This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter universe, which are trademarked by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership of these characters nor the locations such as Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, etc. that are Rowling's creations. This work also includes Pokemon, which belong to the Pokemon Company, and I again claim no ownership of these characters.
I thank both Rowling and the Pokemon Company for the universes they have created that allows me to do something like this for my own entertainment and, hopefully, the entertainment of the readers.
That night Harry found he could not get to sleep. The conversation with Neville, who'd nodded off mere moments after a disgruntled Daphne finally collected her Gardevoir, had given him doubts that he hadn't let himself feel since the start of the DA. He tilted his head, looking out through a gap in his hangings and out the window towards the moonless night. What chance did they have, really?
The sound of shuffling footsteps drew Harry from his reverie and he frowned. Had one of his dorm mates got up? That seemed highly unlikely and Harry hadn't heard any of the telltale signs of someone getting out of bed. Was somebody else in their dormitory?
Slowly, so as not to make a sound, Harry sat up in bed. He couldn't see out, not without pulling back his hangings and giving himself away, so, on the off chance that this intruder was less than friendly, Harry gently poked Pikachu awake. The little electric type looked annoyed to be disturbed but quickly his ears pricked up and he became alert. Harry held a finger to his lips, commanding quiet, and reached out for the hangings.
He pulled them away in one big swoop.
"Professor?" Professor McGonagall, one of the last people Harry had expected to see, was standing in the middle of the dormitory, looking rather startled to be caught. She recovered quickly though.
"Potter, what are you doing up?" She asked briskly, but quietly.
"Couldn't sleep," Harry told her. "What are you doing here?" McGonagall hesitated. That wasn't a good sign.
"No time to explain, just help me wake up Weasley," McGonagall instructed, pulling the hangings away to reveal Ron sprawled out on his front, drooling onto his pillow. Wartortle was standing at the foot of the bed, looking rather embarrassed.
"Wartortle, use Water Gun," Harry instructed. Normally instructing a Pokémon to attack their trainer wasn't a successful course of action but this wasn't the first time Wartortle had been called upon to wake up his redheaded master. The water hit Ron in the face with practiced precision. He spluttered.
"Weasley, up," McGonagall commanded, stunning Ron speechless as he looked to find his Head of House standing over him. "You must follow me down to the Common Room. Potter, you too. Don't bother with your belongings, we'll work that out later."
No matter what McGonagall said Harry was never going to leave his Pokémon behind. "Pikachu, Talonflame, return." They both disappeared with a flash of red.
Neither Harry nor Ron were much of a morning person, especially Ron, but the strangeness about this morning, and the ridiculously early hour, brought them right to attention. The mystery only deepened further as they made it to the Common Room and found Fred, George and Ginny waiting for them, all three of them looking exhausted.
"What's going on?" Ron asked as he approached.
"Search me," muttered Fred. "McGonagall's not saying anything." That worried Harry.
"This way," Professor McGonagall instructed. "We're going to the Headmaster's office."
If nothing before had convinced Harry that something was seriously wrong then that did. What had happened? Had it something to do with the Legion? But if so why was Hermione not here with them? Had something happened to her? How could it?
He got no answers as he and the Weasleys followed Professor McGonagall down the dark and silent corridors at a brisk pace. Wandering Hogwarts after dark wasn't a completely foreign concept to Harry but to be led by McGonagall heightened the tension. The cameras following their progress through the school did not help matters.
They reached the Headmaster's Office in what seemed like no time and McGonagall rapped her knuckles on the door immediately upon arrival.
"Enter," Dumbledore called from inside and McGonagall swept through, the five students following behind her.
Walking into Dumbledore's office the assorted Weasleys looked around in awe at the incredible room. Harry, much more familiar with it and not so easily distracted, focused his attention on Dumbledore first and foremost. He had a grave look on his face.
