'Nother quick note: I'd say I'll probably get up a chapter a night unless I experience writer's block, which I doubt will happen because I've got the essential parts of the plot worked out (what's going to happen to Harry, basically), I've just gotta fill in the holes with fluffiness like last chapter. And, by the way, thanks to those who have reviewed. You guys really flatter me.... I never thought people would actually like my stories.... Another note, one that I've just discovered: My spell check has crashed. It's not working. This sucks. Bare with me with my grammatical and spelling errors.
Chapter Six
Meeting the Switz Minister
Harry's eyes opened to slits the next morning. His body was aching from the ski trip; he now thought he'd just stick to Quidditch.... Much less painful than skiing....
He opened his eyes a little more. Well, he thought ruefully, at least I know the skiing had nothing to do with my sore muscles. He'd apparently fallen into the floor last night on the left side of his bed, sandwiching him up against the wall. He opened his eyes completely now, searching for his glasses. He'd left them on last night when he'd went to bed, but now they were nowhere to be found. He'd probably rolled over on top of them in his sleep.... Great, he thought, just what I need - my glasses are lying broken somewhere.
"Ron?" he muttered, rising his head enough to see over his bed. Ron seemed to be asleep, though; there was a great lump on his bed, but it wasn't moving. Harry clambored out of the tiny space between his bed and the wall, and walked over to Ron's bed. He took out his wand and prodded the lump. Nothing happened.
"Ron, wake up," Harry said sleepily. He was about to prod the lump-of-Ron a few more times when a piece of yellow parchment on the night stand caught his eye. He snatched it up and read it.
Harry,
Took Ron. Couldn't find you. Actually, we were too lazy to bend over to where you were. Do you often sleep in the floor? That's a very...strange...habbit. Anyway, if you wanna get Ron back, too bad. You'll have to find him on your own. With the help of our ingenious riddle: Ronniekins is hiding, in our secret lair; you'll prob'ly never find it, but try if you dare (corny, huh, Harry?); this one clue we'll leave, but you should take heed: if you don't like heights, don't get a nosebleed. (George claims that "poem," not me. It was all HIS idea, not MINE. MINE was better. OW! George, what'd you do that for?!)
Signed,
Fred and a very angry George
Harry sighed, knowing Fred and George's idea of fun was about to make him scour the house until he found a...secret passageway? Well.... How hard could it be?
Two hours later, Harry sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace, exhausted. He'd combed every inch of the cabin, but found nothing (if three Sickles, two Knuts, and a lot of angry mice aren't counted). Fred and George were just too good. He'd been upstairs, downstairs, through the living room, everywhere. Fred, George, and Ron were nowhere to be found. It also appeared that they'd taken Ginny and Hermione with them; the girls were not in any of the places he'd been.
"Guys, I give up, just come out already," muttered Harry exasperatedly. He had, however, found his glasses; they had been lying neatly on the stand near the sofa.
Suddenly a bunch of feathers fell all over him. He looked around, bewildered. Feathers? From the sky, maybe? No, they couldn't be from the sky - the sky was outside, not inside. Then he looked slowly upward.
Fred (George?) was standing about ten feet up, grinning mischeiviously. There was apparently a loft Harry had not been told of; Fred (George?) was not standing on nothing.
"So," Fred (George?) cackled gleefully. "D'you give up?"
"First thing's first," said Harry, "are you Fred or George?"
"Why, Harry, I'm surprised at you!" the twin said, continuing to grin. "I'd have thought you'd have known me from Fred!"
"Sorry, George," said Harry.
"No, no. I'm Fred," said the twin happily. "D'you give?"
"Yes! Just tell me where you were!"
"Secret passageway. Go upstairs to our room."
Harry sighed loudly, then got up and walked over to the stairs and climbed slowly up them. When he got to the top, he turned left and proceeded to walk into Fred and George's room. When he walked in, he was suddenly ambushed by millions of pillows hitting him in the face, and many loud screams.
