HARRY POTTER AND THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX
Created by J.K. Rowling, Anticipated For Impatient Readers by Chrissy
Disclaimer: Harry and all of his friends belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc., and not me. Obviously I don't know what the Order of the Phoenix is in her mind; this is merely my interpretation. No money is being made off of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.
*
CHAPTER SIX: THE PRICE OF A FIREBOLT
They could tell something was wrong as soon as they reached the edge of the garden. Every light in the Burrow was on, and Harry could see silhouettes pacing back and forth in front of them. The sun was just reaching the edge of the horizon, and the shadows the bushes cast on the grass were eerie.
Ron seemed to notice the problem as well. "Do you suppose something's happened?" he offered weakly, as they crept closer to the window.
"I don't know.," Harry replied uneasily. As they reached the window, he tried not to trample the flowerbed, but he wanted a closer look. He could see Mrs. Weasley through the doorway to the living room, sitting on the couch, and an old man. Dumbledore was sitting beside her, holding her hand. "Oh, no," he muttered.
Ron looked shaken, and when he looked up at Harry, his face was horror-stricken. "You. you don't think something happened. I. I mean, Dad's in there, right? He's okay?" He peered closer. "Where's Hermione?"
"She's over there on the stairs with Fred and George. God, I think she's crying, too," Harry muttered.
They heard a small gasp behind them, and the boys turned simultaneously.
"Ginny!" Ron hissed furiously. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She had fallen out of the bush, but didn't seem to notice the scratches and tiny red welts running up and down her arms where her fall had been broken by Stinging Nettle. She inched closer to them. "What's going on? Why are they all crying? It isn't Him, is it?"
"No," another voice growled behind them. Sirius Black was towering over the lot of them, his fierce gaze traveling over Ginny, then Ron, and finally settling on Harry. "But they don't know that. You'd better get inside." He waited for them to mount the stairs of the front stoop, and then stalked in behind them, slamming the door.
Mrs. Weasley came to the door to investigate the noise, and uttered a yelp when she saw them all standing there. "Ginny!" she shrieked. "Ron! Oh, Harry!" She ran forward and smothered all three in a ferocious hug that lasted until Harry felt he couldn't breathe anymore. At last they were released, and the room seemed to be drawing in around them.
Mr. Weasley was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his face ashen. Beside him was Percy, who looked equally upset. Hermione, George and Fred sat on the stairs, staring at the three with shocked and - in the case of the twins - angry eyes. Sirius stood beside them, looking just as livid.
And Dumbledore was standing on the edge of the living room, his face twisted in the same furious expression Harry had seen the year before, following Cedric Diggory's death.
Dumbledore was the first one to speak. "Have I, or have I not, made it expressly clear to you all the danger that we are facing?" His voice was trembling with barely-suppressed rage, and Harry couldn't help but feel terrified. He'd never had that kind of fury directed at him before.
Ron was the first one to find his voice. "Y-Yes, sir."
"Then what on earth possessed you to leave this house alone?" Mr. Weasley questioned. Harry had never seen Mr. Weasley angry before. and after this experience, he rather hoped he'd never see him angry again. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed, his lips pressed into a straight line. Gone was the compassionate twinkle in his eyes, the gentle laugh lines that surrounded his eyes and mouth. He looked as dangerous as Dumbledore.
He didn't know where he found the courage to do it, but he figured this must have been the moment of bravery the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor for. Harry stepped forward hesitantly. "It was my fault. I convinced Ron to go with me."
"Why?" Sirius questioned, with a careful hold on his voice.
"To." Harry hesitated. His excuse sounded ridiculous now, and he stared at his shoes as he finally uttered it. "To get my broomstick."
"His broomstick!" Sirius exploded immediately, flinging his hands in the air. "He went to get his bloody broomstick!" He stared at Harry angrily. "So it was your idea, then."
Harry felt his face growing hot, and a family surge of anger filling his veins. "Yeah. It was! I wasn't going to leave it up on the field where anyone could take it!"
"And you thought it was worth risking your life for?" Sirius shouted.
Surprisingly enough, it was Fred who stepped in. "Look, Mr. Black, Harry obviously didn't mean anything by it. We were up on that field earlier today, and Ron got hit with a Bludger. I'm sure Harry didn't mean to miss his broom."
"The broom is not the issue, Fred," Mr. Weasley said. He looked very tired, suddenly. He looked over to Sirius and Dumbledore. "Would one of you like to explain, or should I?"
Dumbledore shook his head graciously, suddenly appearing much calmer. "It involves the Ministry, Arthur. Why don't you explain." Sirius grunted his assent.
