A/N: Could it be?
I must inform you that, regrettably, this is the end of Part One. I decided to have a Part Two and stuff and take a break from this story. I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't hate me! I've just been really stressed lately and overloaded with both this story and The Heart's Most Unwanted Desire, and school, and nerds, and Halloween, and to top it all off, I'll be gone for about a week and I don't know if I can find a computer (with or without internet) to write my fics. Another reason this is late, friends! I don't know if it's Writer's Block or I've just been too lazy to write this chapter. I've actually been looking forward to this chapter, but I've just been slacking off lately. Bad, Indy!
I'll try to not take TOOOOOOOOOOOO long to update. But knowing how it is on Fanfiction, you guys most likely have a TON of other stories you're probably reading all at the same time—I myself have over fifteen or so fanfics I have really neglected these past few months. So, yes. Untouchable is being—gulp—put on hold.
Untouchable
A Harry Potter Fan-fiction
By: Indigo March
Chapter Eleven
Ambushed
A Park
3:27 pm
"Does anyone have a twenty on Potter and Weasley?"
Aldosta pulled the cap low over his eyes, nodding briefly at his partner, Brooks, who was leaning on the trunk of a park tree, his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.
"They're comin' now, Aldosta," came Brooks's voice over the "bug" in his ear. It was some muggle invention Aldosta thought was crap. Its continuous buzzing in his ear gave him a migraine. If he had a death wish, he would've ripped it out of his ear long ago, but it was necessary to keep it, so he could communicate with his fellow Hell Pixies stationed around the park.
"I'm moving closer," another Hell Pixie's, one named Moorgate's, voice came over the strange piece of plastic in Aldosta's ear.
As Moorgate obviously moved closer to Potter and Weasley, their voices came over the "bug," so Aldosta heard everything that was said.
"—you know why we can't tell Mum, Harry!" the girl, Ginny, was saying in exasperation.
"Why not?" Potter asked, not bothering to keep the frustration out of his voice.
"She'll go all gung ho on us!"
"Gung ho?"
"You know what I mean," she said, sounding embarrassed. Aldosta smirked. "I just . . . don't exactly want the whole Wizarding world at our wedding."
"Then tell her that! Tell her you want a small wedding."
"Do we move in, Aldosta?" Moorgate's voice asked him.
Aldosta tapped his chest, tugged on his ear, itched his nose and wagged his eyebrows.
"Are you okay, boss?" Brooks's voice asked him, sounding worried.
Aldosta rolled his eyes and repeated the process, a glare on his face.
"What the hell does that mean?" came Moorgate's voice.
Aldosta pounded on his chest, yanked on his ear, scratched his nose, and lifted his eyebrows up and down dramatically.
"Not followin' you, boss," they said simultaneously.
Aldosta rolled his eyes. "ADVANCE, YOU NIMRODS!"
A passing old lady glared suspiciously at him as she shuffled past, muttering, "Disrupting the peace . . . stupid young snipper-snapper."
Ignoring her, he began to jog down the path towards where Brooks and Moorgate were advancing on Harry and Ginny.
At that very moment, Harry happened to be becoming more and more annoyed with Ginny's stubbornness.
"I don't see the problem with standing up to your Mum, Ginny—"
"Did you hear that?" she said suddenly, cutting him off abruptly. She stood up from her place on the bench. Harry stopped pacing in front of her as he, too, stopped to listen. They were in a secluded part of the park, so unusual sound was, well, unusual.
"What do you hear?" he asked quietly.
Ginny tilted her head to the side. "Running."
She suddenly gasped, staring wide-eyed at something behind him. Harry whirled around, raising his arm to shield his face as the masked man leapt towards him, fist flying towards his nose.
Harry caught his fist in his hand, gritting his teeth as the strength of his assailant drove him back. The Hell Pixie swung back his other fist and Harry hurriedly brought up his other hand to catch it before it could inflict damage to his face.
"Ginny—run!"
"I'm a little preoccupied, Harry!" she yelled, ducking out of the way of a flash of red light from her opponent's wand. She whipped out her wand and shouted, "STUPIFY!"
As if in slow motion, she watched her opponent fall to the ground. Grinning victoriously, she turned to Harry, the smile immediately being replaced with a grimace of horror as she watched another Hell Pixie latch himself onto Harry.
