Chapter Eleven: Hagrid's Treehouse

Hagrid opened a trapdoor and used a pulley system to fold up a ladder. Ivy covered his tree house that rested on platforms running across three oaks, making it invisible from the forest floor, even though it was big since Hagrid was a half giant. The smell of roast werewolf drifted through the Forbidden Forest, up to them.

"That'll be the Midwinter feast," Hagrid told them. "The werewolves are celebrating. Kill one of their own and roast him over a spit once a year near Christmas. Best stay out of the forest, today."

Bill, Charlie, Fred and George shared a hut at the top of the middle tree, with their own rope down to the forest.

"I'd like to see those werewolves for myself," said Charlie, looking out the window at the snow.

"Mum'll kill you if you go out today," said Bill, glancing up from his book.

"Werewolves, werewolves!" sang Fred and George, jumping off Hagrid's furniture. George smacked onto the ground. "Being stuck in a treehouse in the middle of winter is boring," he said, rubbing a kneecap.

"Let's make up werewolf names and be werewolves," said Fred. "My name is Wagtail." He bit Hagrid's sofa.

Charlie leapt onto it. "Who wants to sneak out and see the werewolves?"

Bill unhooked a lantern. "Be glad Percy's not here to tattle," he said. "Let's be off."

They all raced to their rope at the same time, crashing into each other. Luckily Molly was laying down with a headache, and did not hear them fighting over who was going down the rope first.

Soon the boys sat inside a snow fort in the Forbidden Forest that reached about the height of a lamp post.

"Well, that didn't last long," said Charlie, poking a bonfire they had started.

Bill massaged a bite mark. "We may not be able to get up close to the werewolves, but I like our fort," he said.

"I don't want to go back to the treehouse," said Fred. "Living fancy free with the werewolves is great!" He roasted a squirrel they had trapped. "No rules, no accountability. And no school!"

"I say we live here forever," said George.

Bill and Charlie looked at each other and nodded.

A werewolf howled. Hagrid scowled toward their fort, but said nothing. A few hours later he said: "Maybe you ought to check on them, Molly. Make sure they're not killing too many animals."

"They're just squirrels, Hagrid," said Molly. "I'm more concerned about the boys being eaten. I really didn't want them in the forest while the werewolves are wild." But by the time she went out to convince them to come back, they had already built a network of igloos.

The Burrow's door hung open. Arthur tiptoed inside and took Ron's shirt out from a cushion it had been stuffed inside, before sitting in his favourite armchair, surveying the room and massaging his bandaged hand, resting before going to Hogwarts.

Their house appeared strangely small without children, and dirty. He had not paid attention before. His elbow grew cold and he leapt up. The armrest had just been covered in frost.

A skeletal hand reached to grip the door frame, and a hooded dementor came through, black cloak billowing in the blizzard. The Weasleys' lifetime accumulation of possessions turned to ice, from dust and dirt to every book.

A plump figure wearing a nun's habit tapped on a window. "Hurry and get out!" she called in a whisper. "I've seen your son!"

The dementor had not sensed Arthur yet, so moving seemed a bad idea. But Arthur had no choice. He crawled behind and underneath possessions to slip through the front door past it.

The round-faced nun had a lilting voice. "He's quite a lad, your boy, isn't he? Knows what he wants, and isn't afraid to go get it." She was transparent and hovered above the ground.

"Excuse me. Who are you?" asked Arthur.

"I am Sister Arianna, Albus's sister."

"Oh, I didn't realise he had one. A Sister and a sister. Well, Percy certainly wants to be headmaster, I know that. He wanted an apprenticeship, but of course, with the way things are now..."

"Ah, to be sure, it's not a good time to be a young wizard," agreed the nun. "But that's not why he came back to Hogwarts, you know."

"So he's there? I thought he had been captured, or - or killed."

"Unfortunately Arthur, he was captured yesterday."

Arthur groaned. "How?"

"Well, now, it would seem young Percy has a girlfriend."

"Does he?"

"Yes indeed. Penelope Clearwater is her name. I'm sure she's a nice lass, Arthur," Sister Arianna assured him, since he had rolled his eyes.

"Penelope Clearwater. Oh, goodness."

"It seems Percy went to Hogwarts because they had a secret appointment at the chapel to be married."

"Married? I don't believe it!"

"You shouldn't," said the ghost. "Because they did not get married. Death Eaters showed up; they did not like a pureblood from a noble family marrying a blood traitor Weasley. They stormed the chapel and took Percy away."

"Where have they taken him?" asked Arthur.

"Well," said Sister Arianna, "I was in the chapel myself for the wedding. I love praying in that chapel. The Death Eater that had hold of Percy strode right through me, so I heard his thoughts. He was taking your boy to Azkaban Prison; to the Dark Lord, no less. I am sorry to be telling you this, Arthur." The nun put a transparent hand to a rosary hanging from her cassock.

Arthur made the sign of the cross. "Percy is in the hands of the Dark Lord! How will I break it to Molly?"