Mr. Weasley sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Harry, the reason you were brought here for the remainder of the summer holidays was. well. we know that Voldemort has been working with someone - a group of people, in fact - inside the Ministry of Magic."
Percy started. "Dad, that's top-level information! Are you -"
Mr. Weasley waved his hand for silence. "I'm sure," he answered Percy. "And I'm sure that everyone in this room is trustworthy." He turned back to the others, and especially Harry. "We had you brought here so that you would be ready to. well, to run, and at a moment's notice. Voldemort is no longer an abstract, Harry. Up until tonight, I thought you would understand that better than anyone." The disappointment was evident on his face, and Harry felt ashamed. "I guess I was wrong."
Mr. Weasley turned to his wife. "Molly, I'll leave it to you to discipline Ron and Ginny. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."
Mrs. Weasley kissed him good-night, and glared sternly at the three guilty teenagers as her husband staggered up the stairs. "Do you have any idea what you three did to us tonight?" she hissed. "Arthur popping home from work, frantic with worry, yelling to grab Harry and go straight to Hogwarts. and you three, missing! What were we supposed to think? What were we supposed to do?!"
Harry didn't know about Ron and Ginny, but he felt extremely confused. "What do you mean? We're going to Hogwarts now? Did something happen?"
Sirius studied them all, considerably calmer. "Yes, Harry, something happened," he said quietly. "Voldemort's first strike, it would appear."
"What?" Ron reeled as though he had been slapped. "What happened?"
"A bookstore on Diagon Alley, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore answered. He, too, appeared calmer. "The proprietor and several customers were killed an hour ago, while you, Harry, and Miss Weasley were up fetching Harry's broom. The Dark Mark was sent into the sky, and a message was left with the only surviving witness: that Harry Potter would be next." He paused, not for dramatics, but simply in exhaustion. "You're in danger, Harry," he stated simply.
"Voldemort hasn't just returned," Sirius added. "He's getting stronger. He didn't even bother waiting for nightfall. There was a reason behind this strike, and my best guess is that he thought Harry would be there."
"We don't know that," Percy argued, standing up straighter. "If they were after Harry. well, they probably would have attacked here."
"Unless they were aware of the defensive measures protecting this house," Sirius shot back. "Or they might have known he would be coming to Diagon Alley." He paused, glaring at Harry. "Of course, they may have just been trying to scare him. Did it work?"
"How can you say that?" Hermione whispered from the stairs. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, but her cheeks were beginning to darken in anger. "Of course it worked! They're all scared! Look at them! And your yelling at them isn't helping anything!" She appeared frustrated and infuriated. "You're all being so completely narrow-minded! Why don't you just be quiet and listen to them, for God's sake!"
"Because this isn't a game, Hermione!" Sirius yelled back. He paused, obviously struggling to contain himself. "They put their lives on the line for a broomstick! It was an utterly stupid and selfish thing to do!"
"Well, fine!" Hermione shot back. "I agree! It was stupid, and it was certainly selfish, but standing here just yelling at them for an hour isn't going to change anything!"
"ENOUGH!" George finally bellowed. "I've had enough of the shouting, too. Why don't we all discuss this like adults?"
"Oh, that's rich coming from you, George," Mrs. Weasley muttered.
"Nevertheless, Molly, I believe your son has a point," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry was relieved to see that his usual demeanor seemed to have returned.
Harry stepped forward. "Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore," he began. "I'm sorry. Really."
"We all are," Ginny added softly. She hadn't spoken a word since they had stepped inside, and Harry had almost forgot she was there. "We never should have gone out tonight."
"It won't happen again," Ron added hoarsely.
Mrs. Weasley scowled. "I should think not!" She glared at them for a moment, and then her expression softened. "I. we were so worried. I think it would be best if you all just went up to bed."
Dumbledore sighed. "Agreed."
Sirius hesitated. "I would like a private word with Harry first, Molly, if you don't mind." He glanced at Harry, who tried not to cringe with fear. "I'm done yelling," he added quietly.
"All right, then," Dumbledore said. He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly, I'm sorry about all of this. I do hope you're feeling better. I really must get back to Hogwarts now, but let me know if there is anything further I can do."
Mrs. Weasley smiled for the first time that night. "Thank you very much. I'm very glad you arrived so quickly. I was losing my mind!"
"One has a tendency to do that when one's children are in danger," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. He patted her hand, and turned to Sirius. "Will you be following, then, when you're done?"
Sirius nodded. "I'll be along in a minute." He turned back to Harry. "A word, please?" Dumbledore Disapparated, and Sirius and Harry went into the kitchen.
