Harry didn't fall asleep for
the rest of that night. It wasn't so much fear that kept him awake; more
then likely it was curiosity.
"York saved me in that dream.
I'm positive," Harry kept telling himself. Sunlight began to banish the
shadows in the corners of Ron's room. A rooster crowed loudly in the front
yard, causing Ron to turn over in his bed.
Harry sighed, and glanced over
at the message he'd put next to Ron's pillow. He pondered the thought of
reading it, the sun was bright enough and he'd be able to see, but holding
it in his hand he decided not to, and put it back down.
Slowly, he lifted himself off
the floor and left the room quietly. The Weasley's house was quieter then
Harry had ever heard it. Even the ghoul who lived in the attic seemed to
like the silence, at least for the time being.
With another sigh, Harry crept
down the zig-zag stairs and walked towards the kitchen. For some reason
the kitchen door was closed, but smells coming from under the door caught
Harry's nose, and nearly dragged him inside. Harry paused, and pushed the
door open slowly so he could see what someone was cooking.
York stood there, stirring
pancake batter, but, much to Harry's surprise, she was only two feet high.
Harry had a shocked expression on his face as he pushed the door opened
even more. A twin to the first York stood there, sweeping the floor using
a broom that was much to big for her.
All in all, there were a dozen
two foot high Yorks working all over Mrs. Weasley's kitchen. As Harry took
several steps inside the kitchen, all twelve York's turned and stared at
him.
"Hallo Harry," they all said
in unison. Two of the twelve York's dropped their cleaning supplies and
skipped towards him merrily.
"Please take your seat," the
leader of the two said. They each took one of his hands and pulled him
towards a chair.
A third York appeared on top
of the table. She scampered towards him pretending to be a waitress.
"What would you like this morning,
sir?" she asked politely bowing her head. Harry let out a small laugh at
her obvious sarcasm.
"What do you have?" Harry questioned,
staring at the nine Yorks fussing over their different dishes.
The waitress York clapped her
hands three times. Instantly, they stopped their work and jumped down to
the floor. Slowly, they climbed up to the table top and stood there like
they were on a drill team.
"Food call," the waitress York
said, clapping her hands again. Each other cleared their throats and their
list went down their line. Each food clear and well spoken.
"Raisin bread."
"English muffins."
"Banana bread."
"Orange slices."
"Cereal."
"Yogurt."
"Peanut Butter Sandwiches."
"Pancakes with Goose berry
jelly."
"Scrambled Eggs with Toast."
"French Toast Sticks."
"Hash Brownies."
"And," our waitress added with
a thrill of excitement in her voice, "I perfected chocolate swans for everyone's
dessert."
He paused, and thought about
what he wanted, "I'll have some french toast sticks, and the raisin bread,"
Harry answered, while the waitress York scribbled that quickly on her pad
of paper.
"Coming right away, Governor,"
she said bowing again. The First York and the Tenth jumped off the table
and back onto the counter. They quickly served up a massive plate full
of raisin bread and french toast sticks.
"Would you like some syrup?"
the waitress asked.
"Yes please," Harry said, staring
down at his massive plate of toast and bread.
The waitress York bowed and
ran off the table. The other eleven Yorks hopped off the counter and ran
underneath the table. One York tugged on Harry's jeans and whispered, "Don't
look under the table for a second o-tay?" she let go of him, and skipped
underneath the table.
Harry heeded her advice, and
stared straight forward out the window. There was a bright flash of white
light and something hit the table from below.
"Ouch! Jeez, I always forget
about that," York's voice came from near Harry's feet. She crawled out
on her hands and knees, holding a syrup jug in her hand, "You requested
syrup?"
"How did you manage that?"
Harry asked, as she brushed down her outfit.
"Trust me, it's a given when
you do something that's honorable," she explained, putting the jug on the
table. Harry hadn't understood her, and didn't nudge her into saying anything
else. He just sat there, merrily eating the most wonderful breakfast he'd
had in a long time.
York had to dart between her
recipes now that she was her full size. Sweat began to build up on her
forehead as she stirred with one hand and flipped with another.
"I wish they'd get up soon,
I'm really starting to get tired," York said, mostly to herself, but loud
enough for Harry to hear her.
"I'll go and wake up Ron, if
you want," Harry said, getting to his feet. She turned to him and nodded
for him to proceed.
"Wake up Ginny too, won't you?"
York yelled, as Harry left the room.
With a full belly and high spirits,
Harry bounded up the stairs to wake up Ron.
