Chapter Three - Back to the Burrow
"Harry!" cried a familiar voice from behind him. "Mind you keep a tight hold on that parchment!"
Harry turned around, and his jaw dropped. "Mrs. Weasley?" he said in disbelief. He stood up. No wonder the place in the window had looked so familiar- he was at the Burrow! And that very moment, Ron and Hermione bounded down the stairs.
"Harry!" they cried. Harry was exceptionally glad that Hermione did not throw her arms around him as she had done upon their reunion a year before, because it had been very difficult to breathe. Then they burst into a flurry of explanations.
"Dumbledore said he was going to get you-"
"We're just about to leave for Grimmauld Place-"
"What did you get on your O.W.L.s?"
Harry grinned. Unlike the last summer, he was overjoyed to see them, and now understood why Dumbledore had kept him at Privet Drive. However, their excited chatters and questions were cut off by Mrs. Weasley, who said, "Harry, you'd best be getting your things from Privet Drive. We're leaving for London in about half a moment."
Harry looked down at his parchment in confusion. "But it's gone blank," he said. "The window's closed."
Mrs. Weasley drew her wand impatiently. "Knew this would happen," she muttered irritably. "Reciprocus!"
"There you go, dear," she said, handing the parchment back to Harry, who discovered that the window had once again opened onto his bedroom at Privet Drive. He once again poked his finger inside the window. Moments later, he felt himself land with a thump on his bedroom floor.
He got up, gathered his things together and shoved them in his trunk. He found with exasperation that the parchment window had once again closed. "Reciprocus," he said angrily, and put the tip of his nose in the window, as both of his hands were full.
When he was back at the Burrow, he found not the excited chaos of before, but the whole house crowded around a letter. The huddle was murmuring. Slowly, people broke away from it. First Fred and George, who were now sporting dragonhide boots to go with their jackets, then Ginny, and then Ron and Hermione.
"What was that about?" Harry asked them.
"I dunno," said Ron. "That's why we left. 'S in code or something. Can't read it. But we're going to leave soon, bet you anything."
"We'd better get our things," said Hermione, exchanging glances with Ron. Harry was under the extremely uncomfortable impression that they knew something he didn't. Instead of following them up, he stood behind Mr. Weasley and tried to see the letter. He realized that Ron was right. It must've been in code, or some sort of indecipherable shorthand. It read:
ST SW MISn. TR? Please come quickly. P AT S sys rl-nt-am
Then Mrs. Weasley folded up the letter and stood up. She noticed Harry's bemused expression and said, "Not to worry, Harry dear, just Order business. We'll be getting off to London soon, so could you please tell Ron and Hermione that we're going? Fred and George will be Apparating."
Harry nodded. He had been around the adults of the Order of the Phoenix enough last summer to know that asking questions would hardly ever get him any answers. He raced upstairs.
"Find out anything?" asked Ron eagerly, knowing why Harry had stayed downstairs.
"No; the only part of it that I could read was the "please come quickly". The rest of it was about as distinguishable as Ancient Runes."
Hermione pursed her lips. She took Ancient Runes, and probably could have understood the entire thing had she tried hard enough, but she didn't say anything.
"Your mum says we've got to go soon, so you two better pack," said Harry hastily, so as to avoid a long discussion about the beauty of Ancient Runes.
***
Harry, Ron, and Hermione got downstairs late. Mrs. Weasley looked agitated. Something in that letter had been important. Very important indeed, why else would they be so rushed? Mrs. Weasley offered the familiar flowerpot filled with emerald green powder to Ginny, who tossed it into the fire and yelled, "Twelve Grimmauld Place!" before disappearing among the embers. Ron went next, then Hermione, then Harry, who removed his glasses before taking the powder. Once again he was spinning quickly, and moments later found himself forcefully tossed out of an all too familiar fireplace.
Harry put his glasses back on and stood up, brushing the soot off of him. A second later, Mrs. Weasley Apparated beside them, and with a loud popping noise, their trunks, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon's cages, and Crookshanks' carrying case appeared. She looked slightly frazzled and worried.
"Well, you all know where you're staying," she said. "Go on! Put your things away, then!"
As they trudged up the stairs with their trunks, Harry whispered, "What's she on about? Why's she all uptight?"
"I dunno," said Ron. "She's been like that all week. That letter's put her over the edge, I expect."
