Xenith
" 'THESE ARE MY FRIENDS. WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I WOULD DO ABOLUTLY ANYTHING FOR THEM?' 'EVEN IF IT MEANS DYING?' 'JUST SO RON AND HERMIONE COULD HAVE ONE MORE HAPPY NIGHT TOGETHER? YES, I'D DIE FOR THAT.' " ~~~Said by Harry later in this story.~~~
Chapter Six
Over the next few weeks Chris could be seen doing anything from blowing things up in her house to training dragons in the field behind it. The seemingly endless amount of dragons that her family seemed to be breeding ranged from as small as a chipmunk to as big as a Muggle car. The larger ones obviously weren't shoulder dragons but small guard dragons.
There were eleven people that lived in the Jameson house: her father (Hayde, who they'd only seem once), her, and her eight brothers: Timothy, Steven, Thomas, Brian, Adam, Bradley, Edward and Mathew (twins). With Timothy, the eldest at 24½ and down to Chris, sixteen.
--
Two days before the start of term at Timothy, Steve, Mat, Eddie, and Chris disappeared. Fred and George had seen Brad, Brian, Tom, and Adam running around frantically trying to get all their work done on time without their four siblings. The task was made even more difficult due to the fact that their father had left them for England's Ministry the week before.
But the Weasley twins didn't have much time to think about this, they were much too busy preparing for their final year at Hogwarts – what with their mother going through their trunks at every possible moment.
--
On September the first the Weasley's were at King's Cross Station standing in front of the hidden platform to the Hogwarts Express.
"You fir---" Mrs. Weasley began to say to Ron, but Ron had already torn through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, eager to see Harry and Hermione again. "You and George next." She said to Fred as they moved through to the Hogwarts Express. They loaded their Trunks into a compartment with Lee Jordan and leaned out of the window to kiss their mum good-bye.
"Bye mum!" Fred called out the window as the train began to pull away.
"Yeah mum! Don't worry we wont turn McGonagall's robes pink!"
"Don't you dare!" she called after them.
"What? I can't hear you!" George faked as they pulled faster and faster away.
--
When Harry Potter slid through hidden platform he was nearly knocked back through it by Ron.
"Harry!" Another bushy headed shape embraced him.
"Don't---" Harry pushed his two friends off of him. He cared so much for them, and Hogwarts, more then anything but after speaking with Dumbledore over the summer he couldn't be that close to them---he could barley go to Hogwarts knowing that all the wizarding community was depending upon him for their lives. Dumbledore hadn't said that but after hearing what Hagrid and Sirius and Mr. Weasley, and even Snape were doing for the Order, he didn't want to be there. He felt ill.
He didn't want to hurt anyone.
"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione prodded carefully.
"Nothing, just a tough summer. Thanks for the letters and the food though. The pies were great Mrs. Weasley." She'd just come through the barrier behind Fred and George. (Who immediately scampered off to the train, identical evil grins on their faces.)
"Oh you're welcome dear." She too embraced Harry. "Are you okay Harry?" She tried to brush a stray hair from his eyes but he flinched away from her hand. "Are those Muggles treating you right?"
"They're fine. _I'm_ fine." She didn't believe a word of it.
"We're going on the train now mum." Ron pulled Harry and Hermione away from his mother.
They deposited their things in an empty compartment at the back of the train, and bid good-bye to Mrs. Weasley through the window. And Ron and Hermione settled into seats next to one another while Harry stood at the open window letting the bitter cold air whip at his skin.
"You're a terrible liar Harry." Hermione said quietly behind him. "What's wrong?"
"You can trust us Harry, really." Ron added. "We think we know what might be bothering you---"
"You couldn't possibly imagine." Harry mumbled into the wind. His skin was beginning to burn from the exposure.
"Look at us Harry." He didn't turn.
"We won't let you fester like this, it isn't healthy."
"Neither is dying." Harry turned to them. His face was red and his glare was so fierce and sad at the same time that it made Hermione want to cry.
"No-one's going to die Harry."
"You're kidding yourself if you believe that." Harry let out a harsh tight-lipped laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "People are already dying. Or don't you remember Cedric? . . . .I sure as hell do." He turned back to the window.
"Come on Harry—--" Ron pled.
