Flipped
Chapter Five: Voldemort
Disclaimer: yatta yatta yatta…. All people/cast etc. belongs to JKR and all publishers associates and important people like that who should be working on book five, but are probably partying in her wealth (I'm not bitter or anything, nooo), and I own the plot… hopefully. Now, on with the story…
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When Arthur and Molly were woken up the next morning, it was by five very annoyed looking children. Their ears were full of cries of boredom at not being able to leave the house, and similar arguments. Arthur took care of those immediately.
"I know that you all want to go play," he explained to his five oldest children, "but you need to stay inside and play, that's all." he knew it was futile to try and get them to agree on anything, but he tried, at least.
When the kids had filed out grumbling under their breath, Molly and Arthur sat up, sighing slightly. It was going to be a long hideout.
"How long do you think they'll last before one of them tries to kill someone else?" Molly asked her husband in a mock-serious tone.
"Oh," answered Arthur, jokingly, "a few hours, maybe a day." He smiled at his wife, and kissed her sweetly before hopping out of bed. "Don't worry Molly, we'll be safe." And with that, he strode out of the room, headed downstairs to break up any future fights.
Molly stayed in bed only a moment longer, contemplating why on earth the Dark Lord could want to harm her family. She was still clueless. She found no solstice in brooding about it though, and firmly made her way downstairs, to help her husband keep the wild ones under control.
By lunchtime that day, Molly was ready to murder some of her own children herself. In the course of a few short hours, hundreds (it seemed like) of disasters had happened. Bill had fallen off of the ceiling fan, where he was trying to pretend to be a world famous Quidditch player with out the use of his broom, and broken his ankle. He was now in bed, a healing charm placed on him and strict orders to stay bedridden. Fred had decided that his baby brother Ron needed some excitement in his life, and told him to try an acid pop. Poor Ron had a hole in his tongue and was being held by his mother, still crying. George and Charlie were arguing over some toy or another, while Percy was tattling on them. Ginny was playing happily in her playpen, ignoring her many brothers and their issues.
All the children knew that their mother was horrible when angry, and needless to say, most of them ended up in various rooms or corners in punishment. Finally, Molly had her much deserved quiet.
She set out to cleaning, a job never done in the Burrow. She was almost done with the house, when she heard yelling from upstairs. She sighed, and made her way up to put a stop to yet another argument over space. When she got there, George and Fred swore the other had touched him, or looked at him wrong. Molly had had enough.
"THAT'S IT!" she shouted, stomping her foot for emphasis. "I want all of you in this room at once!" Everyone in the house could hear her, and they all (with the exception of little Ginny) trudged up to meet their certain doom, or so they thought.
When all children were assembled in front of her, Molly started.
"I am tired of all of your silly arguments," she started, glowering at each boy. "I want you boys to get along while we are stuck inside a house here. I know its not fair to you, but these are trying times, and I hope that all of you will show some courage, and stop tormenting each other long enough to get along and learn something." She glared at them all for good measure, and then sent them all away, telling them they were out of punishment.
By the time Arthur had gotten home that night, the boys were playing quietly, or trying, and Ginny was asleep again. He found his wife starting dinner, looking much happier than when he had left her. If he found anything strange about the situation, he wisely didn't mention it.
With dinner over, Molly sent the kids away, and they ran upstairs, Ron once again a ways behind his brothers, trying for all he was worth to catch up. Molly held Ginny, and they made their own way upstairs to their room.
"We survived," Molly muttered, before setting Ginny in her crib, and falling into bed, utterly exhausted. Arthur just smiled, and climbed into bed after her.
The next day was considerably better in the Weasley household. The rambunctious boys tried their best to play considerably, and when all else failed, they squabbled quietly, a good ways away from their mother.
Molly had the easiest time. She spent her second day in the house playing with her only daughter, trying to get the infant to talk. Ron was no help, being almost eighteen months himself, he was very happy to be able to say most of what was on his mind. He led continuing commentary to Ginny's silence. Molly didn't tire though. She found the situation entirely amusing.