After a moment, he was on the floor, and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were throwing pillows down on him as he managed to keep his glasses from falling off his face. After another moment, Harry had taken everyone else's pillows, tossed all but two down behind him where the others weren't, and was beating them all down, until they all ended up on Fred or George's bed, laughing.
"I'm gonna kill you guys one day," Harry muttered through his laughs, straightening his glasses.
"Aw, you'd never kill us, would you Harry?" George asked innocently. "And, if you would, why? We're perfect little angels..."
"Yeah right," Ron said, picking himself up.
"Oh, you should talk, Mr. I'm-Gonna-Follow-Harry-Even-If-We-Break-Every-Hogwarts-Rule," said Fred, also rising.
"Well, he's my best friend!"
"Yeah, and Fred's my best brother," said George, "so I have to follow HIM around."
Fred whacked George over the head with his hand as everyone else stood slowly. The twins continued hitting each other, until everyone was once more rolling with laughter (they'd both messed up their hair very badly). Even Hermione was chortling for once; Ron seemed to notice this also and gave Hermione a rare (for Ron and Hermione) smile. Harry felt his stomach turn over.
"Well, seeing as Dad's getting back tonight, we've got all day..." said George. "Want to play Quidditch?"
"You can't," said Hermione, "too many Muggles."
"Aw, c'mon, Hermi," whined Ron. Harry made another mental note at the use of "Hermi." "They won't see us!"
"It's too risky," said Hermione briskly and finally.
"Well then, how about making things a little...interesting....?" said Harry suddenly, an idea forming in his head.
"What d'you mean, Harry?" Ginny asked, speaking for the first time all morning.
"How about we have a little race through the woods?" he said, his green eyes glinting in the room's light. "First one to the clearing wins...er..."
"Losers get to be tortured in whatever way the winner likes," said George. "Harry, Ron, Fred, and me will race first, then the girls can - "
"No way," Hermione and Ginny chorused.
"Well then, gentlemen," said Fred, in a mock-gentlemanish voice, "shall we begin?"
Harry, Ron, and George nodded fervently.
"Grab your broomsticks, and we'll meet in the forest in five minutes!" Fred shouted.
Harry grinned, then ran to his and Ron's room to fetch his Firebolt. He bounded down the stairs a moment later, then rushed outside to find Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny already there. Ron arrived a moment later with his Nimbus Two Thousand.
"Okay," began George, "I'd say we start out here, and we have to stay below the treeline - no cheating! First one there wins, but has to stay to prove he was there. And, to make things more interesting, both the girls have to kiss the winner - "
Hermione's and Ginny's mouths opened furiously, but Fred finished for his brother: "On the cheek."
Hermione and Ginny still didn't seem to keen on the idea, but finally agreed to it ("Do it or I'll hex you!" said Fred and George over and over, until Ginny was wobbling around with the Jelly-Legs Curse, causing them both to agree and Hermione to perform the counter-curse).
"All right, Hermione, you start the race off," said Ron. "Count to three. If anyone cheats, they get hexed."
The boys nodded.
"Three..." said Hermione, "two...one...go!"
Harry pushed off hard and away they went. Harry jumped into the lead, and held it for a moment until George nearly swiped him into a tree, which caused him to fall back behind the others. He slowed for a moment, unwilling to hit the many trees. Ron seemed to have gotten the same idea; he was nearly back down to Harry's spot. Then the trees parted a bit, and Harry darted off again, leaning close to his broom. He wove in and out of trees until he finally saw George up ahead; Fred had fallen off someway back, putting him in last. Harry raced onward, blowing Ron off in the dust (or in our case snow). After a moment of steady speed, Harry was neck and neck with George. They were nearing the clearing by now, and George turned to smile at Harry.
"I know you'll enjoy this more than me," he said, then dropped straight back. Harry's head turned with George's speeding broomstick, until he snapped it back around in time to dodge a tree. Finally the clearing was a few feet away, and Harry flew to it and landed softly on the snow. Ron appeared next, then George, then a snow-covered Fred, who was laughing his head off.