"'Come on' what Ron?" Harry snapped slamming the train window shut. "What do you want me to do? Sit around pretending everything's alright and that no-one's in any danger at all? You two may be able to sit and do nothing but I can't!"
"Oh Harry---" Hermione began.
"Oh no you don't Hermione. Don't you start. I don't need your pity. I don't know why I even told you any of this in the first place." He threw his arms in the air and stormed out of the compartment.
"Harry, don't run away from this!" she shouted out the compartment as Harry disappeared into the students that had swarmed the corridor.
"Come on Herm." Ron pushed past her.
"Where are you going?"
"To get him. Damn it---"
"Language Ron." He chose to ignore her.
"Where did that prat go now?" Ron exclaimed vehemently, pushing a small first year boy out of his way as he made down through the tiny space. Making his way through the small group of children his eyes scanned the, now empty, train passageway. "If that kid disappears on me once more this year I'm going to pound him." Ron growled as they passed into the adjacent train carriage.
"Don't say that Ron." Hermione reprimanded as they entered the, strangely silent, next carriage.
"Well I will. Running off on us! Honestly, what good does he possibly think can come from something like that? We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him."
"He's not a child Ron. He can take care of himself you know.
"Well we're also supposed to be his friends. His BEST friends. And he's never kept anything from us before---"
"Well we aren't going to be able to make him tell us anything anyway. And hush Ron, we're in the Prefects area."
"You're a Prefect. Why didn't you sit over here?"
"Because I wanted to sit with you and Harry. Now come on. He's got to be around here someplace."
//Oh crap.// Harry thought to himself as he pushed his way through a group of giggling first year girls. //I just pushed away the only two people I actually care about. But then if they aren't my friends anymore then they'll be safe. Right?// he moved though the train past door after door of happy excited students.
//No they won't.// a little voice in the back of his head pushed in. //They'll only be in slightly less danger then they are already in.// //Slightly less is better then nothing.// he thought back.
//Even if you somehow managed to talk them out of standing by you to the very end it would never work. And do you know how that would affect you? Having them gone? You'd be miserable is what.//
//I can live with miserable but I wouldn't ever be able to live with everyone I know dead.// He thought vehemently at the sensible portion of his brain.
"Bullocks." He muttered aloud to himself, letting his head fall into his hands.
"Harry?" Hermione said quietly, sliding open the compartment door.
"There you are!" Ron collapsed into the seat next to him.
"Ron---" Harry sighed.
"No, guess who might be captaining The Cannons this year?" He and Hermione had decided not to prod Harry any further---for the time being.
"Who?"
"Oliver!
The talk from then on was completely Quidditch orientated.
--
Fred and George climbed out of the horseless carriage and headed up to Hogwarts for their final year of schooling; gazing up at Hogwarts, the sun setting beautifully behind the castle. The twins followed Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson up the granite stairs and into the Entrance Hall. (Angelina looping her arm with Fred's.) The rest of the school streamed in around them as they sat in their usual seats, middle of the Gryffindor table.
The Hall went quiet as Professor McGonagall and the tattered old Sorting Hat led in the first years. ('Is it just me,' George hissed at Fred. 'Or are there a lot less of'em this year?') She set the hat on the rickety three-legged stool and the flap at the brim opened wide as it began to sing.
'I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
I peek inside your head!
I see you're smart
And good of heart—'
And at that moment the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open and, none other than, Christopher Jameson tore inside followed closely by a much more discreet Mathew (taking the round-about way on the outer edge of the Hall).
The sleeves of her black shirt and the green of her tunic were billowing behind her blurred figure as she zipped past the entirety of Hogwarts. Her flyaway dark hair danced crazily around her head as she stumbled up to the teachers' table. She was nearly there when Fred and George saw the three dragons that had swooped in after her brother. Chris's black Feather in the lead. There was a small indigo and a larger electric green in its wake.
"I'm so sorry Albus." Fred heard her hiss to Professor Dumbledore. "_Mat_ lost Andromeda in the South Tower and we had to go look for him."
"I didn't loose him." Mat said as he came upon the head table, his own Blue snoozing on his shoulder. "He's the worst trained of them all. The worm just got away."
