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Thanks to Cat Attack 411 and Ran Okami-Gun for reviewing!
Chapter 14:
"Grimmauld Place"
I was examining a dim fire that was burning inside of a boiler, when I heard someone speaking.
"Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying…?" said a croaky, trembling voice.
"OUT!" yelled a second voice, this one the voice of a man.
I looked to the speakers, still trying to steady myself. The humans were plucking themselves from the ground, shaking their heads dizzily. I found the second voice, an unshaven man with scraggly black hair, who was helping Ginny up from the ground. The first voice seemed to have left the room at the man's prompting.
"What's going on?" he asked, looking at each of us, his eyes pausing on me for a moment. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured–"
"Ask Harry," said Fred.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," George added.
"It was–"Harry said nervously. "I had a –a kind of –vision…"
Harry continued sputtering out his story of visions and snakes. His dreams reminded me of Harkat's nightmares of the future world, except Harry's visions were of the present. When he finished, the Weasleys simply stared at him, their faces white with horror. I had seen worse, so Harry's tale didn't even make me blink.
"Is Mum here?" Fred asked the man.
"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," the man replied. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."
"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny said urgently. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything–?"
"Hang on," said the man named Sirius, "you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!"
"Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," argued Fred. "He's our dad!"
"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"
"What does that matter?" said George angrily.
"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" Sirius shouted back. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"
Ginny responded with, "Somebody could have told us… We could of heard it somewhere other than Harry.
"Like who?" Sirius responded impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been injured while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's–"
"We don't care about the dumb Order!" Fred shouted.
"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" added George.
"Wait," I said, interrupting the shout-fest. "Can somebody please explain to me what's going on? What is this Order you lot keep mentioning?"
Fred looked at me and seemed to calm a bit.
"Sorry Darren…" he said abashedly. "I forgot you don't know where we are, what's going on…"
"The Order of the Phoenix," Sirius explained, "is a top secret group of witches and wizards against Voldemort. This house –Grimmauld Place- is base. We brought you all here, because it is one of the safest places you could be right now."
"Thanks," I said, a bit relieved.
"No problem," said Sirius. "Come on, let's all… let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer."
Seven bottles flew from a door adjacent to the kitchen. They each skidded to stop in front of a different person. We all drank the sweet drink. The room was silent, except for the low crackling of the fire and the sloshing of the butterbeers being placed upon the table. The silence was broken as a burst of fire appeared in midair. Cries of shock flew up as a roll of parchment and a feather fell onto the table.
"Fawkes!" Sirius shouted, as he snatched up the parchment and unrolled it. "That's not Dumbledore's writing –it must be a message form your mother –here–"
He gave the letter to George, who read the message aloud, "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum"
"Still alive…" George said slowly. "But that makes it sound…"
He left his sentence unfinished, but we all knew the ending. If he was in a bad enough condition to be considered 'still alive'… that meant he could die at any moment… We sat through that night in silence, the candle on the table flickering ominously. Sirius suggested that we go to bed, but no one moved. Fred had slumped forward, leaning on the table. George was staring blankly at the candle, hardly blinking. Ginny curled up in her chair, staring at the fire with glazed eyes. Ron held his head with his hands, breathing deeply. Sirius, Harry, and I sat wide awake, glancing at each other every so often. We waited through the night, whether for good news or bad, we weren't sure.
Around five in the morning, a woman burst through the doors. Judging by her red hair and tired eyes, she must be the Weasley children's mother. The twins and Harry started to rise from their chairs, but froze when they saw her tired smile.
"He's going to be all right," she said, in a weak but warm voice. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."
There were a few shaky laughs, and Ginny ran to hug her mother.
"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"
Who –or what- ever Kreacher was, did not come.