"Thank you, Minerva," he said, and even his voice seemed weary. "I'll take it from here." Professor McGonagall nodded swiftly before leaving the room. She was gone as quickly as she'd arrived. Dumbledore let out a long sigh.
"I'm afraid I bare bad news," he told them, and Harry's heart clenched. "There's been an attack. Your father, Arthur Weasley, has been rushed to St Mungo's for emergency care. At the moment that is all I can say about his condition."
It seemed like all warmth had flooded out of the room. Harry felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach, unable to breath, and he could only imagine how the others were taking it. Fred and George looked shellshocked, so unlike their usual selves, and Ginny sank down into a chair, wrapping her arms around her body and looking on the verge of tears. Ron just stared blankly ahead. It was like he wasn't even there.
"I know this is a shock to you and I wish I could give you some good news," Dumbledore said sadly. "Unfortunately, I cannot."
"What happened?" Fred whispered, looking incredibly pale.
"Your father has been poisoned," Dumbledore said and immediately Harry had flashbacks to second year. "And there's been a large amount of blood loss. It could have been worse, had his Quilava not evolved to defend him. As it is Typhlosion was able to fight off the aggressor and raise the alarm, allowing for the timely application of medical services that may very well have saved his life."
The fact that Quilava had evolved to save Mr Weasley didn't seem to hold any comfort to his children. Maybe in years to come it would but with Mr Weasley's life still on the line and no guarantee of his survival there was little to celebrate.
"I've gathered you up now so that I can send you to Grimmauld Place," Dumbledore told them. "Sirius will be waiting for you there and as it is so much closer to St Mungo's I imagine you'd feel more comfortable there than at the Burrow." It was a thoughtful thing to do but Harry wondered just how much of Dumbledore's decision was focused on protecting the remaining Weasleys now that Mr Weasley was gone.
No one responded to Dumbledore's words. It was hard to tell if they'd heard them. Dumbledore, of course, understood and didn't say anything further. He released a Pokémon, Alakazam, into the room, nobody even reacting to the Pokémon's presence, and gave an instruction.
"Please take the students to Number Twelve Grimmauld Place," he said calmly. Alakazam looked at Dumbledore for a moment and then suddenly Dumbledore's office disappeared around them and instead the dark interior of the Black family sitting room took its place, and with it the heir of the Black family.
"Sirius," Harry said, beyond grateful to see him, but he was the only one to acknowledge his presence. The Weasleys were far from lively, though they did seem at least a little taken aback by the sudden teleportation. Ginny in particular seemed to be confused by the fact the chair she'd been sitting on in Dumbledore's office was still lying beneath her. The actions were muted though and the room quickly fell into silence.
The hours that followed were some of the most painful that Harry had ever endured. They all stayed awake by common agreement, waiting for news, but the fact that they'd had so little sleep meant that was easier said than done. Ginny appeared to nod off several times before jerking awake in her chair, steadfastly refusing to be shown to a bed where she could rest properly. The twins, meanwhile, stemmed the wave of tiredness by pacing periodically, not talking at all. Ron hadn't moved a muscle.
The first sign of movement came later that morning. A sharp wrap on the door caught their attention, Sirius jumping to his feet and hurrying down the stairs. There were a few more knocks in sequence, a different one than Harry remembered when he'd first been introduced to the property, and then the door opened and closed soon after. A pair of footsteps walked up the stairs, low voices murmuring to each other, before the owners appeared on the landing.
It had been Remus who had come to the door, looking just as tired as the rest of them, if not more so. He walked into the room with the air of a man who just wanted to lie down but settled for the sofa before turning to the Weasleys.
"I've just come from the hospital," he told them. They listened intently. "Your father is in very bad condition but he is stable. Hopefully that means the healers can focus on his recovery and he'll be able to return to normal in due time."
"When can we see him?" Fred asked.
"Not yet," Remus responded. "Arthur is far from being able to accept visitors. He is, as a matter of fact, being kept unconscious for the time being so the healers can work without your father feeling pain." Ginny let out a small sound that sounded like a squeak. She looked absolutely terrified.
