CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Illusions
With the aid of several cups of strong, syrup-like coffee, Harry managed to stay awake long after Bill had gone up to bed. He was in the process of preparing a fifth when Mrs Weasley came into the kitchen, fully-dressed and with bright eyes.
"Harry! What on earth - ?"
Harry felt the need to explain some of the things that had happened since Ginny's tranquilisers had taken effect the evening before.
"Oh, how utterly typical!" exclaimed Mrs Weasley, when he had finished. "I might have known he'd run straight off to the Ministry without thinking! Where is everybody?"
"Asleep. Bill stayed up with Charlie until dawn, and then Ginny took over."
"Yes, I've been in to see them already. He's got a bit more colour this morning, which is more than I can say for you, Harry, dear. You look like you've seen your own ghost!"
Naturally Harry had omitted to apprise Mrs Weasley of what had passed between himself, Ron and Bill out on the patio, and the fact that Ginny had been up during the night as well, but he felt she had hit the nail on the head, rather. Having one's entire life's experiences and feelings played out over the course of ten hours had a similar effect to seeing one's own ghost, he imagined.
"I'm OK, Mrs Weasley, really," he began, reaching for the kettle to refill his coffee mug.
"Oh no you don't! I know what you're like, Harry. I've never known anyone like you for knocking back the caffeine, and that's a fact. It won't do you any good in the long run. Have a glass of water instead, and then get a few hours' sleep before Arthur comes back."
Harry started to appreciate how hard it must be for Ron and Bill to find the opportunity to satisfy their nicotine cravings without detection. He could just imagine the lecture their mother would give them if she knew they were still doing it. He could also see her reaction if she ever discovered that it wasn't always plain coffee in his mug -
"I'm not tired," he said, not altogether truthfully. Mr Weasley could be back at any time and Harry did not want to miss his news.
Mrs Weasley viewed him, thoughtfully. "I'll wake you the second he walks through the door," she said, as though she was reading his mind. "Sleep on the sofa in the next room if you like."
The numbness created by all the caffeine was already starting to wear off, and the extent of his own exhaustion suddenly hit Harry hard.
"Are you sure that - ?"
"Everything will be fine, dear, don't worry. You've been watching over us all night, and now it's your turn to rest."
She smiled fondly, and gave him a little push towards the lounge.
***
Harry sat on the edge of his bed in Ron's room, leafing through one of his many Quidditch books. He could hardly wait to get back to Hogwarts and start practising again, ready for the Slytherin match. Malfoy was screwed!
The sky outside had turned a horrible grey colour as clouds began to converge over the sun, and Harry shivered. He couldn't quite think why, since it had been lovely and warm just a moment or two ago, but the wind was blowing at Ron's curtains through the open window.
Harry rolled off the bed and walked towards the window to close it against the gale. He would have closed the curtains again and returned to his book if a movement down on the patio hadn't caught his attention.
His initial reaction was to grab his wand and stay hidden and silent, just in case. Crouching below the windowsill, he peered through a crack in the curtains, watching three of four dark figures approach the swing lounger. It had started to rain. A heavy, driving rain that made visibility poor. Harry opened the window and crept out onto the stairs, keeping his eyes on the patio.
By the time he had reached the bottom, and concealed himself behind Mr Weasley's car, the figures had aimed their wands at the lounger.
Somebody's in it! Harry thought, frantically. Desperately, he tried to run forward, but he couldn't move his legs. Something was hurting him, and it wasn't his scar. It was something deep inside him near his stomach. He felt horribly, horribly sick -
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A flash of green light blinded him before he knew what was happening, and a high-pitched scream struck terror into his heart. The figures vanished into the grey rain before he could point his wand to them.
Harry forced himself to move, breaking whatever bond it was that held him fast. He almost collapsed onto the lounger, panting wildly. He turned the limp, sodden body on the cushions over. A pair of lifeless, chocolate eyes stared blankly back at him.
Ginny! God, no! This can't be happening! NO!
He was trembling from head to foot so much that his brain was hurting from the motion. He felt unbelievably sick -
"Harry? HARRY!"
His eyes flew open.
A pair of wide, chocolate eyes, brilliant and very much alive, were gazing back at him, shining in fear and concern.
Ginny?
Her hands were on his shoulders, shaking him awake. She looked terrified.