"Well," said George, "how about we race back, too? Hermione kisses the winner on the cheek; Ginny'll be glad to take care of you, Harry."
Harry blushed deeply.
"All right then," said Ron suddenly. "Let's go."
As they lined up, Fred leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Let Ron win it. He'll love this."
Harry grinned and nodded.
"Three, two, one, go!" shouted George.
This time, Harry didn't immediately kick off; he waited a moment, then took off at full speed. Ron would be too far ahead by now to catch unless he hit a tree. The snow had been toppling down on them in the clearing, but now the forest was blocking the snow, and also the wind. In fact, everything went deadly still. Harry felt a chill creep down his spine, and sped up slightly, continuing to weave in and out of the trees. He finally made it back to the cabin, coming in last this time.
He landed quickly and softly on the snow, only to look up a moment later into a very wide man's face and shrink back down.
"What in Merlin's name were you doing?!" Mr. Weasley had stepped out from behind the wide man, and his face was livid. "Muggles could've seen you! I told you only to ride to the resort, and only yesterday!"
"You gave dese children permission to ride dose broomsticks?" the wide man asked, showing a very Dutch-like accent. "Arthur, dey could've been spotted. It vos too risky."
"Kids, meet Mr. Mundanian, the Minster of Switzerland's Ministry of Magic," said Mr. Weasley. "He came over to meet you all."
Harry looked over to Fred and George, who were scowling as they kicked snow at each other softly. Hermione was looking very disapproving, Ron was staring wide-eyed at the Minister (whom Harry guessed was half giant), and Ginny was kicking snow around her feet. Harry stood there, watching Mr. Mundanian's eyes form narrow slits.
"Um...sorry?" said Harry uncertainly.
"Yes, well, you should be," said Mr. Weasley mock-seriously, as Harry saw him wink behind Mundanian's back. "And I will be sure to punish them properly, Minister."
"Thank you, Arthur," said Mundanian. "Now, as for de incedent with the various flying objects: Thank you very much for coming dis far. We will always remember you well, Arthur. Don' go flying around here anymore, children."
Harry nodded, as he was the only one in front of the Minister, then watched as the Minister waddled down the pathway. Harry expected he had a ride at the street on the bottom of the hill. Harry turned back to Mr. Weasley.
"Well, kids, you shouldn't have been racing," said Mr. Weasley slowly, "but who won?"
Harry, Ron, Fred, and George's faces cracked into grins.
"Harry won on the way to the clearing," said Fred.
"And Ron won on the way back," finished George, grinning.
"Oh good! A Weasley won!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "Good job boys! But don't mess around anymore. Don't want Mundanian back here...."
"How much longer are we staying here?" Ginny asked as they walked back inside the cabin.
"Well, it had been for another week, but the problem was resolved much quicker than we'd thought," said Mr. Weasley, opening the door. "So we leave tomorrow morning."
Everyone groaned.
"Aw, but Dad, I don't want to leave," Fred whined.
"Maybe sometime we'll be able to come back. Now, I thought we could just take a nice long nap today..."
Everyone moaned again.
"Or you could do your homework."
"We'll settle for the nap," said Ron quickly. "I don't want to do Potions."
"All right then, you can pile up in the living room if you want, or you can go to your rooms."
He bid them goodbye, then headed for his room, stretching.
"Well," sniffed Hermione, "I'm going to do homework."
She had started to leave as Ron sat down on the couch. Ron grabbed him arm and tugged on it slightly.
"Aw Hermione," said Ron, grinning, "let's just rest."
"Yeah, and you owe Ron a kiss, Hermione," Fred piped in.
"And Ginny owes Harry one," said George, grinning broadly.
Hermione's mouth opened in horror, while Ginny blushed very deeply. Hermione glared at them all, then walked upstairs. Ginny stood for a moment, then headed on upstairs after Hermione.
"Well, let's go to sleep, shall we?" said George brightly.
Harry walked over to the couch and plopped down on it, stretching his legs. Ron stood up and walked over to the fireplace and laid down, while Fred and George headed for the "secret room" of theirs. Harry closed his eyes slowly, and eventually fell into a restless sleep.