"Your mother is staying over at St Mungo's," Remus continued. "She sent me here to make sure you all got some food and rest."
"We're not tired," George argued, though his point was negated by the heavy bags under his eyes.
"Of course you are, you're exhausted," Remus told him calmly. "We all are. I know you are all worried but you must understand that there is nothing you can do to help your father right now. The only thing you can do is look after yourself. It's what he'd want you to do." The Weasleys exchanged worried glances.
"I'm going to make some breakfast," Remus told them. "I've got some groceries downstairs. And once you've eaten that, all of it, you must all go to bed. I'll stay up with Sirius and will tell you if there is any news."
It was a good thing that Remus was there, Harry thought as the group trudged down towards the kitchen. Having been their teacher he knew how to get them to do what was best for them, even if they didn't want to do it.
Breakfast was quiet, as expected, but at least some food was consumed, if not a lot. Remus made sure to stand by the stove and fix pointed looks on the red headed members of the group whenever they looked like they'd stop and without fail the students would take another bite or two. Eventually, once Remus was satisfied they'd all eaten enough, he sent them off to bed.
Despite their worry they didn't put up a fight. Harry doubted they had the energy left to do so. Certainly in Harry's case he was out like a light the moment his head touched the pillows and he didn't wake up for a long time.
That evening was a long one. Around dinner time the now rested students started to rouse themselves and so Remus cooked up a hearty meal before excusing himself to a spare bedroom. It occurred to Harry that Remus may not have slept for over thirty-six hours. In the meantime Sirius took charge, chiding the children for not putting enough food on their plates, doing a passable impression of Molly Weasley, and halfway through the meal he was forced to get up and open the front door.
"Get some sleep, Sirius," Mad Eye Moody grunted as he limped past him and into the kitchen. "I'll take the night shift." Following silently behind him was Hermione, looking pale and nervous and looking even worse when she saw the unresponsive Weasleys. She'd clearly heard what had happened.
"Come on Weasleys, eat," Moody demanded. It wasn't the gentle approach taken by Remus and Sirius, and probably wasn't particularly appropriate given the situation, but at least it was effective. Even in their own horrifying thoughts they were still scared of Mad-Eye.
Hermione took her seat next to Harry and gave him a worried look. Harry just gave a grimace in return, discretely patting her on the knee under the table. It would be awhile before things would return to normal, if they ever did.
Mrs Weasley did not make an appearance at the house. She stayed the night at St Mungo's.
It wasn't until the next morning that things started to feel slightly more normal, and Harry was not going to miss that the reason for that was the lack of Weasleys present.
Harry was used to Ron sleeping in until he absolutely had to get up, and without his mum around to force the issue he should have predicted this would happen, but Ron showed absolutely no signs of getting out of bed, despite being wide awake. And he didn't appear to be the only one.
Harry found the rest of the active members of the house, barring Moody, who'd left at the crack of dawn, down in the kitchen, and there was not a red hair in sight.
"Morning, Harry," Sirius greeted, his hair all over the place like a particularly shaggy breed of dog. Sirius was not a morning person.
"Morning," Harry muttered in return, sitting down and reaching for a slice of toast. "What are we talking about?" He'd meant it as a general query but quickly he realised he'd walked in midway through a very serious conversation.
"The breakout, at Azkaban," Hermione responded. "I was trying to see what the Legion knew of it."
"It was an outside job, that's for sure," Sirius told him.
"How do we know?" Asked Harry.
"We've got a man on the inside."
"Kingsley was called in for the investigation," Remus explained. "As he's the lead on the case to catch Sirius he is uniquely qualified to deal with an Azkaban breakout. Anyway, he reported that all the cell doors were blown in, not out. Somebody went into Azkaban and freed the prisoners, and I think we can all guess who."
"How bad is it?" Harry wondered. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look.