"We ought to ask Fred and George if they've got any more Extendable Ears," said Harry resignedly. He didn't know why, but there was something about that letter. most likely it had something to with him. But there was a burning curiosity inside him that he couldn't seem to suppress.
"Don't bother," answered Ron. "They're almost sold out. They've got five left, and they won't even give me a free one."
Harry chose to ignore this. He placed his trunk at the foot of one of the beds in the room and tore off down the hall toward Fred and George's room, but they weren't there. Would they have been allowed into the Order meetings by now? They were eighteen, overage, and had jobs. Harry ran off again to what had once been Sirius's mother's room, thinking that he could at least see Buckbeak. To his very great surprise, Fred and George were standing over Buckbeak, who seemed to be sporting a long, lolling, purple tongue.
"Thought you'd given up on those," said Harry, smiling slightly.
The twins jumped. "Scared us, Harry," said Fred.
"And 'course we haven't given up on them," added George. "Lee put up an ad for some of the old Wizard Wheezes, and now they're in high demand."
"We're just testing them to make sure we've got the formula right. And since Mum won't let us test them on Kreacher.."
"Ah," said Harry. "Er- I was wondering if you'd have any more Extendable Ears?"
"Sorry, Harry, we're all sold out," said Fred.
"If you'd like to know what's in that letter-"
"You may as well go downstairs and stand there-"
"I doubt they'll notice."
"You don't have any idea."
"Nope," said George. "Mum still won't let us into the meetings. 'Course, as we're overage, we could just walk in, but after Percy." The twins looked at each other and shuddered.
"No thanks," said Fred. "We'll stick to the Fred and George route.
"Anyway, Harry, if you want to know what they're saying, you may as well go downstairs and stick your head in there. They probably won't notice."
Harry nodded dejectedly. He had been expecting a better solution from Fred and George, and he didn't exactly want to waltz downstairs and stick his head in the discussion like he belonged. But anyway, how important could that letter have been? Probably not so important. But then why was Mrs. Weasley so hurried and uptight? Because. That's not a good answer. It was important, and you know it. Now go down there and listen!
At that very moment, something interrupted Harry's internal dilemma. The ancient front door had creaked open, and a tall thin figure stood in its frame. His long white beard nearly swept the ground, and his eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses which were perched above a very crooked nose.
That letter was important.
"Harry!" cried a familiar voice from behind him. "Mind you keep a tight hold on that parchment!"
Harry turned around, and his jaw dropped. "Mrs. Weasley?" he said in disbelief. He stood up. No wonder the place in the window had looked so familiar- he was at the Burrow! And that very moment, Ron and Hermione bounded down the stairs.
"Harry!" they cried. Harry was exceptionally glad that Hermione did not throw her arms around him as she had done upon their reunion a year before, because it had been very difficult to breathe. Then they burst into a flurry of explanations.
"Dumbledore said he was going to get you-"
"We're just about to leave for Grimmauld Place-"
"What did you get on your O.W.L.s?"
Harry grinned. Unlike the last summer, he was overjoyed to see them, and now understood why Dumbledore had kept him at Privet Drive. However, their excited chatters and questions were cut off by Mrs. Weasley, who said, "Harry, you'd best be getting your things from Privet Drive. We're leaving for London in about half a moment."
Harry looked down at his parchment in confusion. "But it's gone blank," he said. "The window's closed."
Mrs. Weasley drew her wand impatiently. "Knew this would happen," she muttered irritably. "Reciprocus!"
"There you go, dear," she said, handing the parchment back to Harry, who discovered that the window had once again opened onto his bedroom at Privet Drive. He once again poked his finger inside the window. Moments later, he felt himself land with a thump on his bedroom floor.
He got up, gathered his things together and shoved them in his trunk. He found with exasperation that the parchment window had once again closed. "Reciprocus," he said angrily, and put the tip of his nose in the window, as both of his hands were full.
When he was back at the Burrow, he found not the excited chaos of before, but the whole house crowded around a letter. The huddle was murmuring. Slowly, people broke away from it. First Fred and George, who were now sporting dragonhide boots to go with their jackets, then Ginny, and then Ron and Hermione.
"What was that about?" Harry asked them.
"I dunno," said Ron. "That's why we left. 'S in code or something. Can't read it. But we're going to leave soon, bet you anything."