"James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, please report to Professor Dumbledore's office," boomed a loud voice throughout the halls of Hogwarts. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who had been sitting in Double Potions with the Slytherins, gave each other high-fives.
"Outta this dungeon," Sirius declared, receiving a glare from a gnarled looking man at the front of the room. "Forgive me, Professor Talish, but we are late for a date with our dear Professor McGonagall."
Sirius bowed his way out of the dungeon, followed shortly by James, Remus, and Peter, all of whom were laughing.
"Wonder what we did this time?" Remus mused as they walked through the cold dungeon.
"I'd say it was probably the..." Sirius stopped midsentance. "Hey! We haven't done anything recently!"
"Yeah, well, maybe the girls did something without our concent," said Sirius in mock-offence.
"Could've been our moderation of the order of library books..." mused James thoughtlessly.
"Yeah," Peter laughed squeakily, "Madam Pinch was very irked at us."
"That was one of our best," said Sirius proudly. "Well, we're here."
They had reached the Transfiguration classroom; Professor McGonagall was the teacher of Transfiguration. Remus was about to rap on the door when Sirius barged in on the Professor's third year class.
"Black, do you know the meaning of a knock?" the professor asked, slightly irritated. "Potter, take your little group to my office. And DO NOT MESS WITH ANYTHING UNTIL I GET IN THERE."
James grinned mischeiviously, then led Sirius, Remus, and Peter to the door behind Professor McGonagall's desk.
"Be quick, Professor," Sirius whispered, "we've got a date with an ugly git in Double Potions. His cauldron needs a little brightening up."
Sirius ran inside the door before McGonagall could figure out what he'd said. The group was very familiar with McGonagall's office; she usually didn't send them to Dumbledore's office, it was always her's. And they usually came back with a month's detention. Not that they care; getting out of Potions was worth a year of detention.
After a moment of sitting at the four neatly arranged chairs, the door opened again and Professor McGonagall came in, looking livid.
"Aw, what'd we do this time, Professor?" Sirius asked in a whiny voice.
McGonagall ignored him, then walked around to her desk and drew out some papers.
"As much as I hate to say it," she said, "you lot scored higher on your O.W.L.s last year than anyone. You know that, don't you?" They all nodded. "Well, I'm curious as to how you did it. James, Sirius, and Remus, I can understand that. Remus studies a lot, he's a prefect; and you and Sirius, Potter, seem to know everything already, and your both prefects. So, Pettigrew, how'd you do it?"
"He studied for about nine months in advance," said Sirius, grinning. "We helped him, too, didn't we, Wormy?"
Peter nodded.
"I studied a LOT," he said.
"Well...okay, then..."
"Professor, what did you really call us in here for?" James asked. "I know it wasn't for that."
McGonagall eyed James very strangely, then sighed a very prolonged sigh.
"James," she said slowly, "Voldemort is after you." And she winced at herself for saying his name, as the boys all stared at each other blankly.
"Why?" James asked finally.
McGonagall stared at James, as though contemplating whether or not to tell him something. Finally she took a sharp breath.
"It begins, James, about four hundred fifty years ago," she said slowly. "Has Professor Flitwick taught you about Phoenix Song Charms?" James nodded. "Four hundred fifty years ago, Fawkes, Albus's phoenix, spoke to a man by the name of Nicolas Flamel - he was very good with Charms. He interpreted the message, and broadcast it across the country. It said - it said that a dark wizard would rise, more powerful even than Grindelwald was at that time, and that his only defeat would be by your child, James."
James stared open-mouthed at his Transfiguration teacher.
"Child?" he said after a moment. "Did it - did it tell who I'm going to marry, also? What if I don't?"
"Yes, it told who you were going to marry, but we cannot reveal that information to you. Albus wanted you to know, and wanted to tell you himself, but he is in France, helping rebuild Paris from an attack by want-to-be You-Know-Who supporters. That is all I can tell you...except.... Sorry, Potter," she whispered the final words very softly, and James was the only one who heard.