By midday, Arthur had come home early from work, boldly stating that he cared not a twit for his boss, and wanted to stay with his family. Molly giggled like a schoolgirl, and the boys cheered. The afternoon found the boys and their father running up and down the stairs of the rickety old house, hiding and chasing one another around for hours. Molly put Ginny to sleep, with a silencing charm on her worn crib, and laughed as she made dinner, the occasional child scampering into and quickly out of the kitchen.
When everyone was worn out, and dinner was ready, the spirits were high. There was not a face at the crowded table that wasn't smiling, or outright laughing. Dinner was a happy affair, and both parents and their children enjoyed the company of family.
Sadly, their small bout of paradise could not last forever.
As the large, but happy family was just finishing a fantastic dessert of pudding and cream, their came a gigantic crash from outside, and the lights all went out at the same instant. The children became deathly quite, and Ginny could be heard whimpering from Molly's shoulder. Arthur got up quickly. He motioned for his family to remain where they were, and left the kitchen, traveling through the small house to the front door.
Wide, frightened eyes met Molly's in the kitchen, but she could offer her many children no comfort. Her own face was white as a ghost, and she looked frightened to death herself. Bill, the oldest, decided he needed to help and, assessing the situation, knew that something was wrong, very wrong. His mother was frightened, and his father was worried; two states that were very rare in both parents. He took in the state of his brothers and sister. Charlie was trying to comfort Percy, who looked to be more scared than his mother, as quietly as possible. The twins were holding on to each other, seldom seen identical looks of seriousness on their faces. Ginny was in his mothers arms, and Ron, Ron was by himself, looking at his family with wide brown eyes. He sat on a stack of weathered books, seeming to be nonchalant. Bill guessed that the small boy was too young to understand what was going on.
What was going on? Bill didn't understand it himself.
Shouts, and pops like firecrackers that the twins continually set off interrupted Bill's thoughts. Molly suddenly snapped out of starring into space, and, with one swift look at her children, stood quickly.
"Come on. Now," she snapped, hurrying out of the kitchen, up the stairs. She waited while her sons quickly followed her, and passed her on the stairs, the shouts from outside getting louder. "Hurry!" Molly urged them. They ran up the stairs, no longer cautious or quiet. All five boys that were able scurried up the steps, their mother clutching young Virginia close behind. They knew nothing of what was outside the house or below them, but they heard the panic in their mother's voice, and took heed. They ran for all they were worth.
Arthur had crept to the door, trying desperately to see what had made the crash. He looked out the windows on the sides, still unable to see anything but darkness. He cursed silently, and made his way as quietly as possible out to the front porch. The boundaries on the spell reached to the end of the porch, and Arthur sincerely hoped that whatever had made the very large crash was nothing to worry about.
His hopes were dashed, when, inspecting the whole of the wrap around porch, wand outstretched, he turned the last corner to face a group of three or four men, all dressed in black as night robes, and all equipped with white masks.
Arthur cursed loudly, and sent the first hex that came to mind at the group. The four Death Eaters whipped around, and moved towards the lone wizard. He expertly dodged many of the curses that were thrown at him, and sent a good many to the Death Eaters themselves. Arthur shouted at his family to hide, but he knew it was futile. They could hear nothing of went on outside, most likely. A small part of his mind that wasn't trying to fight the Death Eaters in front of him was calmly noting that these men were not trying to kill him. None of the curses sent were killers, or even Unforgivables. Why wouldn't they just finish me, he mused, unless they were stalling…
His stomach fell, and he knew that this had all been set up. While he wasted his time with petty Death eaters his wife and children were inside, defenseless. They were stalling, until their master arrived, or keeping him busy while his family was killed inside. Arthur, still throwing and dodging curses, his mind acting lightning fast, knew he had to get away from the distraction. He ducked behind a loveseat on the porch, and felt in his pockets for anything useful.