"Depends on how crazy the Death Eaters have become," Sirius told him. "Azkaban is a terrible place Harry, it drives you mad, and those lot have been in there since the end of the war. And most of them were mad to begin with."
"It appears likely that none of the ones taken were too far gone," said Remus carefully. "Voldemort would never waste his time with a useless servant, no matter how loyal they had been in the past."
The sound of something slipping through the letter box drifted through the house.
"Is it normal to get mail?" Hermione asked worriedly, glancing towards the kitchen door.
"Some mail," said Sirius. "Just give it a minute." A moment later Sirius's Mightyena, his loyal companion, appeared at the top of the stairs leading down to the kitchen, a newspaper rolled up in his mouth.
"The Black family have a subscription to the Daily Prophet," Sirius told them as he accepted the paper from Mightyena, rubbing the Pokémon on the head as he did so. "The subscription charge comes straight from the Gringotts account so no one questions it. They think they're ripping us off and are happy to let it happen. You should have seen when I first entered this place. Could barely get the door open they'd piled up so much. They were decomposing too." Sirius made a face. "And guess what's front page news." He dropped the paper on the table.
The picture of Arthur Weasley, spread eagle on the ground with healers gathered around him, blocking him mostly from view, was still a terrible sight. Even in black and white you could still make out the pools of blood lying around him.
"Good thing he was reaching the end of his shift," Sirius said grimly. "If Sturgis hadn't been on his way he might not have been found for hours." Harry frowned.
"What was he doing?" He asked. "Was this guard duty, like you mentioned over the summer?" Sirius grimaced.
"Sorry, can't really tell you that," he admitted. He might as well have just said yes. It was telling. Arthur Weasley had been on guard duty that night, which meant that the attack was almost certainly Voldemort, trying to get whatever it was the Legion was guarding. Remembering that Mr Weasley had been poisoned made Harry shiver. Had he come face to face with Nagini? If he had he was lucky to be alive.
The rest of breakfast passed without much mention of Voldemort or his Death Eaters or even Mr Weasley. Instead it revolved around school work, talking about which Pokémon Hagrid had shown them in the last Pokémon Care class (a Snover), and what they thought of Slowbro's rather unusual Mega Evolution.
All through this time Remus read the paper and Harry and Hermione, sitting across the table, tried not to look. The picture of Mr Weasley, lying bloodied on the ground, was clearly visible from where they were sitting.
Eventually, much to their relief, Remus put the paper down, looking up at the kitchen door with a frown. "Are they not up yet?"
Harry and Hermione shared a look.
"They're up," Harry said. "Ron's been awake for hours. I just don't think he wants to come down." Judging by the look on Hermione's face Ginny had been the same. Fred and George too, most likely. Remus sighed.
"I guess that's to be expected," he said sadly. "This is a terrible thing to have to go through." Sirius reached over, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.
"I'll go up and see if anyone wants something to eat," said Hermione, standing up from her chair.
"I'll go with you," Harry said hurriedly, wiping crumbs from his lap. "Remus, can I borrow the Prophet?"
"Certainly," Remus said calmly, rolling it up and handing it over. Sirius looked aghast.
"The Prophet?" He gaped. "Harry, are you reading the Prophet… for pleasure?" Despite himself Harry laughed.
"No, I just want to see what else they have to say about what happened," Harry told him. "Is there anything more on the Azkaban breakouts?" Remus shook his head.
"There's not been any new information all week," Remus told him. "They've got a small section telling you how to get in touch if you see any of the prisoners but there's been no sightings. I doubt we'll get anything more until Voldemort shows himself." Harry nodded. It seemed likely.
"Harry," Remus stopped him short. "Don't let any of the Weasleys see that front page. It would be quite devastating, I assure you."
Harry left the kitchen, following after Hermione, who waited impatiently for him at the top of the stairs.