"You may go now," she said, regaining her composure.
James nodded.
"Albus will call you to his office the moment he gets back."
Harry's dream slowly faded, and he would later wake, once more forgetting it.
Chapter Six
Meeting the Switz Minister
Harry's eyes opened to slits the next morning. His body was aching from the ski trip; he now thought he'd just stick to Quidditch.... Much less painful than skiing....
He opened his eyes a little more. Well, he thought ruefully, at least I know the skiing had nothing to do with my sore muscles. He'd apparently fallen into the floor last night on the left side of his bed, sandwiching him up against the wall. He opened his eyes completely now, searching for his glasses. He'd left them on last night when he'd went to bed, but now they were nowhere to be found. He'd probably rolled over on top of them in his sleep.... Great, he thought, just what I need - my glasses are lying broken somewhere.
"Ron?" he muttered, rising his head enough to see over his bed. Ron seemed to be asleep, though; there was a great lump on his bed, but it wasn't moving. Harry clambored out of the tiny space between his bed and the wall, and walked over to Ron's bed. He took out his wand and prodded the lump. Nothing happened.
"Ron, wake up," Harry said sleepily. He was about to prod the lump-of-Ron a few more times when a piece of yellow parchment on the night stand caught his eye. He snatched it up and read it.
Harry,
Took Ron. Couldn't find you. Actually, we were too lazy to bend over to where you were. Do you often sleep in the floor? That's a very...strange...habbit. Anyway, if you wanna get Ron back, too bad. You'll have to find him on your own. With the help of our ingenious riddle: Ronniekins is hiding, in our secret lair; you'll prob'ly never find it, but try if you dare (corny, huh, Harry?); this one clue we'll leave, but you should take heed: if you don't like heights, don't get a nosebleed. (George claims that "poem," not me. It was all HIS idea, not MINE. MINE was better. OW! George, what'd you do that for?!)
Signed,
Fred and a very angry George
Harry sighed, knowing Fred and George's idea of fun was about to make him scour the house until he found a...secret passageway? Well.... How hard could it be?
Two hours later, Harry sat down on the sofa in front of the fireplace, exhausted. He'd combed every inch of the cabin, but found nothing (if three Sickles, two Knuts, and a lot of angry mice aren't counted). Fred and George were just too good. He'd been upstairs, downstairs, through the living room, everywhere. Fred, George, and Ron were nowhere to be found. It also appeared that they'd taken Ginny and Hermione with them; the girls were not in any of the places he'd been.
"Guys, I give up, just come out already," muttered Harry exasperatedly. He had, however, found his glasses; they had been lying neatly on the stand near the sofa.
Suddenly a bunch of feathers fell all over him. He looked around, bewildered. Feathers? From the sky, maybe? No, they couldn't be from the sky - the sky was outside, not inside. Then he looked slowly upward.
Fred (George?) was standing about ten feet up, grinning mischeiviously. There was apparently a loft Harry had not been told of; Fred (George?) was not standing on nothing.
"So," Fred (George?) cackled gleefully. "D'you give up?"
"First thing's first," said Harry, "are you Fred or George?"
"Why, Harry, I'm surprised at you!" the twin said, continuing to grin. "I'd have thought you'd have known me from Fred!"
"Sorry, George," said Harry.
"No, no. I'm Fred," said the twin happily. "D'you give?"
"Yes! Just tell me where you were!"
"Secret passageway. Go upstairs to our room."
Harry sighed loudly, then got up and walked over to the stairs and climbed slowly up them. When he got to the top, he turned left and proceeded to walk into Fred and George's room. When he walked in, he was suddenly ambushed by millions of pillows hitting him in the face, and many loud screams.
After a moment, he was on the floor, and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred, and George were throwing pillows down on him as he managed to keep his glasses from falling off his face. After another moment, Harry had taken everyone else's pillows, tossed all but two down behind him where the others weren't, and was beating them all down, until they all ended up on Fred or George's bed, laughing.