"We'd better get our things," said Hermione, exchanging glances with Ron. Harry was under the extremely uncomfortable impression that they knew something he didn't. Instead of following them up, he stood behind Mr. Weasley and tried to see the letter. He realized that Ron was right. It must've been in code, or some sort of indecipherable shorthand. It read:
ST SW MISn. TR? Please come quickly. P AT S sys rl-nt-am
Then Mrs. Weasley folded up the letter and stood up. She noticed Harry's bemused expression and said, "Not to worry, Harry dear, just Order business. We'll be getting off to London soon, so could you please tell Ron and Hermione that we're going? Fred and George will be Apparating."
Harry nodded. He had been around the adults of the Order of the Phoenix enough last summer to know that asking questions would hardly ever get him any answers. He raced upstairs.
"Find out anything?" asked Ron eagerly, knowing why Harry had stayed downstairs.
"No; the only part of it that I could read was the "please come quickly". The rest of it was about as distinguishable as Ancient Runes."
Hermione pursed her lips. She took Ancient Runes, and probably could have understood the entire thing had she tried hard enough, but she didn't say anything.
"Your mum says we've got to go soon, so you two better pack," said Harry hastily, so as to avoid a long discussion about the beauty of Ancient Runes.
***
Harry, Ron, and Hermione got downstairs late. Mrs. Weasley looked agitated. Something in that letter had been important. Very important indeed, why else would they be so rushed? Mrs. Weasley offered the familiar flowerpot filled with emerald green powder to Ginny, who tossed it into the fire and yelled, "Twelve Grimmauld Place!" before disappearing among the embers. Ron went next, then Hermione, then Harry, who removed his glasses before taking the powder. Once again he was spinning quickly, and moments later found himself forcefully tossed out of an all too familiar fireplace.
Harry put his glasses back on and stood up, brushing the soot off of him. A second later, Mrs. Weasley Apparated beside them, and with a loud popping noise, their trunks, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon's cages, and Crookshanks' carrying case appeared. She looked slightly frazzled and worried.
"Well, you all know where you're staying," she said. "Go on! Put your things away, then!"
As they trudged up the stairs with their trunks, Harry whispered, "What's she on about? Why's she all uptight?"
"I dunno," said Ron. "She's been like that all week. That letter's put her over the edge, I expect."
"We ought to ask Fred and George if they've got any more Extendable Ears," said Harry resignedly. He didn't know why, but there was something about that letter. most likely it had something to with him. But there was a burning curiosity inside him that he couldn't seem to suppress.
"Don't bother," answered Ron. "They're almost sold out. They've got five left, and they won't even give me a free one."
Harry chose to ignore this. He placed his trunk at the foot of one of the beds in the room and tore off down the hall toward Fred and George's room, but they weren't there. Would they have been allowed into the Order meetings by now? They were eighteen, overage, and had jobs. Harry ran off again to what had once been Sirius's mother's room, thinking that he could at least see Buckbeak. To his very great surprise, Fred and George were standing over Buckbeak, who seemed to be sporting a long, lolling, purple tongue.
"Thought you'd given up on those," said Harry, smiling slightly.
The twins jumped. "Scared us, Harry," said Fred.
"And 'course we haven't given up on them," added George. "Lee put up an ad for some of the old Wizard Wheezes, and now they're in high demand."
"We're just testing them to make sure we've got the formula right. And since Mum won't let us test them on Kreacher.."
"Ah," said Harry. "Er- I was wondering if you'd have any more Extendable Ears?"
"Sorry, Harry, we're all sold out," said Fred.
"If you'd like to know what's in that letter-"
"You may as well go downstairs and stand there-"
"I doubt they'll notice."
"You don't have any idea."
"Nope," said George. "Mum still won't let us into the meetings. 'Course, as we're overage, we could just walk in, but after Percy." The twins looked at each other and shuddered.
"No thanks," said Fred. "We'll stick to the Fred and George route.
"Anyway, Harry, if you want to know what they're saying, you may as well go downstairs and stick your head in there. They probably won't notice."
Harry nodded dejectedly. He had been expecting a better solution from Fred and George, and he didn't exactly want to waltz downstairs and stick his head in the discussion like he belonged. But anyway, how important could that letter have been? Probably not so important. But then why was Mrs. Weasley so hurried and uptight? Because. That's not a good answer. It was important, and you know it. Now go down there and listen!
At that very moment, something interrupted Harry's internal dilemma. The ancient front door had creaked open, and a tall thin figure stood in its frame. His long white beard nearly swept the ground, and his eyes twinkled behind half-moon glasses which were perched above a very crooked nose.
That letter was important.