"Ginny—RUN!"
"HARRY!"
There was the unmistakable pop as Harry and his two assailants disappeared into the unknown.
/././././
Diagon Alley
3:32 pm
George was stalking Angelina Johnson. Well, he didn't call it stalking. He called it observing-then-ducking-out-of-sight-when-hot-chick-looks-around-suspiciously.
He followed her into the Leaky Cauldron—inconspicuous, of course—and sat at a table a few feet away from her.
Whistling innocently, he ordered a Butterbeer, watching her out of the corner of his eye.
"George Weasley, is that you?"
George looked up, startled, and found himself staring into the dark blue eyes of Alicia Spinnet.
"Oh, hey, Alicia!"
"And Angelina? I haven't seen you guys since—well—the war."
Angelina looked up at the sound of her name and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at George. But she came over anyway and sat next to him and Alicia.
"What have you two been up too? Well, obviously George has been working at his joke shop—"
"Actually, Alicia, we're joining another war."
"What?" she said, eyes the size of dinner plates. "There's another one? Why wasn't I informed of this?"
"You were busy being a healer," said Angelina, shrugging.
"I still would've liked to be involved! I could be your personal healer, or something."
"Talk to Kingsley Shacklebot—"
"The Minister? Of Magic?"
"The one and only," said George, winking flirtatiously at her. Angelina scowled at him. "What?"
"Nothing," she said coldly.
George raised his eyebrows, but his heart gave a strange flutter at Angelina's apparent jealousy.
"What are you doing here anyway, George?" Angelina asked nonchalantly, her eyes darting from his to the cup of Butterbeer in her hand.
Alicia waved over the bartender and ordered her own drink, choosing to act oblivious to the tension between her two friends.
"I—uh—needed a drink."
"Mmm hmm?"
"I wasn't stalking you!" he blurted out.
Angelina's eyes widened in shock. "You were stalking me?"
"No, I said I wasn't stalking you—"
"But you said it quickly, meaning you were stalking me."
"I—well—er—not—"
"Why were you stalking me, George?" she asked, smiling now.
"Dinner!" he shouted. "I WANT TO HAVE DINNER WITH YOU!"
"Guys, not to interrupt this carefully planned proposal of dinner, but do you hear something?" Alicia asked.
"Hear what?"
"Ticking."
"Ticking—?"
Simultaneously, the three turned to look behind them at the bar, where the sound was coming from.
George's eyes widened and he jumped over the table, knocking the two girls to the floor and shielding them, just as a huge explosion ripped through the air.
/././././
Fred's P.O.V.
Weasley Wizard Wheezes
3:38 pm
Everyone heard—more like felt—the explosion. I jumped down off the ladder I was on and while I ran toward the front doors of the shop I was tearing off my worker's smock.
Lee jogged up next to me and together we joined the throng flooding onto the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. My eyes widened in shock at the sight of fire billowing out of the busted windows of the Leaky Cauldron. Smoke was everywhere, casting Diagon Alley into the dark. As we watched, Ministry officials apparated to the scene, trying to contain the fire with their wands.
"Come on, Lee! They need our help!"
But before we could move, two soot-covered females I knew came running towards us, terror written on their faces.
"Fred!" Angelina cried, as she threw her arms around me and broke down into sobs. Alicia also threw her arms around me.
"You guys were in there—?"
"Fred!" Angelina choked again. "It's George!"
My heart sank right down to my feet. "George?" I repeated weakly.
She leaned back, nodding, her tear-filled eyes bearing into mine. "He's gone!"
"D-dead?" I sputtered.
Angelina shook her head violently. "No! Just . . . gone."
And then it began to rain.
/././././
At the Burrow:
3:42 pm
It was raining and Molly was becoming increasingly more worried. Just moments before, the hands on her clock that read Harry and George had suddenly landed on Mortal Peril. She watched with bated breath as they briefly landed on traveling before once more returning to Mortal Peril.
As if in a dream, she set down the clock, staring out the rain-washed window.
Just then, Hermione came down the stairs, a book in her hand.
"Good Morning, Mrs. Weasley—" she fell silent upon seeing her wrought face. "What's the matter?"
