Harry was revolving very quickly; round and round. He peered through his tightly shut eyelids and saw flames everywhere. He could only feel the familiar warm tickle produced by Floo Powder when travelling. He squinted in the distance and saw many grates to wizarding fireplaces; but just as suddenly as they would appear, they would vanish again. Looking carefully, he saw he was hurtling towards one grate in particular- the Burrow.

His stomach clenched in anticipation as he prepared himself to stop. He tried to screw up his face, but he found his forehead had gone oddly numb. It was like having pins and needles in his face: a very peculiar sensation indeed. Then, to Harry's surprise, the numbness stopped and was replaced by a painful jolt as his scar began to sting. It felt like it was ripping his entire face in two! Harry let out a yell, and then remembered that his scar was usually trying to tell him something when it did this. Without warning, everything stopped.

Harry was no longer spinning: he was standing with his feet planted shakily on the…he looked down. There wasn't really a ground; just a solid bank of smoke he was supported on. He looked around wildly for the Weasleys. Harry peered over another ridge of smoke, and thought he heard someone.

"Ron? Fred? George? Ron! Come on, you guys, answer me!" he cried, suppressing a shudder.

This place was nowhere he had ever been before. Harry strained to listen to a faint groan, then a moan, topped off by such loud profanity that could only mean Ron was okay. The three Weasley boys waded slowly over to Harry, and for a moment just stood in a circle looking shocked at each other. Ron summed the situation up with another four-letter word, which, although he was reprimanded for saying it, was absolutely spot-on. Harry frowned and said,
"Where are we?"

Ron shook his head in bewilderment. Fred raised an eyebrow, answering,

"I don't know where we are, but I do know where we aren't. That's a start." George Weasley bit his lip, saying,

"Well, we aren't at the Dursley's, and we aren't at the Burrow. Obviously, we haven't fallen through some other wizarding fire, so we're somewhere in between." Harry nodded slowly, thinking hard.

"So…we must have stopped travelling. We are in…" Ron finished for him, blanching.

"The Floo Dimension." It was a statement, not a guess.

The boys looked around. Harry drew in a breath and the others just stared. They had been in the Floo Dimension before, and it had not looked like this. Whenever they were spinning, travelling through the Floo Dimenion to another grate, it had been like walking through fire- even though you couldn't feel the bright flames. Before they had stopped, everything had been all bright and hot, yellow and orange. Very much like a furnace. Now, as the three wizards explored their surroundings, the atmosphere was like something Harry had seen on television: a muggle substance called dry ice. Harry nodded to himself. All he could see in any direction, apart from Ron, Fred and George, was red and grey mist. It rolled in all directions and, although it looked soft enough, felt almost solid. George drew in a breath a whispered,

"Guys! Listen." He looked really scared. Fred's eyes widened, and Ron's jaw dropped in horror.

"Harry! Do you hear that? Who is it?" Harry frowned and shook his head slightly. He couldn't hear anything unusual. At the same time, his stomach began to lurch with dread. His head was swimming, and he was beginning to feel feverish. His scar began to feel funny again; not hurting, but numbness. Harry nodded faintly at his friends: he could hear something. He asked,

"Does it sound to you like a person? A girl whispering?" at this, Fred looked worried and took a step toward Harry.

"No…it was more like a whooshing sound, with a bit of buzzing." George nodded,

"It sounds like it's getting closer. Is that a good thing?"

Ron shook his head, bewildered.

"I really don't think we want to face this thing. Let's go!" George looked extremely worried and, his voice rising with fear, said,

"Which direction? We're lost. There's nowhere to run!"

At this point the whooshing sound the Weasleys were hearing was increasing in volume. It was getting nearer, and closing in fast. It was filling their ears, and they could feel their hearts jack-hammering in their chests. Harry cocked his head to one side.

"I still don't hear a whooshing. I hear a girl…she's saying something…" his scar began to hum and he listened with all his might. He recognised the voice. It was the girl from his dream! She was talking to him again, but…he was nowhere near her. It couldn't be…could it?

Harry…Harry? Listen, you have to trust me, Harry. Can you do that? I will help you. You are not safe here.

As Ron, Fred and George watched him, growing quite frantic thinking that Harry had gone crazy, Harry nodded and thought, 'I guess I'll have to trust you. Just help me!'