"I'm gonna kill you guys one day," Harry muttered through his laughs, straightening his glasses.
"Aw, you'd never kill us, would you Harry?" George asked innocently. "And, if you would, why? We're perfect little angels..."
"Yeah right," Ron said, picking himself up.
"Oh, you should talk, Mr. I'm-Gonna-Follow-Harry-Even-If-We-Break-Every-Hogwarts-Rule," said Fred, also rising.
"Well, he's my best friend!"
"Yeah, and Fred's my best brother," said George, "so I have to follow HIM around."
Fred whacked George over the head with his hand as everyone else stood slowly. The twins continued hitting each other, until everyone was once more rolling with laughter (they'd both messed up their hair very badly). Even Hermione was chortling for once; Ron seemed to notice this also and gave Hermione a rare (for Ron and Hermione) smile. Harry felt his stomach turn over.
"Well, seeing as Dad's getting back tonight, we've got all day..." said George. "Want to play Quidditch?"
"You can't," said Hermione, "too many Muggles."
"Aw, c'mon, Hermi," whined Ron. Harry made another mental note at the use of "Hermi." "They won't see us!"
"It's too risky," said Hermione briskly and finally.
"Well then, how about making things a little...interesting....?" said Harry suddenly, an idea forming in his head.
"What d'you mean, Harry?" Ginny asked, speaking for the first time all morning.
"How about we have a little race through the woods?" he said, his green eyes glinting in the room's light. "First one to the clearing wins...er..."
"Losers get to be tortured in whatever way the winner likes," said George. "Harry, Ron, Fred, and me will race first, then the girls can - "
"No way," Hermione and Ginny chorused.
"Well then, gentlemen," said Fred, in a mock-gentlemanish voice, "shall we begin?"
Harry, Ron, and George nodded fervently.
"Grab your broomsticks, and we'll meet in the forest in five minutes!" Fred shouted.
Harry grinned, then ran to his and Ron's room to fetch his Firebolt. He bounded down the stairs a moment later, then rushed outside to find Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny already there. Ron arrived a moment later with his Nimbus Two Thousand.
"Okay," began George, "I'd say we start out here, and we have to stay below the treeline - no cheating! First one there wins, but has to stay to prove he was there. And, to make things more interesting, both the girls have to kiss the winner - "
Hermione's and Ginny's mouths opened furiously, but Fred finished for his brother: "On the cheek."
Hermione and Ginny still didn't seem to keen on the idea, but finally agreed to it ("Do it or I'll hex you!" said Fred and George over and over, until Ginny was wobbling around with the Jelly-Legs Curse, causing them both to agree and Hermione to perform the counter-curse).
"All right, Hermione, you start the race off," said Ron. "Count to three. If anyone cheats, they get hexed."
The boys nodded.
"Three..." said Hermione, "two...one...go!"
Harry pushed off hard and away they went. Harry jumped into the lead, and held it for a moment until George nearly swiped him into a tree, which caused him to fall back behind the others. He slowed for a moment, unwilling to hit the many trees. Ron seemed to have gotten the same idea; he was nearly back down to Harry's spot. Then the trees parted a bit, and Harry darted off again, leaning close to his broom. He wove in and out of trees until he finally saw George up ahead; Fred had fallen off someway back, putting him in last. Harry raced onward, blowing Ron off in the dust (or in our case snow). After a moment of steady speed, Harry was neck and neck with George. They were nearing the clearing by now, and George turned to smile at Harry.
"I know you'll enjoy this more than me," he said, then dropped straight back. Harry's head turned with George's speeding broomstick, until he snapped it back around in time to dodge a tree. Finally the clearing was a few feet away, and Harry flew to it and landed softly on the snow. Ron appeared next, then George, then a snow-covered Fred, who was laughing his head off.
"Well," said George, "how about we race back, too? Hermione kisses the winner on the cheek; Ginny'll be glad to take care of you, Harry."
Harry blushed deeply.
"All right then," said Ron suddenly. "Let's go."
As they lined up, Fred leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Let Ron win it. He'll love this."