Wordlessly, Molly showed her the clock.
Hermione took the clock into her hands, staring silently at it. She gave a small gasp as the hand that read Fred landed on traveling, and steadily watched its progress around the clock until it landed on Home.
The fireplace erupted with green flames and Hermione whirled around and watched Fred step out of the fireplace.
"George!" he choked.
Hermione, shocked to see his tear-stained face, rushed forward.
"Fred, what happened?"
"An explosion—Leaky Cauldron—George!"
Molly stood up from the table, her eyes wide and fearful. "Fred, tell us what happened!"
They helped him into a seat at the table. He buried his face in his hands. Hermione rubbed his back soothingly.
"There was an explosion—I don't know how it happened exactly—but apparently George was there with Angelina and Alicia when it happened. The girls are all right, but George—" he stopped, looking pained.
Molly's hands flew to her ears. "No. Don't say it! Don't say it!"
"He's not dead, Mum," he said quietly. "At least, not that we know of."
"What do you mean, Fred?" Hermione asked quietly.
"He's just gone, Hermione. Angelina—after she calmed down—told me that George somehow knew what was going to happen, right before the bomb went off. He threw himself over the table and shielded her and Alicia from the explosion. She told me they were knocked unconscious, and when they came to, the building was on fire and George was gone. No body . . . no anything."
Before either Hermione or Molly could react, the fire roared to life again and Ginny appeared, hair wild and eyes blood shot.
"Mum!" she cried. "Harry's been taken!"
"Taken?" Hermione and Mrs. Weasley asked at the same time.
"Yes! We were attacked! Hell Pixies!"
"What's with all the yelling?!" Ron roared, pounding down the stairs and announcing his existence to the world.
Fred jumped up from the table, pulling out his wand and pointing it right between Ron's eyes, all so fast no one had time to blink.
"Shut up, Ron!"
"Fred!" Hermione shouted, grabbing his arm. "It's okay!"
He relaxed at her touch and slowly lowered his wand.
"What's happened?" Ron asked, noticing the seriousness of the situation. "Where's Harry?"
They all looked at Ginny. She opened her mouth to speak, when suddenly a large groan made them all start.
Ginny suddenly blushed. "Sorry. I forgot about my new friend."
They all watched in amazement as she hurried back to the fireplace and reached into the still-glowing flames. She groped for something and then yanked hard.
A full grown man fell through the fireplace, hands and feet bound and taped across the mouth.
"Mum, Fred, Hermione, I'd like you to meet Mr. Brooks."
And there, right in front of them, was the same lanky boy who had broken into Fred and George's shop. He looked around at them all wildly.
"Ginny! What have you done?" cried Mrs. Weasley.
"Harry and I were in the park when we were ambushed by three goons, one of which, is right here," she kicked Brooks for emphasis. "While Harry was being attacked by two of them, I got this disgrace."
Brooks shot her a glare.
"I questioned him, but he wouldn't break."
"Why'd you question him?" Fred asked.
Ginny frowned at him. "To find out where they took Harry, of course. The same guys probably got George, too."
"Well, in that case!" said Fred, seizing Brooks by the front of his jacket. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER, YOU SON OF CENTAUR?!"
Brooks pointed at his taped mouth, rolling his eyes.
Fred ripped it off violently and everyone gathered winced. Brooks's face turned very red as he held in a scream of pain.
"Now, talk!"
"I can't," said Brooks calmly. "It's not my choice."
"What do you mean it's not your choice?" Fred demanded. "Tell us!"
"I told you. I can't. Trogart forbids—"
"Who's Trogart?" asked Hermione.
Brooks looked at her in disbelief. "You don't know who Trogart is? He's the living devil, is what he is!"
Hermione smirked. "Nope. Never heard of him."
Brooks whistled. "Dang. Maybe he's not as popular as he'd like us all to believe."
"Is . . . is he the Dark Knight?" Ginny asked, eyes wide.
"As a matter o' fact, he is," said Brooks, wincing as if he was remembering something painful. He looked at Fred. "D'you mind puttin' me down, mate?"
Fred, who still held him up by the collar, put him down on the floor, grumbling.