"Oh forget it, then," he muttered. He counted the people at the table and said, "So it's breakfast for –let's see –eight… Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast–"
Harry stood up to help Sirius. I just lay my head on the table, glad that Mr. Weasley was okay –even though I hadn't met him yet. We had a large breakfast, composed of a wide selection of food. We slept the rest of the morning. I shared a room with the twins, on a dusty old cot they pulled from another room. I woke and found my Hogwarts' trunk at the foot of my bed. Austin's cage was on the dresser, the little bat zooming around his cage. I stood up and opened his cage. He flew gratefully onto my shoulder and let out a screech. The noise woke the twins, who sat up quickly.
"Is it time to go to Mungo's yet?" Fred asked sleepily.
"I think so," I told him. "I heard people moving around earlier."
"Let's get dressed and check it out," suggested George.
We slipped out of our robes and into regular clothes. I wore the outfit I had brought after going through the purge. We made our way into the kitchen, where two new people were waiting for us. They introduced themselves as Mad-eye Moody and Tonks. They were members of the Order and were going to escort us to London. We took the underground to an old fashioned looking department store. A sign with peeling paint labeled the store as, Purge and Dowse Ltd. The stores dusty windows sported ugly dolls, with old fashioned clothing and a sign that said: CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT.
"Right," said Tonks, walking to a window with a raggedy looking doll, whose eyelashes were falling off. "Everybody ready?"
We nodded and she told the dummy, "Wotcher… We're here to see Arthur Weasley.
I was slightly confused. Why on earth are we standing in front of a shabby department store, and why was Tonks talking to a doll? How on earth did she expect it to hear her anyways? The glass on the window had to be half an inch thick. So I was slightly surprised to see the dummy nod and beckon to us. Tonks seized the people nearest to her and stepped through the glass, vanishing. I shouldn't have been surprised. It was just like the platform to get on the school train. I stepped through with Harry and Mad-eye, and arrived in a crowded room. There were scores of wizards sitting on rickety wooden chairs, some of them sporting strange ailments. One witch had a tea-pot spout for a mouth, and would whistle in reply to the questions those around her asked.
"Over here!" called Mrs. Weasley, yelling over the din. We waited in a line, behind a man who was holding his daughter by the ankles, trying to keep her from flying away on her newly sprouted wings. We reached the counter and Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, speaking to the witch manning the desk.
"Hello," she said. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us–?"
"Arthur Weasley?" the lady interrupted, scanning a list on her desk. "Yes, first floor, second door on the right. Dai Llewellyn ward."
"Thank you," Mrs. Weasley told the lady and turned to us. "Come on, you lot."
We followed her through a set of doors into a long corridor, which was lined with portraits. We climbed a flight of stairs, entering the ward for 'Creature-Induced injuries.'
When we reached Mr. Weasley's room, Tonks said, "We'll wait outside Molly. Arthur won't want too many visitors at once… It ought to be just the family first."
Mad-eye growled his agreement and all the non-Weasleys stepped back.
"Don't be silly, Harry," Mrs. Weasley told Harry when she saw him step back, "Arthur wants to thank you…"
He followed her into the room, leaving me with the two adults.
"So, boy," growled Moody. "What's your story?"
"Well," I told him. "Fred and George are close friends of mine, so they invited me to stay for the holidays. I saw Neville running in the halls last night, so I helped him find Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore brought me to his office when he decided to send the Weasleys and Harry to Grimmauld Place."
"So," he said, both eyes on me. "What were you doing outside of bed?"
"Well… um…" I spluttered out. "I like to… explore the castle. Knowing short-cuts comes in handy when you're trying to get to class…"
"Mmm…" he grumbled, ending the conversation.
We waited in silence for several minutes. Then George stuck his head out the door and looked at me.
"Hey Darren," he said. "Dad says he wants to meet you…"
I followed him into the ward, glancing at the various patients. One of them seemed normal, but the other was covered in bandages, and was a light shade of green. Propped up on a set of pillows was the orange haired Mr. Weasley.
"Ah," he said, looking at me. "You must be Darren."
He held out a hand, which I shook enthusiastically.
"Nice firm grip you got there," he said, flexing his fingers.
"Oh… sorry…" I replied lamely.