"Quite alright." Dumbledore broke in before they had a chance to argue any further. "Just take a seat and after the Sorting everything will be explained." She nodded in reply and turned around. It was just then that Chris seemed to realise that the Hat hadn't stopped singing and that nearly every pair of eyes in the hall were locked upon her brother and herself. (though Mat had already managed into his seat without much notice.) 'Sorry.' She mouthed to them and took her place at the staff table next to her elder sibling.
By this time the Sorting Hat had finished its song and Professor McGonagall had begun reading off the first students.
"Adams, Keith!" she read in which the hat roared: "GRYFFINDOR!" the instant it touched his head and continued through "Williams, Samuel!" (Hufflepuff).
"Good!" Dumbledore began with an obviously forced smile. "Another year, another class, and another teacher."
"Professor Figg has joined us as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a light smattering of applause. "Now for the feast." The golden platters filled themselves with a wave of Dumbledore's frail hands, and the students burst into robust conversation.
"Why's Chris here?" George hissed down the table to Fred as he piled food onto his plate. "And Mat."
"No idea." Fred answered.
"And Chris would be who?" Lee asked bring his meat to his mouth.
"The girl." George replied, looking up to the head table; Chris was seated between Professor McGonagall and Mat. Feather was resting calmly on her shoulder while Chris was desperately trying to keep the indigo away from the Professor---with no help from her sibling.
She failed miserably though as the indigo pounced onto McGonagall's plate of chicken. She whistled sharply, sparks flying beneath her dark eyes. The dragon stopped immediately. She continued the whistles and squeaks until it had climbed from McGonagall's plate and sat itself beside the red and next to her dish, delicately roasting the remainder of her meat. She sighed heavily and rested her head on her arms.
"Well," Dumbledore stood again. "This," Professor McGonagall nudged Chris; she jumped to her feet causing Feather to dig his claws into her shoulder. She didn't wince though and Dumbledore chuckled. "Is Christopher Jameson. You may see her family here occasionally. They are setting up a new security system in and around the school and the grounds. Periodically throughout the year there will be a number of other visiting wizards and witches. I expect you to treat them with your utmost respect."
The dinner plates cleared and the students began their way to their separate dormitories.
Fred, George, and Lee made their way eagerly to their rooms, actually looking forward to their first round of classes.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
" 'THESE ARE MY FRIENDS. WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I WOULD DO ABOLUTLY ANYTHING FOR THEM?' 'EVEN IF IT MEANS DYING?' 'JUST SO RON AND HERMIONE COULD HAVE ONE MORE HAPPY NIGHT TOGETHER? YES, I'D DIE FOR THAT.' " ~~~Said by Harry later in this story.~~~
Chapter Six
Over the next few weeks Chris could be seen doing anything from blowing things up in her house to training dragons in the field behind it. The seemingly endless amount of dragons that her family seemed to be breeding ranged from as small as a chipmunk to as big as a Muggle car. The larger ones obviously weren't shoulder dragons but small guard dragons.
There were eleven people that lived in the Jameson house: her father (Hayde, who they'd only seem once), her, and her eight brothers: Timothy, Steven, Thomas, Brian, Adam, Bradley, Edward and Mathew (twins). With Timothy, the eldest at 24½ and down to Chris, sixteen.
--
Two days before the start of term at Timothy, Steve, Mat, Eddie, and Chris disappeared. Fred and George had seen Brad, Brian, Tom, and Adam running around frantically trying to get all their work done on time without their four siblings. The task was made even more difficult due to the fact that their father had left them for England's Ministry the week before.
But the Weasley twins didn't have much time to think about this, they were much too busy preparing for their final year at Hogwarts – what with their mother going through their trunks at every possible moment.
--
On September the first the Weasley's were at King's Cross Station standing in front of the hidden platform to the Hogwarts Express.
"You fir---" Mrs. Weasley began to say to Ron, but Ron had already torn through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾, eager to see Harry and Hermione again. "You and George next." She said to Fred as they moved through to the Hogwarts Express. They loaded their Trunks into a compartment with Lee Jordan and leaned out of the window to kiss their mum good-bye.
"Bye mum!" Fred called out the window as the train began to pull away.
"Yeah mum! Don't worry we wont turn McGonagall's robes pink!"
"Don't you dare!" she called after them.
"What? I can't hear you!" George faked as they pulled faster and faster away.
--
When Harry Potter slid through hidden platform he was nearly knocked back through it by Ron.
"Harry!" Another bushy headed shape embraced him.