As soon as they were alone, Sirius grabbed Harry and wrapped him in a fierce hug. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then he backed away, a look of embarrassment on his face. "Sorry," he muttered gruffly.
"Me, too." Harry was surprised. He'd never had a. well, a dad to hug him like that. He'd never had someone care that much about him before. "Really, Sirius, I know it was stupid. I swear I'll think more, okay?"
Sirius grinned wryly. "Thank you. You have no idea what that does for my peace of mind." The grin faded. "I was really, really worried tonight, Harry. All I kept thinking about was your parents. They. they trusted me to take care of you, Harry. And what if I messed up?" He shivered. "What if I found you. the way I found them?" His eyes stared past Harry, distant, and Harry shivered, too. But Sirius looked back at him quickly. "I'm sorry if I scared you out there."
Harry shrugged. "Nah. I mean." He grinned. "I guess. well, I sort of deserved it."
"'Sort of'?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow, staring down at his godson fondly. "So I guess you do like that broomstick, eh?"
Harry couldn't help it; he began to laugh. It was the last thing he'd expected Sirius to say. Sirius began to laugh too, and the two of them stood by the table, tears streaming down their faces, howling for no reason at all. Finally, they both quieted, and Harry was startled. The cold feeling he'd been carrying around all summer, all the bad memories of the year before - Cedric's death, Voldemort's rise, his parents' apparitions - it had all seemed to fade away a bit. He didn't feel quite so angry anymore.
"Thanks, Sirius," he said quietly. He grinned. "It's kind of nice to know someone worries about me that much, anyhow."
Sirius looked surprised, and then smiled. "Good." He sighed, and offered his hand. "Well, I hate to leave."
".but you have to," Harry finished as they shook. He stepped back, and Sirius stared at him for a long moment.
"I don't know when I'll see you again, Harry," he said quietly. "I'll try to make it soon, but you know how it is."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I know."
Sirius smiled at him, and before their good-byes could become awkward, he Disapparated.
Harry leaned back against a chair. Sirius was gone. It might be another few months before he would see him again.
He realized he'd forgot to ask about his birthday present.
Created by J.K. Rowling, Anticipated For Impatient Readers by Chrissy
Disclaimer: Harry and all of his friends belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., etc., and not me. Obviously I don't know what the Order of the Phoenix is in her mind; this is merely my interpretation. No money is being made off of this story, and no copyright infringement is intended.
*
CHAPTER SIX: THE PRICE OF A FIREBOLT
They could tell something was wrong as soon as they reached the edge of the garden. Every light in the Burrow was on, and Harry could see silhouettes pacing back and forth in front of them. The sun was just reaching the edge of the horizon, and the shadows the bushes cast on the grass were eerie.
Ron seemed to notice the problem as well. "Do you suppose something's happened?" he offered weakly, as they crept closer to the window.
"I don't know.," Harry replied uneasily. As they reached the window, he tried not to trample the flowerbed, but he wanted a closer look. He could see Mrs. Weasley through the doorway to the living room, sitting on the couch, and an old man. Dumbledore was sitting beside her, holding her hand. "Oh, no," he muttered.
Ron looked shaken, and when he looked up at Harry, his face was horror-stricken. "You. you don't think something happened. I. I mean, Dad's in there, right? He's okay?" He peered closer. "Where's Hermione?"
"She's over there on the stairs with Fred and George. God, I think she's crying, too," Harry muttered.
They heard a small gasp behind them, and the boys turned simultaneously.
"Ginny!" Ron hissed furiously. "What the hell are you doing here?"
She had fallen out of the bush, but didn't seem to notice the scratches and tiny red welts running up and down her arms where her fall had been broken by Stinging Nettle. She inched closer to them. "What's going on? Why are they all crying? It isn't Him, is it?"
"No," another voice growled behind them. Sirius Black was towering over the lot of them, his fierce gaze traveling over Ginny, then Ron, and finally settling on Harry. "But they don't know that. You'd better get inside." He waited for them to mount the stairs of the front stoop, and then stalked in behind them, slamming the door.
Mrs. Weasley came to the door to investigate the noise, and uttered a yelp when she saw them all standing there. "Ginny!" she shrieked. "Ron! Oh, Harry!" She ran forward and smothered all three in a ferocious hug that lasted until Harry felt he couldn't breathe anymore. At last they were released, and the room seemed to be drawing in around them.