Ron drew out his wand motioned for the others to do the same. Fred was breathing quickly, drawing in deep, laboured breaths and darting his eyes from side to side. George was pivoting on the spot, staying on his guard and whispering prayers. Ron swore loudly and pointed up into the air, where a gap had been pushed between some banks of smoke. There, floating imperiously above their heads, was the Dark Mark. Harry looked up stared in horror, his stomach lurching. Harry was going to be sick-someone was coming. He could hear voices now…only a couple, but still they were dangerous. Harry stammered,

"W-w-what is it?"

The voice took over, commanding and urgent.

It doesn't matter. You are in trouble. Listen to me and act quickly. Take out your wand, and perform a point-me spell. That's it. Now turn to the East…good. Run in that direction until I tell you otherwise. Go!

Harry reasoned aloud with himself as he grabbed Ron, Fred and George.

"Be killed by Voldemort and lose my friends; listen to a nameless phantom of a girl who tells me how to get away. I'll take the Phantom."

He ran leading the Weasleys for a while, heading in the direction the Phantom told him to. Ron and the twins were following him, and were slowly getting calmer as the sound of whooshing death became farther away from them.

Stop. Rest here.

The voice was back. Harry halted in his tracks, and the Weasleys came crashing into him. Ron rubbed his head where it had hit Fred's shoulder.

"Harry, how did you know which way to come?"

George leaned back against an embankment, Fred coming to sit next to him as he said,

"Who cares? We're alive." Fred sighed,

"That qualifies as good. But we're still here, and not home. How do we get to the Burrow?"

Harry was feeling worried about this voice. As Ron had said in their second year; 'hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world'. Harry was going to share this information with Ron, but maybe later, when they were safe and in private.

Okay. You still need to get out of here and back to the Burrow. Do you have any Floo Powder left?

Harry started when the girl's voice came back, echoing and spectral as ever. He stammered,

"Uh, yeah, we do still have Floo Powder." Fred, George and Ron fell silent and stared at Harry, having a conversation with himself.

Excellent! Now, perform a Patronus spell to keep you safe as you travel back to the Burrow.

Harry was starting to hear a faint whooshing as he pulled his wand out again. He supposed this was the sound the Weasleys were hearing. Voldemort was coming back.

"Expecto Patronum!" cried Harry, thinking what a joy it will be to be with his friends on his birthday. He only hoped this happy thought would be enough. Judging by the enormous silver stag erupting from his wand, it was enough. Fred and George's mouths dropped in awe, while Ron whipped out his new wand also.

"Anything I can do, Harry?"

Get your friends to put their wand tips together.

"Er, okay," Harry said, resigned to the fact that they were going to think he was another Luna Lovegood.

"Let's put our wands together. Don't ask why, I just…have a feeling this could work."

Good. Now each take a pinch of Floo Powder, and hold it. You are going to perform a spell. The words are "Closus Porte", but don't do it until you have used the Floo Powder. Right after you have said, "The Burrow", all say the spell. Remember, "Closus Porte". This will close the grate after you are there. Good Luck.

Her last words were echoing in Harry's head as he repeated the instructions.

"Let's try using some more Floo Powder to get out of here. We still need to stop whatever that was getting back with us, so we should close the grate to your fireplace. I think the words are "Closus Porte".

Fred shook his head.

"Sounds like a plan to me, but we don't have nearly enough magic to close the grate. That's a very complex spell."

George nodded,

"True, but if we join our magic it shouldn't be too hard. That's why he told us to put our wands together- merged magic. Right, Harry?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. That phantom girl sure was clever. Harry pretended he knew what was going on and said,

"Uh-huh. That's it. Let's do it!"

At that, the boys yelled, "The Burrow!" and threw down their Floo Powder. Immediately after this action, they all performed the grate-sealing spell. The Closus Porte spell only took a few seconds to work, but Harry, Ron, Fred and George were well back in the Burrow's fireplace by that time. Ron supposed this was because they were already halfway home in the first place, so they didn't have very far to travel.

So, now do you trust me?

Harry heard in a relieved, tired, female voice.

Yes, he thought. Creepy as it is; I think I trust you. Thank you.