Harry grinned and nodded.
"Three, two, one, go!" shouted George.
This time, Harry didn't immediately kick off; he waited a moment, then took off at full speed. Ron would be too far ahead by now to catch unless he hit a tree. The snow had been toppling down on them in the clearing, but now the forest was blocking the snow, and also the wind. In fact, everything went deadly still. Harry felt a chill creep down his spine, and sped up slightly, continuing to weave in and out of the trees. He finally made it back to the cabin, coming in last this time.
He landed quickly and softly on the snow, only to look up a moment later into a very wide man's face and shrink back down.
"What in Merlin's name were you doing?!" Mr. Weasley had stepped out from behind the wide man, and his face was livid. "Muggles could've seen you! I told you only to ride to the resort, and only yesterday!"
"You gave dese children permission to ride dose broomsticks?" the wide man asked, showing a very Dutch-like accent. "Arthur, dey could've been spotted. It vos too risky."
"Kids, meet Mr. Mundanian, the Minster of Switzerland's Ministry of Magic," said Mr. Weasley. "He came over to meet you all."
Harry looked over to Fred and George, who were scowling as they kicked snow at each other softly. Hermione was looking very disapproving, Ron was staring wide-eyed at the Minister (whom Harry guessed was half giant), and Ginny was kicking snow around her feet. Harry stood there, watching Mr. Mundanian's eyes form narrow slits.
"Um...sorry?" said Harry uncertainly.
"Yes, well, you should be," said Mr. Weasley mock-seriously, as Harry saw him wink behind Mundanian's back. "And I will be sure to punish them properly, Minister."
"Thank you, Arthur," said Mundanian. "Now, as for de incedent with the various flying objects: Thank you very much for coming dis far. We will always remember you well, Arthur. Don' go flying around here anymore, children."
Harry nodded, as he was the only one in front of the Minister, then watched as the Minister waddled down the pathway. Harry expected he had a ride at the street on the bottom of the hill. Harry turned back to Mr. Weasley.
"Well, kids, you shouldn't have been racing," said Mr. Weasley slowly, "but who won?"
Harry, Ron, Fred, and George's faces cracked into grins.
"Harry won on the way to the clearing," said Fred.
"And Ron won on the way back," finished George, grinning.
"Oh good! A Weasley won!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "Good job boys! But don't mess around anymore. Don't want Mundanian back here...."
"How much longer are we staying here?" Ginny asked as they walked back inside the cabin.
"Well, it had been for another week, but the problem was resolved much quicker than we'd thought," said Mr. Weasley, opening the door. "So we leave tomorrow morning."
Everyone groaned.
"Aw, but Dad, I don't want to leave," Fred whined.
"Maybe sometime we'll be able to come back. Now, I thought we could just take a nice long nap today..."
Everyone moaned again.
"Or you could do your homework."
"We'll settle for the nap," said Ron quickly. "I don't want to do Potions."
"All right then, you can pile up in the living room if you want, or you can go to your rooms."
He bid them goodbye, then headed for his room, stretching.
"Well," sniffed Hermione, "I'm going to do homework."
She had started to leave as Ron sat down on the couch. Ron grabbed him arm and tugged on it slightly.
"Aw Hermione," said Ron, grinning, "let's just rest."
"Yeah, and you owe Ron a kiss, Hermione," Fred piped in.
"And Ginny owes Harry one," said George, grinning broadly.
Hermione's mouth opened in horror, while Ginny blushed very deeply. Hermione glared at them all, then walked upstairs. Ginny stood for a moment, then headed on upstairs after Hermione.
"Well, let's go to sleep, shall we?" said George brightly.
Harry walked over to the couch and plopped down on it, stretching his legs. Ron stood up and walked over to the fireplace and laid down, while Fred and George headed for the "secret room" of theirs. Harry closed his eyes slowly, and eventually fell into a restless sleep.
"James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, please report to Professor Dumbledore's office," boomed a loud voice throughout the halls of Hogwarts. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter, who had been sitting in Double Potions with the Slytherins, gave each other high-fives.