"So," said Brooks, rubbing his hands together. "Yous interested in findin' your friends—"
"Yes," Fred said kindly, "and obviously, you can't help us. So we're going to have to kill you."
He—along with Ginny, Hermione, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley—pointed their wands at Brooks, who was warming his hands on the fire. He casually turned to face them and to warm his back side. He smiled.
"Why's that?"
"Because we can't have you running off to Lord Dryfart and telling him where we live. Now can we?" Fred asked venomously.
Brooks grinned. "Dryfart. Good one."
"Stop distracting me from wanting to kill you!" snapped Fred. "I poke you with my stick!"
"Oh, yeah," said Hermione sarcastically and rolling her eyes, "that was very intimidating, Fred."
"I agree with her," said Brooks, gesturing towards Hermione.
"Give us a reason not to kill you," said Ginny.
"I may not be able to tell you where your friends are—for I was sworn to secrecy—but I can show you."
/././././
The Dark Knight's Lair
3:42 PM
"You know, Harry? Being kidnapped isn't all it's cracked up to be," said George, feeling lightheaded as all the blood rushed to his brain.
"No? What gives you that idea?" said Harry sarcastically, desperately trying to keep his glasses from sliding off his sweaty nose. "What could possibly be more entertaining than being hung upside down above a boiling vat of acid?"
"You've got a point there," said George, looking down at the bubbling cauldron that was steadily growing larger as they were lowered down. "Well, to past the time, do you want to play 'I Spy'?"
"No, I don't want to play 'I Spy'!" Harry snapped.
"I spy, with my little eye . . . something . . . green!"
"I'm not playing, George!"
"Something green!" he insisted, rocking back and forth impatiently. Harry's head was jostled as they swung dangerously above the vat of acid, the chain tied around them cutting into his skin. "Come on, Harry! Something green."
Harry sighed. "The acid."
"How'd you know?!"
"It's the only thing green for miles."
"My shirt's green!" George pointed out.
Harry rolled his eyes. "I sorta have my back to you, George."
This was true, for Harry and George were tied back to back and were hanging above a boiling vat of acid.
"Good point. Your turn, Harry!"
"Will you shut up if I play?"
"No promises!"
"I just rolled my eyes at you, George."
"Har-ry!" he whined.
"Fine! I spy with my little eye something black!"
"That's too easy!" George complained. "Everything's black in here!"
"Exactly. This is stupid."
"Then let's play 'Would you Rather'."
"Let's not."
"Would you rather . . . have sex with Professor Sprout or marry Rita Skeeter?"
"What kind of question is that?" Harry demanded. "That's disgusting!"
"Well? What would you rather do?"
"Neither!" said Harry, shuddering.
"Answer, Harry! Answer! It is your destiny!"
"No."
"Yes!"
"No!"
"Please?"
"NO!"
"Pretty please with a cherry on top, accompanied by banana pieces, sprinkles, chocolate syrup, nuts—"
Harry sighed. "Will you shut up if I answer?"
"Maybeeeee!"
Harry groaned. "Well, if I married Rita Skeeter, I couldn't marry Ginny, but if I had—intimate reaction—with Sprout, I'd be emotionally scarred for life."
"So which would it be?" George asked.
"Can I divorce Rita?"
"Nope!" said George happily.
"Then I'd probably—as gross as it is—do the other thing."
George howled with laughter, but was abruptly cut off as their chain jerked violently lower and they now felt the heat emitting off of the acid. It smelt—oddly—like baby powder.
"My turn," said Harry, completely ignoring the noxious fumes coming off of the cauldron. "Would you rather . . . eat dog poo or kiss Ron?"
"Easy. Eat dog poo."
"You must really hate Ron."
"Nah. I just really like dog poo."
Harry began to gag and George roared with laughter.
"So . . . are we going to, like, die?" said George as he felt the tips of his hair singe.
"Seems like it," said Harry, who never had been thankful for being shorter than any Weasley male, but was now very glad of it.
His glasses slipped off his face and he watched in horror as they splashed into the cauldron and immediately melted into the acid.
"Hey—I can see!" he shouted.
"What?" said George.
"I can see perfectly clear!"
"Really?" said George, sounding not-at-all interested.
