was even if he hadn't been told; it could hardly be anyplace else in the world, wizard or Muggle. Although the only light leaking in was from the lamps lining Diagon Ally, Harry was still nearly blinded by the brightness of the store. Shelves of various lengths, colors and shapes were lined with candies wrapped in assorted packaging, barrels of fireworks with their lit samples still bouncing around the room, packets of trick wands that automatically magnifies the spell back on the caster, automatic quicksand to compliment the Hogwarts swamp, and a variety of drinks guaranteed to sprout facial hair, cure bad breath or cause purple bogeys. Harry was about to pluck an Exploding Snitch from a fake Snidget nest when he heard Weasley voices. He looked past the front counter and spotted a skinny spiral staircase disappearing behind a wall.

"Meanus Clemente?"

"No no, the first word started with "Mo" and the second with an "L."

"Moses Leche?"

"Moron Latte?" The first voice was Fred, the third, George. Or vice versa, Harry wasn't sure and didn't care. He started climbing two steps at a time as Ginny continued to scold her brothers.

"Oh you two, you're just confusing us more."

"Mum must've given you two "Moron Lattes" when you were little you—" the sentence was interrupted by a few moments of heavy coughing, "…unhelpful gits!"

Harry had just reached the second floor when he tracked the voices to a door across from the stairs, the second of two bedrooms. At the sound of that fourth familiar voice, his heart catapulted him into the room.

"I think you were closer the second time. Moonish Lagoon, Morris Lamp—HARRY!"

Harry barreled past the stunned twins, nearly through Ginny and literally dived into the bed where a currently conscious Ron was sitting up and leaning on his knees. Wordlessly, the two best friends embraced and after the initial shock Harry felt three hands against his back.

"Blimey Harry, we thought you were dead," one of the twins whispered. Ginny sniffled in agreement and Ron squeezed Harry even tighter, digging his face into Harry's shoulder. But then Ron's grip slackened and Harry had to quickly readjust his weight to maneuver Ron's weakened body into the pillows. Harry immediately sensed his friend's exhaustion, though Ron was grinning with relief. Simultaneously, each asked if the other was ok.

"Fine, mate," Ron assured him only after Harry had answered. Ron turned and coughed towards the corner of the wall before speaking again, a little hoarsely. "Just a little tired, don't know what hit me." Harry ran his trembling fingers through his black hair and found himself sympathetic of how Remus must've felt just an hour before. His nose and lips suddenly crinkled.

"Harry, I'm ok," Ron whispered, his voice husky. "I'm all right, Harry…"

Harry settled himself beside his best friend, took his glasses off and dug his fists into his eyes, surprised that there were any tears left inside of him. When he could focus again he got a good look at Ron, who was just as dirty as the rest of them, but alarmingly pale beneath the soot. The thought-welts from the brain in the Department of Mysteries still crisscrossed his forearms, but the red spell mark on Ron's bare chest, shaped like a single raindrop having hit pavement, looked like it would leave a scar as well from the burn. Ron shifted onto his side and Harry caught the wince of pain his friend tried to hide. Ron coughed again. "Is it cold in here?"

Harry, trying to disguise his own movements, leaned in to pull the blankets up to Ron's chin. He could feel the heat even from six inches away. Ron had a fever.

"Don't get comfortable, Ronnie," Fred said after Harry offered a quick summary of what had happened to him. The Weasleys mourned more for Hedwig and the Firebolt than the Dursleys. "Is Pig…?" "We'd sent him to Bill before we left the train station."

"Yeah," George echoed from the end of Ron's bed, "We do charge rent, you know." There was a hint of a smile on his face that barely reached his eyes as he stared at his little brother.

"We won't be staying long," came a voice from the door. Lupin had arrived, Arthur right behind him. Molly shouldered her way into the bedroom and went to sit at Ron's chest, kissing her son on the forehead and whispering to him as she stroked his hair. "We need to find a safer place for Harry at least."

"No," Harry said, though he was looking at Ron while talking to Remus. "I want to stay with them." He found himself memorizing every freckle.

Remus sighed but didn't argue. "I better go update Dumbledore. Molly—"

"We'll look after him, Remus."