"Outta this dungeon," Sirius declared, receiving a glare from a gnarled looking man at the front of the room. "Forgive me, Professor Talish, but we are late for a date with our dear Professor McGonagall."
Sirius bowed his way out of the dungeon, followed shortly by James, Remus, and Peter, all of whom were laughing.
"Wonder what we did this time?" Remus mused as they walked through the cold dungeon.
"I'd say it was probably the..." Sirius stopped midsentance. "Hey! We haven't done anything recently!"
"Yeah, well, maybe the girls did something without our concent," said Sirius in mock-offence.
"Could've been our moderation of the order of library books..." mused James thoughtlessly.
"Yeah," Peter laughed squeakily, "Madam Pinch was very irked at us."
"That was one of our best," said Sirius proudly. "Well, we're here."
They had reached the Transfiguration classroom; Professor McGonagall was the teacher of Transfiguration. Remus was about to rap on the door when Sirius barged in on the Professor's third year class.
"Black, do you know the meaning of a knock?" the professor asked, slightly irritated. "Potter, take your little group to my office. And DO NOT MESS WITH ANYTHING UNTIL I GET IN THERE."
James grinned mischeiviously, then led Sirius, Remus, and Peter to the door behind Professor McGonagall's desk.
"Be quick, Professor," Sirius whispered, "we've got a date with an ugly git in Double Potions. His cauldron needs a little brightening up."
Sirius ran inside the door before McGonagall could figure out what he'd said. The group was very familiar with McGonagall's office; she usually didn't send them to Dumbledore's office, it was always her's. And they usually came back with a month's detention. Not that they care; getting out of Potions was worth a year of detention.
After a moment of sitting at the four neatly arranged chairs, the door opened again and Professor McGonagall came in, looking livid.
"Aw, what'd we do this time, Professor?" Sirius asked in a whiny voice.
McGonagall ignored him, then walked around to her desk and drew out some papers.
"As much as I hate to say it," she said, "you lot scored higher on your O.W.L.s last year than anyone. You know that, don't you?" They all nodded. "Well, I'm curious as to how you did it. James, Sirius, and Remus, I can understand that. Remus studies a lot, he's a prefect; and you and Sirius, Potter, seem to know everything already, and your both prefects. So, Pettigrew, how'd you do it?"
"He studied for about nine months in advance," said Sirius, grinning. "We helped him, too, didn't we, Wormy?"
Peter nodded.
"I studied a LOT," he said.
"Well...okay, then..."
"Professor, what did you really call us in here for?" James asked. "I know it wasn't for that."
McGonagall eyed James very strangely, then sighed a very prolonged sigh.
"James," she said slowly, "Voldemort is after you." And she winced at herself for saying his name, as the boys all stared at each other blankly.
"Why?" James asked finally.
McGonagall stared at James, as though contemplating whether or not to tell him something. Finally she took a sharp breath.
"It begins, James, about four hundred fifty years ago," she said slowly. "Has Professor Flitwick taught you about Phoenix Song Charms?" James nodded. "Four hundred fifty years ago, Fawkes, Albus's phoenix, spoke to a man by the name of Nicolas Flamel - he was very good with Charms. He interpreted the message, and broadcast it across the country. It said - it said that a dark wizard would rise, more powerful even than Grindelwald was at that time, and that his only defeat would be by your child, James."
James stared open-mouthed at his Transfiguration teacher.
"Child?" he said after a moment. "Did it - did it tell who I'm going to marry, also? What if I don't?"
"Yes, it told who you were going to marry, but we cannot reveal that information to you. Albus wanted you to know, and wanted to tell you himself, but he is in France, helping rebuild Paris from an attack by want-to-be You-Know-Who supporters. That is all I can tell you...except.... Sorry, Potter," she whispered the final words very softly, and James was the only one who heard.
"You may go now," she said, regaining her composure.
James nodded.
"Albus will call you to his office the moment he gets back."
Harry's dream slowly faded, and he would later wake, once more forgetting it.