"Yeah! How strange—" he suddenly sneezed, causing their chain to wobble dangerously. George felt his ears being to ring painfully loud and he suddenly shouted, "Harry! We're about to fall!"
Harry sneezed again and George looked up in horror as their metal chain broke clean in half at the force and they fell towards the bubbling acid—
"LEAN LEFT!" George roared, kicking his feet and causing himself and Harry to change direction. They hit the side of the cauldron, causing it to rock dangerously and slop acid over the side. Harry landed on the rough stone floor and fell flat on his face, George on top of him, legs twitching like a cockroach flipped onto its back.
"Can't—breathe!" Harry's muffled voice said from beneath George.
"Sorry, mate. I can't exactly get up!" said George, struggling to kick himself up karate style. "We're sort of tied together."
Harry sneezed violently again and they shot up into the air and landed painfully on their sides a few feet away.
"What the !#$ was that?" George shouted.
"I don't—ACHOOO!"
They rocketed up into the air and collided with the side of the cavern wall, George's face being smacked against the rough stone. Harry regained his footing and George stepped away from the wall, feeling his cheek aching painfully from the collision. Since he was taller than Harry, Harry's feet now dangled a few inches above the ground and George was forced to carry his weight.
"Now, how do we get out of here?" George asked him.
"I think we should first try to get out of these chains. Do you have your wand, by any chance?"
"Nope. How about you just power sneeze again and create an exit?"
"Haha. Very funny, George. A-a-a—"
George, sensing it coming, slammed Harry against the wall, just as he sneezed violently. The force of his nasal power blasted a hole into the wall.
"Merlin, Harry! I wasn't serious about the 'creating an exit' thing! But looks like you've attained a super power!"
"Thanks," he replied thickly. "I think my nose is broken now."
"Sorry."
"That's okay, just get us out of here."
George looked into the man-size hole in the wall. "I think you made a door into a secret passageway. Huh. That's convenient."
"Where does it lead?"
"I don't know, but it looks like our best bet."
"Forward march, then," said Harry, sounding like his nose was clogged.
George found that the ringing in his ears had returned as they traveled down the passageway. The path suddenly forked, with two paths, one going left, the other right.
"Hold it! My Pixie Senses are tingling!" he said, holding up a hand and listening hard. He gestured down the left path, forgetting the fact Harry was tied behind him and couldn't see, "Hell Pixies are that way. We need to go right."
"Whatever," said Harry discouragingly.
George wondered how he and Harry had attained these new gifts.
/./././././
Somewhere Fred Has Never Been
9:43 pm
Fred's P.O.V.
"Here we are, gents!" Brooks yelled over the howling of the wind. Ron and I shivered as the sea spray smacked us in the face.
"TROGART'S DOWN THERE?" I howled over the crushing of the waves down below us, pointing at a dark cave entrance completely flooded by water.
"Did you expect it to be a walk in the park?" Brooks sneered.
"I DIDN'T THINK WE HAD TO FLY THROUGH A TROPICAL STORM!" Ron snarled, stumbling as the wind blew harder, nearly sending us toppling off of the outcrop of rock and into the ferocious ocean.
We had spent all day with Brooks, and he proved not to be such a bad guy—evil, bloodthirsty, and cruel, yes—but at least he made me laugh.
After much persuasion he finally agreed to help us find Harry and George, in exchange for protection against Trogart.
"This is as far as I can go!" he screamed over the gale. "If I go in there, it'll trigger an alarm and Hell Pixies will stop you before you take one step!"
"HOW DO WE KNOW WE CAN TRUST YOU?!" Ron demanded.
"You don't!" Brooks said with a malicious grin. "Now off you go!" he said, shoving Ron in the back.
Ron fell off of the rock, screaming bloody murder. Right before he smacked into the ocean he regained his senses and unfurled his wings, the wind sending him rocketing back into the sky. He flapped furiously towards the cave entrance.
"See you later, Fred!" said Brooks, with a little flick of his hand. "Er . . . maybe!" he added ominously.
Before he could push me, I took a running start and dove off the cliff face, snapping open my wings and taking to the sky.
I was really getting good at this flying stuff.
/./././././
Well, that's it for now!
I'll try to get back into the "flow" of things and update soon-er. :D
Don't miss me TOO terribly.
-Indigo