"That's alright," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "So… Fred and George told me you're a bit of a prankster…"
We had a short conversation, before Mrs. Weasley shooed us out of the room. The other members of the Order stepped into the room as we left. Fred was searching his pockets, as if he had lost something.
"Looking for these?" George said, holding out a tangled, flesh colored mess of string.
"You read my mind," Fred grinned.
They untangled the string and handed each of us an ear with a cable attached to it. These must be the Extendable Ears they had told me about. I put the smaller bit into my ear, and placed the ear shaped microphone near the door and it wiggled its way under it.
"… they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur. But why would You-Know-Who set a snake patrolling…"
"Shh, Tonks," urged Mrs. Weasley.
"I reckon he sent it because it could see under cloaks," said Moody, followed by mummers of agreement.
"You know," said Mrs. Weasley uneasily. "Dumbledore seems to almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this…"
"Yeah, well," replied Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."
"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," Mrs. Weasley whispered.
"Course he's worried," Moody growled. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake… Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what this means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him, there might be future attacks like–"
I pulled my Extendable Ear out, when I saw that Harry was looking distressed. We spent the rest of our visit in silence, the Weasley children taking uneasy glances at Harry. We returned to headquarters and fell asleep, able to rest easy after seeing Mr. Weasley. Harry seemed to be avoiding us, skulking upstairs and refusing meals. Ginny eventually confronted him and convinced him he wasn't possessed, which cheered him up immensely. We spent the next few days putting up Christmas decorations and singing merrily with Sirius.
On Christmas morning, Fred and George woke me with a loud cry of, "PRESENTS!"
I looked to the foot of my bed, where a small pile was waiting for me. I hadn't celebrated Christmas in years –much less gotten presents! Mrs. Weasley had knitted me a sweater and given me a small bag of brightly colored taffy. Hermione had given me a new set of journals –I had mentioned them off-handedly to her once. The twins had gotten me a set off Filibusters Fireworks. Harry had gotten me a book on defensive spells. There was one present that stood out to me. It was a long, thin package, with a small note taped to it. Written in very scraggly hand writing was:
Merry Christmas
-Larten Crepsley
I unwrapped the gift quickly, unveiling a long mahogany handle. Scrawled in golden letters on the handle, were the words, Nimbus 2005. The broomstick looked expensive, and the gift made me want to cry. Mr. Crepsley had always considered Christmas a 'silly human tradition.' The fact that he went out of his way to buy me a gift and write a note (even if it was short) made me miss my mentor deeply.
"Whoa," said George, who had just entered the room. "Who sent you the broomstick?"
"My father," I responded, pulling on the deep blue sweater.
"That color looks nice on you," said Fred, entering the room. "Really brings out your eyes."
"Stuff it," I told him, gathering the wrappers from the top of my bed.
"I wouldn't go downstairs just yet," George warned. "Mum's in tears. Our git of a brother sent back the jumper she made him…"
"Ouch," I said. "Let's go see the others, I want to thank them. By the way; Merry Christmas. Thanks for the fireworks."
"No problem mate. Thanks for the new equipment. We needed it to start working on those new fireworks we want to make. And Merry Christmas."
We went into the other's rooms and warned them of Mrs. Weasley's mood. Harry thanked me for the bag of edible snitches I got him and Hermione was currently flickering through the book on magical creatures I had gotten her. Ron was unwrapping his chocolate frogs, searching for any rare cards he might have hidden in the small pile. We messed around a bit before going downstairs for lunch. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself –the food was incredible! After our meal, we visited St. Mungo's. The trip was pretty uneventful –except for when we saw an ex-DADA teacher, who insisted on signing my arm.
I lay in my bed that night, examining my gifts. I reached for the bag of taffy Mrs. Weasley had gotten me and pulled out one of the brightly colored treats. It was unusual looking –striped with black and orange– but it tasted amazing. I put the rest of the bag away and went to bed, falling asleep almost instantly.
Yay Christmas! Hope you liked this chapter!