"What are you up to, Harry?" She questioned in a hushed voice. "I'd recognise that look anywhere. What's going on?" Harry didn't bother trying to argue. He simply unrolled the newspaper. Mr Weasley's body lay open in his hands.
"Do you know where this is?" He asked, showing the picture to Hermione. She looked sick just looking at it and shook her head. "Well, it's in the Ministry, that's what the article says. But Sirius said… well, he didn't say but it was heavily implied that Mr Weasley was on guard duty. Sturgis was about to relieve him."
"So?" Hermione asked.
"So, whatever it is the Legion are trying to guard is actually in the Ministry itself," Harry pointed out, his voice rising slightly in his excitement. "It's here, somewhere past this corridor that Mr Weasley was attacked in."
"I get that, Harry, really, but what difference does that make," Hermione said. "It's not like knowing where this supposed weapon is will help us."
"But don't you get it," Harry said urgently. "If it's in the Ministry then it must be already protected. If Dumbledore is arranging a watch - and Mr Weasley is hardly the most ferocious of guards to be alone on duty - then that must mean that he doesn't trust the security the Ministry have on the item."
"Which just means the Ministry security is lax," said Hermione. "They don't believe You-know-who's back, of course Dumbledore is more concerned than they are."
"But they know ten Death Eaters have escaped," Harry continued. "And they think there's an eleventh that's been at large for over two years now."
"So what's your point?" Hermione asked.
"My point is that perhaps this weapon isn't so… obviously powerful," said Harry. "Maybe it is something that only Voldemort would be able to properly use, or maybe Dumbledore's the only one who understands how powerful it is. He's still left behind a guard, even after they'll have people beefing up security at the Ministry because of the attack, Mad-Eye left this morning."
"What's going on?"
They'd reached the first floor landing by this time and their discussion had gotten heated, so much so that it could be heard in the rooms coming off from the landing, one of them being the room Harry and Ron were staying in.
"Nothing," Hermione said quickly, trying to look innocent. Ron rolled his eyes. It was the most Ron-like thing he'd done since they'd arrived.
"I know something's up," he said frankly, standing in the doorway with the door held half closed behind him. "I know when Harry's on to something. What is it?"
Harry and Hermione shared a look.
"Let's go inside," Harry suggested. While Ron seemed to be acting more himself and he might actually return to normal somewhat when exposed to their usual level of drama Fred, George and Ginny, should they dare venture out of their rooms, probably wouldn't.
"What's this about?" Ron asked, sitting down on his bed. Arcanine immediately nuzzled up next to him and Harry realised just what had prompted Ron's recovery.
"They've reported about what happened to your dad," Harry said quietly. Ron's muscles tensed. Arcanine let out a whine.
"Is it bad?" Ron asked eventually. Harry nodded.
"He was found in the Ministry," he said. "But I don't think he was working, I think he was on guard duty for whatever it is the Legion are hiding from Voldemort."
"The problem is neither of us can be sure," Hermione admitted. "There's a picture showing where your dad was found but neither of us know the Ministry well enough to tell if anything was weird."
"And we can't ask Sirius and Remus," Harry added. "They're not allowed to say anything about what they're guarding." Ron nodded thoughtfully.
"Dad's taken me into the Ministry before," he told them. "I know what his office looks like and some other places. Can I see the picture?" Harry and Hermione hesitated.
"I don't think you should," Hermione said carefully. "It's not particularly nice to look at." Ron considered Hermione and swallowed hard before turning to Harry. He held out his hand.
Against his will Harry passed the paper over to Ron, wishing he could just say no. But like him Ron could not stay away from a mystery and even if his father's life was hanging in the balance what was being kept in the Ministry and what Mr Weasley had been hurt protecting was important to him.
He stared at the picture for several moments.
"I don't recognise this place," he told them, not raising his head. "It's not dad's office, and not the auror department either - you have to go through there to get to dad's place."
"So you don't recognise it?" Hermione said disappointedly.
Ron shook his head. "No," he said dully. "I've never seen it before."