Mr. Weasley was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his face ashen. Beside him was Percy, who looked equally upset. Hermione, George and Fred sat on the stairs, staring at the three with shocked and - in the case of the twins - angry eyes. Sirius stood beside them, looking just as livid.
And Dumbledore was standing on the edge of the living room, his face twisted in the same furious expression Harry had seen the year before, following Cedric Diggory's death.
Dumbledore was the first one to speak. "Have I, or have I not, made it expressly clear to you all the danger that we are facing?" His voice was trembling with barely-suppressed rage, and Harry couldn't help but feel terrified. He'd never had that kind of fury directed at him before.
Ron was the first one to find his voice. "Y-Yes, sir."
"Then what on earth possessed you to leave this house alone?" Mr. Weasley questioned. Harry had never seen Mr. Weasley angry before. and after this experience, he rather hoped he'd never see him angry again. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed, his lips pressed into a straight line. Gone was the compassionate twinkle in his eyes, the gentle laugh lines that surrounded his eyes and mouth. He looked as dangerous as Dumbledore.
He didn't know where he found the courage to do it, but he figured this must have been the moment of bravery the Sorting Hat put him into Gryffindor for. Harry stepped forward hesitantly. "It was my fault. I convinced Ron to go with me."
"Why?" Sirius questioned, with a careful hold on his voice.
"To." Harry hesitated. His excuse sounded ridiculous now, and he stared at his shoes as he finally uttered it. "To get my broomstick."
"His broomstick!" Sirius exploded immediately, flinging his hands in the air. "He went to get his bloody broomstick!" He stared at Harry angrily. "So it was your idea, then."
Harry felt his face growing hot, and a family surge of anger filling his veins. "Yeah. It was! I wasn't going to leave it up on the field where anyone could take it!"
"And you thought it was worth risking your life for?" Sirius shouted.
Surprisingly enough, it was Fred who stepped in. "Look, Mr. Black, Harry obviously didn't mean anything by it. We were up on that field earlier today, and Ron got hit with a Bludger. I'm sure Harry didn't mean to miss his broom."
"The broom is not the issue, Fred," Mr. Weasley said. He looked very tired, suddenly. He looked over to Sirius and Dumbledore. "Would one of you like to explain, or should I?"
Dumbledore shook his head graciously, suddenly appearing much calmer. "It involves the Ministry, Arthur. Why don't you explain." Sirius grunted his assent.
Mr. Weasley sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Harry, the reason you were brought here for the remainder of the summer holidays was. well. we know that Voldemort has been working with someone - a group of people, in fact - inside the Ministry of Magic."
Percy started. "Dad, that's top-level information! Are you -"
Mr. Weasley waved his hand for silence. "I'm sure," he answered Percy. "And I'm sure that everyone in this room is trustworthy." He turned back to the others, and especially Harry. "We had you brought here so that you would be ready to. well, to run, and at a moment's notice. Voldemort is no longer an abstract, Harry. Up until tonight, I thought you would understand that better than anyone." The disappointment was evident on his face, and Harry felt ashamed. "I guess I was wrong."
Mr. Weasley turned to his wife. "Molly, I'll leave it to you to discipline Ron and Ginny. I'm exhausted. I'm going to bed."
Mrs. Weasley kissed him good-night, and glared sternly at the three guilty teenagers as her husband staggered up the stairs. "Do you have any idea what you three did to us tonight?" she hissed. "Arthur popping home from work, frantic with worry, yelling to grab Harry and go straight to Hogwarts. and you three, missing! What were we supposed to think? What were we supposed to do?!"
Harry didn't know about Ron and Ginny, but he felt extremely confused. "What do you mean? We're going to Hogwarts now? Did something happen?"
Sirius studied them all, considerably calmer. "Yes, Harry, something happened," he said quietly. "Voldemort's first strike, it would appear."
"What?" Ron reeled as though he had been slapped. "What happened?"
"A bookstore on Diagon Alley, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore answered. He, too, appeared calmer. "The proprietor and several customers were killed an hour ago, while you, Harry, and Miss Weasley were up fetching Harry's broom. The Dark Mark was sent into the sky, and a message was left with the only surviving witness: that Harry Potter would be next." He paused, not for dramatics, but simply in exhaustion. "You're in danger, Harry," he stated simply.
"Voldemort hasn't just returned," Sirius added. "He's getting stronger. He didn't even bother waiting for nightfall. There was a reason behind this strike, and my best guess is that he thought Harry would be there."
"We don't know that," Percy argued, standing up straighter. "If they were after Harry. well, they probably would have attacked here."