He groped about for a moment before he pulled out… fireworks? Of course, he remembered. He had taken them from Fred and George this morning. Perfect.
He muttered a hurried spell, and threw them behind his head, at what he hoped was the Death Eaters. When he heard the familiar pops and smelt the smoke, he ran for the door of the house. He raced into the back door, only to find three more black robed figures hurrying through his house, the only lights visible were pinpricks from wands.
Arthur, not bothering with thinking, quickly stunned one man, and ran from the other two. He made his way into the kitchen, praying his family would be alive.
Before he made it three steps, a boom went thought the air, and the house itself shuddered. Arthur staggered a few steps, looking around wildly for the source of the great disturbance. He turned around, and did not like what he saw.
A whole side of his house was missing, the wall gone in a cloud of smoke. In a few seconds of silence, the smoke parted, and the form of pure evil walked through where the door had been.
Arthur stood his ground, terrified. The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort himself, was walking towards him, through his own house. He was tall, and his night black hair fell around his shoulders menacingly. He walked slowly toward the Weasley, all the while smiling sinisterly, blood-red eyes gleaming in hatred and mirth.
Arthur shuddered, and held his wand high. He prayed his family had gotten upstairs.
But what good will that do now, a sinister voice inside his head taunted. Arthur was unsure whether it was his own condescending conscience, or the Dark Lord in front of him, playing with his very thoughts. It was a matter he did not bother to contemplate at the moment.
All hope is surely lost.
Arthur backed up, until his back hit the living room wall, never once taking his eyes off the man I (?) towering above him.
"Arrthurr…" Voldemort purred. It was a chilling sound, and Arthur suppressed another shudder, and looked the demon square in the eye. He would not go down without a fight.
"You will not harm my family while I am alive, you monster!" this valiant attempt at bravery in the face of terror did not go unnoticed.
The man, or whatever he was, before him smiled. "That can be arranged, my dear man," The Dark Lord said, and behind him his ring of masked men let small laughs escape them.
Arthur felt his face pale. He would not survive the night: of this he was certain.
"You wont get away with this," Arthur snarled. He was through being polite. If he could possibly stall the demon long enough, possibly his family would be able to escape. It was a small hope in the despairing man's head, but it gave him strength to continue to bait a monster.
"I don't mean to," the demon answered, and in that moment, Arthur felt a new feeling wash over his body. Terror. A new kind, not for himself, or even his family, but the world as a whole. The Dark Lord would kill him, his wife and children, and the world would know it, yet do nothing to stop the demon. The world around them was crumbling, and it seemed that there was little or no hope left.
"What do you get from all this," the young redhead asked viscously. "You must see you are fouling the world with your evil schemes. When all the muggles in the world are gone, all you'll have left is ruins." He cared not that the glint of malice was growing in his opponents mind. He knew in his heart that not one member of his family would survive, and it gave him a desperate, crazed approach to the evil before him. Some remote, still-rational part of his mind wondered if this was what going insane was like.
The blood-red eyes before him snapped together and gave such a condescending look that any sane man would have quailed, but the Gryffindor alumni stood, proud and brave in the face of death.
"Go. To. Hell!" he shouted at the Dark Lord, moments before the demon whipped out a long, slender rod of wood, and shouted the arcane words of force at the Arthur Weasley.
Avada Kedavra!A rushing of wind, a flash of green, and the redheaded man in question was on the floor, a crazed smile on his lips, his eyes forever open.
The man that towered above the figure grinned, and turned to the recruits in black behind him.
"Now, lets go and play," He turned out of the shambled living room, and walked menacingly to the rickety stairs of the old house, a broad and very deranged smile on his face. The men in black came behind him, grinning, and giving looks of glee between the masked horrors.
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A/n: well? Next chapter will be Molly and the kids, I swear. *Grins Evilly* Please send any comments, questions, and flames to my personal secretary, the review box. And I swear, I'm going to try and post more regularly. I have great plans for this story.