"Harry! It's OK, you were dreaming. You're all right. Everything's all right."
Harry felt himself breathing hoarsely. His skin was covered in cold sweat, and his head was throbbing. Words failed him completely. All he could do was gaze back into Ginny's beautiful eyes and tell himself over and over again that she was alive and right beside him. He sank back onto the sofa. He gripped her hands tightly, and drew her closer to his face.
"My God!" he breathed, as her arms wound themselves around his neck, pulling his head against her warm breast. "Ginny!"
"It's all right," she said, soothingly, rocking him gently against her. She went on talking softly until he began to relax. He could feel her warmth, smell her perfume, even hear her heartbeat. A kiss pressed against his scar served to rid his mind and body of the last memories of the dream.
The sound of a door opening told him that they were no longer alone in the room.
"Ginny! Is he OK? What happened?"
"Harry? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," he croaked, raising his head from Ginny's embrace.
"Give him some air, Hermione! Let the man breathe!"
"Go and make a strong pot of coffee, someone."
"No! Not caffeine! He's had enough in the past twenty-four hours to floor an elephant. I'll go and get some water."
The door creaked again as Mrs Weasley disappeared back into the kitchen.
"OK, fine. Move over, Gin."
"Ron, no! Not that!"
"Hermione, trust me. It's only whisky."
"Exactly, that's what I'm afraid of."
Harry took the hip-flask Ron was holding out, and took a long gulp.
"Ron, I don't think this is a good idea - "
"Just trust me, OK?"
The liquid ran through Harry's system like fire, warming every nerve and sinew, shaking his head into a normal semblance of order. It felt so good -
"Honestly, Ron, what are you thinking? Why the hell didn't you tell me you still kept that stuff?"
"Because I knew you'd react like this! It's medicinal."
"Yeah, whatever. And don't think I can't smell the nicotine on you. You forgot to wash your hair, didn't you?"
Harry groaned aloud. "For the love of God, you two, don't start fighting again, please!"
Hermione rounded on him. "You knew he was still doing it, didn't you?"
"Leave Harry out of this, Hermione. He only found out last night."
"Just STOP IT, please!" yelled Ginny, glaring at all three of them with fiery eyes. "This is driving me crazy!"
Ron and Hermione fell silent, flooded with guilt at the sight of her despairing expression.
Ginny took a deep breath, and turned to Harry.
"Give me the flask."
"You're not going to tell Mum?" gaped Ron, incredulously.
Ginny ignored him, and took the flask from Harry's outstretched hand. Instead of taking it through to the kitchen, she walked straight up to Ron and pushed it into his back pocket.
"Ginny!" exclaimed Hermione, aghast.
"Promise me that you'll try and stay off it, Ron."
Brother and sister stared at each other for a few moments, relaying unspoken thoughts that the other two could not understand. Eventually Ron nodded, and pulled Ginny into a warm hug.
"And you - " continued Ginny, turning again to face Harry, " - can promise too. Try and stay off it, Harry. Please."
Harry would have promised her anything. He nodded.
"And as for you, " Ginny looked over at Hermione's horrified face. "You can promise to help them."
Instantly, Hermione's astonished eyes became sympathetic, and filled up with tears. She gave a yielding nod, before glancing at Ron.
"Sorry," he said, meekly. "I shouldn't have lied to you."
Hermione went briskly to him and wrapped her arms round his neck. He held her close, oblivious to the satisfied smiles on the other two faces in the room.
***
"Thank God for that," Ginny sighed, sitting down on the sofa beside Harry after Ron and Hermione had gone out.
Harry forced a smile, wondering how to voice his feelings at that particular moment.
"Gin?"
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry too."
"What for?"
"I should have stopped it."
"The drinking?"
"Yes. But I swear, it's nothing serious. Just to steady our nerves. You understand, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I know what you're going through, Harry. I know how hard it must be, and I hate it that you have to put up with it. But I'm glad you've got Ron. He's an idiot, but he's loyal and brave. He'd go into the worst danger with you, you know."
"I know. He knows he doesn't have to, but he's determined just the same. That's what makes him such a great guy."
"Harry?"
"Yes, Gin?"
She stared into his eyes with all the fervour he had observed in her before. So vital and strong. "I'm - I'm proud of you. I'd do anything to make your life easier, you know that, don't you?"