"Don't---" Harry pushed his two friends off of him. He cared so much for them, and Hogwarts, more then anything but after speaking with Dumbledore over the summer he couldn't be that close to them---he could barley go to Hogwarts knowing that all the wizarding community was depending upon him for their lives. Dumbledore hadn't said that but after hearing what Hagrid and Sirius and Mr. Weasley, and even Snape were doing for the Order, he didn't want to be there. He felt ill.
He didn't want to hurt anyone.
"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione prodded carefully.
"Nothing, just a tough summer. Thanks for the letters and the food though. The pies were great Mrs. Weasley." She'd just come through the barrier behind Fred and George. (Who immediately scampered off to the train, identical evil grins on their faces.)
"Oh you're welcome dear." She too embraced Harry. "Are you okay Harry?" She tried to brush a stray hair from his eyes but he flinched away from her hand. "Are those Muggles treating you right?"
"They're fine. _I'm_ fine." She didn't believe a word of it.
"We're going on the train now mum." Ron pulled Harry and Hermione away from his mother.
They deposited their things in an empty compartment at the back of the train, and bid good-bye to Mrs. Weasley through the window. And Ron and Hermione settled into seats next to one another while Harry stood at the open window letting the bitter cold air whip at his skin.
"You're a terrible liar Harry." Hermione said quietly behind him. "What's wrong?"
"You can trust us Harry, really." Ron added. "We think we know what might be bothering you---"
"You couldn't possibly imagine." Harry mumbled into the wind. His skin was beginning to burn from the exposure.
"Look at us Harry." He didn't turn.
"We won't let you fester like this, it isn't healthy."
"Neither is dying." Harry turned to them. His face was red and his glare was so fierce and sad at the same time that it made Hermione want to cry.
"No-one's going to die Harry."
"You're kidding yourself if you believe that." Harry let out a harsh tight-lipped laugh that didn't reach his eyes. "People are already dying. Or don't you remember Cedric? . . . .I sure as hell do." He turned back to the window.
"Come on Harry—--" Ron pled.
"'Come on' what Ron?" Harry snapped slamming the train window shut. "What do you want me to do? Sit around pretending everything's alright and that no-one's in any danger at all? You two may be able to sit and do nothing but I can't!"
"Oh Harry---" Hermione began.
"Oh no you don't Hermione. Don't you start. I don't need your pity. I don't know why I even told you any of this in the first place." He threw his arms in the air and stormed out of the compartment.
"Harry, don't run away from this!" she shouted out the compartment as Harry disappeared into the students that had swarmed the corridor.
"Come on Herm." Ron pushed past her.
"Where are you going?"
"To get him. Damn it---"
"Language Ron." He chose to ignore her.
"Where did that prat go now?" Ron exclaimed vehemently, pushing a small first year boy out of his way as he made down through the tiny space. Making his way through the small group of children his eyes scanned the, now empty, train passageway. "If that kid disappears on me once more this year I'm going to pound him." Ron growled as they passed into the adjacent train carriage.
"Don't say that Ron." Hermione reprimanded as they entered the, strangely silent, next carriage.
"Well I will. Running off on us! Honestly, what good does he possibly think can come from something like that? We're supposed to be keeping an eye on him."
"He's not a child Ron. He can take care of himself you know.
"Well we're also supposed to be his friends. His BEST friends. And he's never kept anything from us before---"
"Well we aren't going to be able to make him tell us anything anyway. And hush Ron, we're in the Prefects area."
"You're a Prefect. Why didn't you sit over here?"
"Because I wanted to sit with you and Harry. Now come on. He's got to be around here someplace."
//Oh crap.// Harry thought to himself as he pushed his way through a group of giggling first year girls. //I just pushed away the only two people I actually care about. But then if they aren't my friends anymore then they'll be safe. Right?// he moved though the train past door after door of happy excited students.
//No they won't.// a little voice in the back of his head pushed in. //They'll only be in slightly less danger then they are already in.// //Slightly less is better then nothing.// he thought back.
//Even if you somehow managed to talk them out of standing by you to the very end it would never work. And do you know how that would affect you? Having them gone? You'd be miserable is what.//
//I can live with miserable but I wouldn't ever be able to live with everyone I know dead.// He thought vehemently at the sensible portion of his brain.