Harry heard Remus sigh once more, then a pop when he Disapparated away. Ron suddenly coughed again, violently this time, and it lasted too long. When he plopped back down from his mother's shoulder, Harry saw speckles of blood on Molly's shirt, and a sliver of it around Ron's lips. Renewed fear seized everyone in the room, excluding Ron, whose eyes were closed as he concentrated on regulating his breathing, not even noticing the blood when he began to cough again.

"Arthur—"

"I'll get Madam Pomfrey herself, Molly."

"So, any luck on that pronunciation? Do you remember it at all?" Molly asked, turning to her daughter as Arthur Disapparated and Ron continued the uncontrollable spasms. Molly's fingers quivered as she continued to comb them through his red hair.

"Vaguely. Fred and George just confused us more!"

The twins looked offended. "It's not our fault Ronnie opted to dive in front of the spell instead of taking notes on it!" Fred exclaimed.

"I think he's faking it." George winked at his brother whose eyes were only half open, finally resting quietly against the pillows. Ron smiled back, but seemed to be in a semi-conscious daze. His hand reached for Harry's who took it in both of his. "I'm kicking him out of my bed tonight whether he likes it or not. And if you lot are staying here, you're either paying rent or letting us experiment on you!" Harry wanted to laugh but his throat felt like he'd swallowed a swollen house-elf.

A moment later there was a high-pitched shriek as someone tumbled out of the downstairs fireplace. Apparently Arthur had landed nearly on top of Madam Pomfrey because she squawked again before the thump of Mr. Weasley's butt hitting the ground echoed throughout the shop. Harry, Ginny and the twins ("Hiya, Poppy!") were promptly shooed out of the room when the nurse, (barefoot and clothed in a nightdress and robe) bustled up the stairs, and were let back in a quarter-hour later when she finally emerged. She looked bedraggled but in a flustered whirlwind fixed Harry's shoulder, a patch of acne on Ginny's chin, told Molly to lose some weight and checked Arthur's blood pressure without looking before she staggered down the stairs and through the fireplace. Harry hurried inside, followed by the Weasley siblings, and found Ron asleep, the red mark of the spell nearly erased. Molly had brought a chair up beside the bed and watched her son sleep while Arthur hissed at them to be quiet, then whispered what the nurse had told them.

"Nasty spell, this one." Arthur shook his head, as unable to take his eyes off of Ron as Harry was. "Went straight into his heart, sent little daggers through his blood stream that punctured his organs. Internal bleeding isn't too quick of a fix, mind you. But apparently it could've been worse, the Death Eaters are probably working to make the daggers bigger, whatever they're actually made of. Eventually that spell could enter someone and the next minute they could be a pincushion, internal organs impaled straight through." Harry shivered, mostly at the passive tone of Mr. Weasley's voice, as if he'd gotten used to discussing killing curses. "Plenty of luck tonight, I'd say." Mrs. Weasley sighed at that, and bent once again to kiss Ron's forehead. The fever had been broken and sweat streaked across Ron's skin, but other than that he looked just like he always did when asleep next to Harry in the dormitories. Harry sat down on the edge of the bed again, unusually quiet, even for him. The twins had just settled against the far wall and Ginny had just sat in front of them when yet another Apparation pop echoed from downstairs.

"Fred? George!" a cracking voice called. Whoever it was took an audible deep breath, sniffed rather loudly and called out again, "Guys—the Burrow, the Burrow's been destroyed, people are saying there are no, no survivors—Fred, G-G-George, are you here?" The male voice drifted off into perceptible tears.

All of the Weasleys froze, and Molly and Arthur exchanged intense looks. Suddenly Harry realized he was familiar with the voice, but not that tone. Almost before anyone could blink again Arthur had dashed across the room and down the spiral staircase, closely followed by Molly who'd hesitantly left her son's side. Ginny had her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin in her palms, staring wide-eyed at the door. The twins tensed up and went to stand in the doorframe, watching the exchange below. A moment later Ginny burst into tears and blindly found her way to the door and safely down, her brothers tiptoeing after her, unsure how to react. Harry turned back to Ron as he listened to the tears and exclamations of joy of a reunited family.