Harry's heart started pounding so hard against his ribcage that he felt sure she could hear it. "I know," he said. "Gin - you do trust me, don't you?"
"More than anyone." Her eyes flickered down to the floor. "You won't let it get out of hand, will you?"
He knew what she meant without her having to spell it out. "Never."
She smiled up at him so sweetly that Harry felt like his heart would burst. He put an arm round her shoulders and squeezed gently.
Raised voices in the kitchen and the sound of chairs scraping on the floor roused them from their sleepy moment of peace.
"Dad's back!" whispered Ginny, jumping to her feet and pulling Harry up with her. They rushed into the next room.
Mr Weasley was fending off anxious questions from every quarter, while Mrs Weasley was attempting to persuade him to sit down and drink some tea.
"SILENCE!" he bellowed, making the windows rattle and the chickens hurtle away in terror. Everyone shrank back in surprise. "That's better," he said, straightening his robes and settling down at the table. "Thankyou, Molly."
He sat like that for several minutes, sipping his tea, while everyone crowded around the table waiting eagerly for what he had to say.
"Well?" urged Ron.
"Well what?"
"What did the Ministry say?"
"The Ministry, as one might have expected, favoured dismissing the matter as a one-off, unfortunate incident which would be better left unpublicised and merely filed away for future reference."
"WHAT?"
"Dumbledore, on the other hand, has taken the matter much more seriously, I'm pleased to say, and we have spoken about it in some detail."
Harry's eyebrows rose. This didn't sound very promising.
"What did he say, Dad?" persisted Fred, nudging his father's arm.
Mr Weasley cleared his throat. "He is going to inform The Order immediately, and recall every member as soon as possible."
Groans of disappointment sounded around the little room.
"Oh no, we haven't got to go back to Grimmauld Place again, have we?" wailed George.
"No. Grimmauld Place is being watched closely by the enemy and it is unsafe to gather there any more after the events of last year. Instead, he is calling the members to a new venue where hopefully something can be decided upon. In the meantime, security spells are to be tightened on this house and there is to be no Apparation without cover; no travelling outside of this house without The Order's express permission; no communication either postal, personal or via the fireplaces with anyone who is not in this room at this moment, with the exception of myself; and above all, no tempers to be exhibited as regards these rules."
The room fell silent as the true meaning of his words began to sink in.
"Dumbledore really thinks it's that serious?" asked Bill, after a moment or two.
"I'm afraid so. We can't afford to take any chances. Obviously someone tracked Charlie all the way back from Russia with the intention of removing him permanently from the face of the globe. Perhaps he knew something, or they thought he knew something that they didn't want The Order hearing about. Luckily they failed, so he will be able to tell us why he was tracked when he has recovered. Until we know for sure, everyone, and I mean everyone, must obey ALL the rules I have just mentioned. Is that clear?"
There was a general nodding of heads.
"I suppose this means that Lee, Angelina, Alicia and Fleur won't be able to return to their homes?" said Mrs Weasley, anxiously.
"No, they won't. I'm sorry that you should be involved in this, ladies, and gentleman, but I'm sure you can appreciate the vital importance of the situation. This is very grave, and lives are at stake if we do not maintain security. Do you understand?"
More nodding.
Mr Weasley sighed. "The security spells are going to be tightened as of this evening. Some Order members are going to Apparate under strict cover to perform the spells, and then we might be able to relax a little."
"Does that mean Harry's party can go ahead?" asked Fred, eagerly.
"Of course. God knows we need to have some fun to take our minds off everything. But only after The Order has finished assessing the situation, all right?"
The twins agreed enthusiastically. Harry felt rather depressed all of a sudden. All the excitement he had been feeling a few days ago had vanished, and he didn't think he would be in the mood for a party for a long while yet.
"Is Sirius coming to do the spells?" he asked, hopefully.
Mr Weasley shrugged. "No idea. Perhaps. Anyway, the members will be with us in a couple of hours' time, so I suggest that we all have something to eat. What do you think, Molly?"
"Of course," said Mrs Weasley. "Come on girls, let's see what we can do."
Mr Weasley set his cup down heavily on the table. "And NOBODY is to leave this house, not even to go into the garden, until I say so. Bill, you and I should keep an eye out. Come on."