"Bullocks." He muttered aloud to himself, letting his head fall into his hands.
"Harry?" Hermione said quietly, sliding open the compartment door.
"There you are!" Ron collapsed into the seat next to him.
"Ron---" Harry sighed.
"No, guess who might be captaining The Cannons this year?" He and Hermione had decided not to prod Harry any further---for the time being.
"Who?"
"Oliver!
The talk from then on was completely Quidditch orientated.
--
Fred and George climbed out of the horseless carriage and headed up to Hogwarts for their final year of schooling; gazing up at Hogwarts, the sun setting beautifully behind the castle. The twins followed Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson up the granite stairs and into the Entrance Hall. (Angelina looping her arm with Fred's.) The rest of the school streamed in around them as they sat in their usual seats, middle of the Gryffindor table.
The Hall went quiet as Professor McGonagall and the tattered old Sorting Hat led in the first years. ('Is it just me,' George hissed at Fred. 'Or are there a lot less of'em this year?') She set the hat on the rickety three-legged stool and the flap at the brim opened wide as it began to sing.
'I am the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
I peek inside your head!
I see you're smart
And good of heart—'
And at that moment the doors to the Great Hall were thrown open and, none other than, Christopher Jameson tore inside followed closely by a much more discreet Mathew (taking the round-about way on the outer edge of the Hall).
The sleeves of her black shirt and the green of her tunic were billowing behind her blurred figure as she zipped past the entirety of Hogwarts. Her flyaway dark hair danced crazily around her head as she stumbled up to the teachers' table. She was nearly there when Fred and George saw the three dragons that had swooped in after her brother. Chris's black Feather in the lead. There was a small indigo and a larger electric green in its wake.
"I'm so sorry Albus." Fred heard her hiss to Professor Dumbledore. "_Mat_ lost Andromeda in the South Tower and we had to go look for him."
"I didn't loose him." Mat said as he came upon the head table, his own Blue snoozing on his shoulder. "He's the worst trained of them all. The worm just got away."
"Quite alright." Dumbledore broke in before they had a chance to argue any further. "Just take a seat and after the Sorting everything will be explained." She nodded in reply and turned around. It was just then that Chris seemed to realise that the Hat hadn't stopped singing and that nearly every pair of eyes in the hall were locked upon her brother and herself. (though Mat had already managed into his seat without much notice.) 'Sorry.' She mouthed to them and took her place at the staff table next to her elder sibling.
By this time the Sorting Hat had finished its song and Professor McGonagall had begun reading off the first students.
"Adams, Keith!" she read in which the hat roared: "GRYFFINDOR!" the instant it touched his head and continued through "Williams, Samuel!" (Hufflepuff).
"Good!" Dumbledore began with an obviously forced smile. "Another year, another class, and another teacher."
"Professor Figg has joined us as our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." There was a light smattering of applause. "Now for the feast." The golden platters filled themselves with a wave of Dumbledore's frail hands, and the students burst into robust conversation.
"Why's Chris here?" George hissed down the table to Fred as he piled food onto his plate. "And Mat."
"No idea." Fred answered.
"And Chris would be who?" Lee asked bring his meat to his mouth.
"The girl." George replied, looking up to the head table; Chris was seated between Professor McGonagall and Mat. Feather was resting calmly on her shoulder while Chris was desperately trying to keep the indigo away from the Professor---with no help from her sibling.
She failed miserably though as the indigo pounced onto McGonagall's plate of chicken. She whistled sharply, sparks flying beneath her dark eyes. The dragon stopped immediately. She continued the whistles and squeaks until it had climbed from McGonagall's plate and sat itself beside the red and next to her dish, delicately roasting the remainder of her meat. She sighed heavily and rested her head on her arms.
"Well," Dumbledore stood again. "This," Professor McGonagall nudged Chris; she jumped to her feet causing Feather to dig his claws into her shoulder. She didn't wince though and Dumbledore chuckled. "Is Christopher Jameson. You may see her family here occasionally. They are setting up a new security system in and around the school and the grounds. Periodically throughout the year there will be a number of other visiting wizards and witches. I expect you to treat them with your utmost respect."
The dinner plates cleared and the students began their way to their separate dormitories.
Fred, George, and Lee made their way eagerly to their rooms, actually looking forward to their first round of classes.
--
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*