Ron, after being woken up at
7:00 in the morning, didn't share Harry's happy disposition. He grumbled
and turned over in the sheets. Harry quickly tore the blanket off Ron's
bed, and kept them from him.
"Come on, get up!" Harry pleaded,
"Breakfast is getting cold downstairs."
"You... made... breakfast?"
Ron mumbled in curiosity.
"Nope, not me," Harry said,
waiting patiently for his friend to get up. Seeing that Ron was getting
to his feet, Harry darted out of the room and headed for Ginny's. Once
he reached the second landing he paused and looked around at several doors.
He paused and waited for Ron to come downstairs.
"What are you waiting for?
You dragged me up, so now I'm going to eat," Ron said, walking behind Harry
and heading for the kitchen.
"Wait, which room is Ginny's?
I was supposed to wake her up," Harry asked tugging on the back of Ron's
pajamas.
"That one," Ron said, pointing
to a door that was nearly in the middle, "You'll have to walk up some stairs,
but her room is through there."
Harry thanked him, and headed for
the door. As Ron had said, there were stairs there. After about two flights
there was a door, painted light yellow with a plaque on it that said 'Ginny'.
Harry paused, then knocked on the door quietly.
No one answered.
He knocked again a little louder.
No response.
Harry turned the door knob
slowly and peeked inside. Ginny's room matched her door mostly. The paint
was somewhat peeling off the walls in some spots; she had an extremely
tidy room; her wand was sitting elegantly on her desk next to a mirror
and what looked like a nail file; there were several stuffed animals sitting
in a corner from when she'd been small; her room was no bigger then Ron's;
it looked even slightly smaller. Ginny's bed was against the wall, and
there was a tiny window next to it.
Ginny sighed in her sleep and
turned over so she faced Harry. With her eyes closed and hair somewhat
messy, she looked tranquil sleeping there. Harry stepped into her room
slowly and kneeled on the floor next to her bed.
"Ginny," he said shaking her
shoulder softly, "Ginny."
Ginny's eyes snapped opened
like robots and she blushed automatically seeing Harry there, she squeaked
quietly and covered her mouth with her hand.
"Breakfast is ready if you
want any," Harry said softly, getting to his feet. He extending his hand
and helped Ginny up.
Ginny blushed again and let
go of his hand. They walked downstairs, and headed into the kitchen. Ron
was eating already when they entered.
"Hello," Ron said, his mouth
full of banana bread.
"Hey," Ginny said, happily
sitting down next to him. Harry sat on Ron's other side while York buzzed
around the kitchen getting a plate for Ginny.
Then nearly at the same time they
all noticed something; York wasn't using any magic to do anything for her.
Ginny gave her a puzzled look
as she handed her a plate and a fork.
"What would you like this morning?"
York asked, smiling at her.
"Um.. do you have any pancakes?"
Ginny asked hopefully.
"Coming right up," York said,
turning her back to them. Harry noticed the same tear in her shirt. His
dream flashed into his memory.
"That's why her shirt is ripped!
her wings broke through it," Harry said to himself.
Once everyone was well fed,
York took out her extremely long wand and zapped all of their dishes clean.
Mrs. Weasley came down the
stairs and entered her kitchen, humming a happy song. She walked over to
her cupboards with her eyes closed, and pulled an apron over her head,
ready to make breakfast.
"Hi, mum," Ginny said happily,
looking up at her from her seat.
Mrs. Weasley opened her eyes
in surprise and looked down at her, "Did you all ready eat?" she asked.
"Yep, we did," Ron answered,
with a happy grin, "York made us breakfast early."
"I thought it'd be best if
I took Harry early in the morning. I didn't want to trouble you, Mrs. Weasley,"
York said bowing her head slightly.
"No trouble dear, but where
will you and Harry be off to?" she asked taking her apron off.
"I've prepared a safe house
for the occasion. It's away from Muggle - and Wizard - eyes. No one can
see it unless I let them," York explained, "If it's all right with you,
I'd like to Ron and Ginny with me also."
Harry's hopes perked up; he'd
be leaving the Weasley's, but he'd still have Ron with him throughout the
rest of the summer.
"I see, I see. Well, I'll have
to talk to their father about this, although I don't see any reason why
not," Mrs. Weasley said, giving York an encouraging smile.
York smiled back, "I'll help you
make more breakfast, Mrs. Weasley," she said, clapping her hands. There
was a small flash of light, and on the floor in a pile, were the twelve
miniature York's from earlier, each wearing matching outfits.
Mrs. Weasley jumped back. Ron
and Ginny stared in confusion. Then all twelve of the Yorks took off to
work, making even more breakfast for the rest of the family.