Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Chapter Six: Moonlight and Messages

Now Ginny held the owl tenderly in her arms, the oatmeal slowly transferring onto her shirt, drip by drip. She was murmuring something to it, and it perked up its ears every so often, but other than that, the owl lay still. Harry flashed Ron a look and Ron gently shook his head. He wasn't expecting a recovery. Unspilled tears wet Hermione's eyes. Even though the owl wasn't hers, she knew all it had done for the family.

Mrs. Weasley took a step toward her daughter and the owl, prepared to have a burial service this very night. She thought sadly, It's too bad Arthur couldn't see this. His job had called him to work hours ago, something about Molly Weasley sighed, He always seemed to have the worst timing.

Then, all of a sudden, Errol turned over in Ginny's arms as so to face her. Ginny leaned closer to the owl, and it promptly burped something up on her shirt.

"ERROL!" Ginny screamed, surprisingly and left Errol to lie on the table.

Fred and George laughed heartily, soon starting the whole family up in a bout of joviality and laughter.

While engrossed in their laughter, they didn't bother to notice the refreshed owl. For refreshed he was, Errol shook himself once or twice, twittered his wings madly to get them started, and directly after that, the owl was perfectly okay, soon flying off... far, far away.

Ginny had other problems to deal with.

Her shirt was covered with something of a color that would make your stomach turn. "MUM! I'M TAKING A SHOWER!"

So she hopped up the stairs, trying to wipe off the mess upon her.

A new statement started them laughing again. "Ginny! Don't you dare touch the banister with those hands of yours!"

The rest of the family, including Harry and Hermione took their places at the table where Mrs. Weasley had prepared a breakfast of potato pancakes and toast.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley," Hermione stated politely, echoing her good background.

As Mrs. Weasley was about to respond, George interrupted, "Woman! What are you doing! Are you trying to make us look bad?"

Hesitantly, she replied, "No..."

Fred butted in, saying, "Well, you're not making him look any worse than normal...Look at his ugly mug!"

"That deserves a punch..."

"Not at my dinner table!"

So the discussion stopped and in its place a more comfortable yet avid conversation took place while Ginny showered, with Fred and George redirecting every so often with some well-placed comments. It turned out that Harry's Galleons had purchased for them a small shop, and under Zonko's supervision, they were to create their joke material.

Mrs. Weasley hadn't liked the idea at first, but like all mothers, she wanted her children to be happy. And they did have a goal to work for at least.

"No, Ron, we wouldn't have Lupin again, you know that Snape hates him," Hermione stated confidentially.

"But Hermione, Snape hates Sirius too, and they can deal with each other!" The disputatious Ron retorted irately.

Here Hermione lowered her voice, but Harry could hear snatches of a phrase that ended with "tried to eat you!"

Understanding flashed in Ron's eyes, and Harry had to admit that it did take him a while for all the lights in his head to go on.

"Well, Hermione, what about Moody?"

"The real Moody? He never fulfilled his year, so I guess he has an obligation to us..."

Ron lowered his voice to whisper, "Think he's anything like the fake one?"

"Probably," she answered cryptically.

"Athena," Harry mumbled. "She could be our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Say something Harry?"

"Not a word Ron. Not a word..."

"Oh." He turned back to the argumentative

Ginny lightly tapped down the stairs and stood on the landing distraught and angry. Something in her manner told everyone in the house that something was amiss, and they all intended to find out what it was. Her eyes were blank and unseeing, almost as if...

"Ginny, what's wrong?" her mother had asked.

And she tossed Ron what looked like a ball, but in reality was a wad of parchment. Ron was eager to open it up, but Hermione had warned against it and he was strung between curiosity and common sense. Something that had just been burped up by a missing owl wasn't a smart choice to divulge curiosity in.

Finally Mrs. Weasley placed a simple protecting charm against them which warded off most spells. With tweezers and gloves they crowded around the table and opened up the roll. Everyone then saw exactly what Ginny had seen; she had cleaned off were the words "Harry Potter" and it seemed enough to faze her. Harry passed his hand over the name once, and he doubled over with pain. His scar was throbbing while a myriad of stars exploded behind his eyes, rendering him momentarily blind.

"HARRY!" Hermione hurried to his side. Mrs. Weasley ran off to find her painkillers. Ginny just stood there for a few seconds until whatever spell she was under wore off and then followed Hermione's example.

Harry awoke under Ron's bedcovers with burns upon his fingers. The fingertips were blistered by some obvious heat, and his arms were tinged a pink pallor. It wasn't as painfully excruciating as the several times he had come in contact with the Dark Lord, but he knew his touch; and how it hurt him. Ginny faithfully slept upon the foot of his bed, obviously waiting for him to awaken.

"Ginny?"

He shook her arm gently, but she was in a deep of a dream as they come. Harry smiled, wondering what she dreamt so heavily about. The breezes outside caused the curtains to flutter in, patterning the walls with ghostly shadows created by moonlight and imagination.

She stirred slightly, and Harry shook her again. This time his touch awakened her.

"Harry?" she yawned sleepily. "Have to show you..."

Ginny led him downstairs to a table. A bowl filled with soap, dirt, and water lay overtop it with the familiar parchment beside it.

"We found out what it said."

Now wary, Harry merely waited for her to continue.

"Mum spent hours delicately brushing it to clean --"

"You mean it didn't hurt her?"

"No, it only hurt you. She said that without the charm you could have died."

Harry seriously doubted it, but said, "Can I see the message?"

Ginny picked up the parchment, her fingers trembling.

The parchment was blank except for six little words, carefully penned in scarlet ink.

I'm coming for you Harry Potter.

*~*~*~*

(A/N: And you thought I would leave you like that...)

Harry gasped softly as Ginny hung her head. "I didn't mean to hurt you Harry, Hermione said as soon as I touched it I was under a trance-- I didn't know what I was doing."

"I didn't blame you Ginny."

"I was afraid you would."

An owl hooted eerily from the nearby trees. "Ginny, let's go back to sleep."

"Of course."

Both trudged up the stairs and parted at the rooms.

"Good night Ginny."

"Good night Harry." and then she mumbled softly so only her ears could hear, "Sweet dreams."

*~*~*~*

Harry had snuck the parchment to his room. He had found out that now nothing happened when he touched the message. So he lay there, alone in Ron's room, listening to only the ghost in the attic and the voices in his head.

After an hour or so of tossing his memories together, (time never goes by the same for the dreamers who wait for inspiration,) the only complete thought he could form was Why are they after me?

He then remembered that the pain never centered at his scar, always in his hands. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't hurt his hands unless he touched him. And promptly after forming that, another unanswered question popped up. If their touch doesn't feel anything like Voldemort's then who are they, and what do they want with me?

*~*~*~*

Thanks to the following people:

Kelzery, SaneLunatic, Bandy (you haven't reviewed before!), Lord of the Net, Shadow, Carly, Harry Potter (interesting choice of names), and Tadariada.

Another A/N: All the shippers out there had better start talking if they want this story to go their way! I mean, I have my own ideas... but they'll come out in the end.