"Well, Ron, it's probably a good thing you're unconscious because you'd probably punch him…Percy's back."

By midnight, Ginny was asleep in Fred's room down the hall, and both of the twins were curled up on the floor of George's. Harry still sat on the edge of Ron's bed, concluding that he was fed up with seeing his friends like this. The shadows slithering across Ron's pale face were shaped too much like dementors and Harry found himself feeling unsafe even with the people he loved. He would actually feel better at the Grimmauld Place, even if it wasn't the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters anymore.

Sirius. Harry suddenly realized he'd gone a record of five minutes without thinking about his former godfather. He'd been quiet the rest of the evening which seemed to alarm Mrs. Weasley as much as Ron's condition. Sighing, Harry took his shoes off, readjusted the bandage around his shoulder that Madam Pomfrey had magicked on, and sat down on the floor beside Ron's bed like a watchdog, waiting to get tired. Ron groaned in his sleep above him, but voices that swiftly rose from downstairs caught Harry's attention. He tiptoed to the top landing of the spiral staircase, where he could see only a few feet past the twins' cash register, far enough to spot who was down there.

Remus had returned and was leaning resignedly into the counter while Arthur, Molly and Percy formed a half-circle around him. "Dumbledore says we're not going back," Remus was saying. "Even if they can't actually see number 12, they can still burn the entire block down. We can't risk endangering us or the Muggles."

"So perhaps it would be best to hide right under their noses, in a public place." Mr. Weasley offered. "They're going to be searching for Order members in every remote place so they might not even think to look right here."

"How separate from the Ministry will you be?" Percy quietly asked. Harry was shocked at the lack of superciliousness in his voice. "Fudge is increasing the ranks of Aurors, but not very quickly. At this point he seems to be more worried about keeping everyone calm then forming any sort of offensive."

"We take our orders from Dumbledore," Remus said with finality. "And Dumbledore doesn't take his orders from the Ministry. During the first war the Order was looked at as a group of rebels who had their own warped ideas of justice and how to fight back, but the Aurors didn't even know where to start. Some thought we were heroes, most thought we were crazy. But obviously we were the biggest threat to Voldemort considering he tried to kill us all off." Harry noticed that none of the Weasleys flinched at the Dark Lord's name.

"We can do nothing more tonight," Molly said quietly. "I'll talk to Fred and George in the morning, they've been so eager to be official members of the Order anyway. But what about Harry, Remus? He doesn't seem to be himself today."

"Molly I'm not sure if the "himself" he used to be will ever be again."

"But don't—don't you think we should tell him about…? He might perk up if he knew there was a chance that—"

"No, Molly." Remus sighed, casting a flanking glance at Percy who for once wasn't about to butt into business that was not his own. "Dumbledore and I both agree that until something can really be done, we'd better not get his hopes up. I'm going to back to Hogwarts tonight, see if Snape has turned up yet. I'll be back in the morning." Remus Disapparated.

"Well…" Percy began, shifting his weight away from his parents. "I guess I'll get going too. Fudge wants me in by six tomorrow and…" He hesitated amid his own thought process, "And I want to get there early enough to give him my resignation."

"Percy, you don't—"

"I want to, Mum. I'm on your side, and I'm not sure whose side I was on before."

Arthur, who'd been staring contemplatively at a shelf of Rainbow Raisins, spoke up, "Percy, how about you go into work tomorrow and come back here on your lunch break and talk to Dumbledore. If you want to work with the Order, son, you might help best by keeping your job." Percy nodded at that and for a moment Harry saw his old arrogant pride return. For some reason that normality was comforting.

"By the way, dear, how is Penelope doing?"

"Wish I knew. She broke up with me nine months ago…Mum, Dad…" Percy moved to take Lupin's spot leaning against the counter. Harry could see his cheeks flushing from above. "I just wanted—I thought I'd lost my family tonight and I'm sorry about…everything. I was wrong…"

Three quarters of an hour later, Molly slowly climbed the stairs after Arthur and Percy Disapparated. Harry, who'd been pretending to be asleep on the floor, shut his eyes when she entered the room, listened as she sighed then closed the door. Harry fingered the Watch as he drifted off to sleep.

Outside the window a bright star winked down at him.