"Unless they were aware of the defensive measures protecting this house," Sirius shot back. "Or they might have known he would be coming to Diagon Alley." He paused, glaring at Harry. "Of course, they may have just been trying to scare him. Did it work?"
"How can you say that?" Hermione whispered from the stairs. Her eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, but her cheeks were beginning to darken in anger. "Of course it worked! They're all scared! Look at them! And your yelling at them isn't helping anything!" She appeared frustrated and infuriated. "You're all being so completely narrow-minded! Why don't you just be quiet and listen to them, for God's sake!"
"Because this isn't a game, Hermione!" Sirius yelled back. He paused, obviously struggling to contain himself. "They put their lives on the line for a broomstick! It was an utterly stupid and selfish thing to do!"
"Well, fine!" Hermione shot back. "I agree! It was stupid, and it was certainly selfish, but standing here just yelling at them for an hour isn't going to change anything!"
"ENOUGH!" George finally bellowed. "I've had enough of the shouting, too. Why don't we all discuss this like adults?"
"Oh, that's rich coming from you, George," Mrs. Weasley muttered.
"Nevertheless, Molly, I believe your son has a point," Dumbledore said quietly. Harry was relieved to see that his usual demeanor seemed to have returned.
Harry stepped forward. "Mrs. Weasley, Sirius, Professor Dumbledore," he began. "I'm sorry. Really."
"We all are," Ginny added softly. She hadn't spoken a word since they had stepped inside, and Harry had almost forgot she was there. "We never should have gone out tonight."
"It won't happen again," Ron added hoarsely.
Mrs. Weasley scowled. "I should think not!" She glared at them for a moment, and then her expression softened. "I. we were so worried. I think it would be best if you all just went up to bed."
Dumbledore sighed. "Agreed."
Sirius hesitated. "I would like a private word with Harry first, Molly, if you don't mind." He glanced at Harry, who tried not to cringe with fear. "I'm done yelling," he added quietly.
"All right, then," Dumbledore said. He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Molly, I'm sorry about all of this. I do hope you're feeling better. I really must get back to Hogwarts now, but let me know if there is anything further I can do."
Mrs. Weasley smiled for the first time that night. "Thank you very much. I'm very glad you arrived so quickly. I was losing my mind!"
"One has a tendency to do that when one's children are in danger," Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. He patted her hand, and turned to Sirius. "Will you be following, then, when you're done?"
Sirius nodded. "I'll be along in a minute." He turned back to Harry. "A word, please?" Dumbledore Disapparated, and Sirius and Harry went into the kitchen.
As soon as they were alone, Sirius grabbed Harry and wrapped him in a fierce hug. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then he backed away, a look of embarrassment on his face. "Sorry," he muttered gruffly.
"Me, too." Harry was surprised. He'd never had a. well, a dad to hug him like that. He'd never had someone care that much about him before. "Really, Sirius, I know it was stupid. I swear I'll think more, okay?"
Sirius grinned wryly. "Thank you. You have no idea what that does for my peace of mind." The grin faded. "I was really, really worried tonight, Harry. All I kept thinking about was your parents. They. they trusted me to take care of you, Harry. And what if I messed up?" He shivered. "What if I found you. the way I found them?" His eyes stared past Harry, distant, and Harry shivered, too. But Sirius looked back at him quickly. "I'm sorry if I scared you out there."
Harry shrugged. "Nah. I mean." He grinned. "I guess. well, I sort of deserved it."
"'Sort of'?" Sirius cocked an eyebrow, staring down at his godson fondly. "So I guess you do like that broomstick, eh?"
Harry couldn't help it; he began to laugh. It was the last thing he'd expected Sirius to say. Sirius began to laugh too, and the two of them stood by the table, tears streaming down their faces, howling for no reason at all. Finally, they both quieted, and Harry was startled. The cold feeling he'd been carrying around all summer, all the bad memories of the year before - Cedric's death, Voldemort's rise, his parents' apparitions - it had all seemed to fade away a bit. He didn't feel quite so angry anymore.
"Thanks, Sirius," he said quietly. He grinned. "It's kind of nice to know someone worries about me that much, anyhow."
Sirius looked surprised, and then smiled. "Good." He sighed, and offered his hand. "Well, I hate to leave."
".but you have to," Harry finished as they shook. He stepped back, and Sirius stared at him for a long moment.
"I don't know when I'll see you again, Harry," he said quietly. "I'll try to make it soon, but you know how it is."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "I know."
Sirius smiled at him, and before their good-byes could become awkward, he Disapparated.
Harry leaned back against a chair. Sirius was gone. It might be another few months before he would see him again.
He realized he'd forgot to ask about his birthday present.
