Chapter 23
"You'll have to go by the Floo Network," Professor McGonagall said, handing them each a handful of the green dust. Hermione sneezed unexpectedly, and wanted to wipe her nose, but knew that if she did she would simply get Floo powder all over her robes. Draco smiled at her. Ron threw his handful in and stepped into the crackling flames that erupted from the fireplace.
"The Burrow!" he said, and disappeared in a flurry of green flames. Harry stepped in next, and grimly invoked the same place as Ron, and went up in a flash of green.
McGonagall grabbed Hermione's arm before she could step into the fireplace.
"You two must be very careful," McGonagall warned, her eyes fixed on Draco's. "The Dark Lord is looking for the two you. I do not advise you go by Floo powder, but you cannot Disapparate off school grounds, and I am not permitted to create a Portkey for your usage."
Hermione looked at Draco, and they both nodded.
"Thank you, Professor," Draco replied gravely. "We shall take your warning to heart, and will return as soon as our business is finished."
"That would be best, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, casting a worried glance at the large grandfather clock in the corner of Dumbledore's office. "Now, hurry, before Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley become overly concerned about your welfare."
Hermione threw the floo powder into the fireplace, and stepped in, shouting,
"The Burrow!"
She felt a strange sensation, as if she were being flushed down the toilet, in a whirlwind motion that made her stomach lurch. She winced as her foot whacked someone's grate, and she shut her eyes tightly, willing the swirling motion to stop.
Finally, she lurched to stop, and fell coughing from the fire. Draco followed her moments later, a great deal of soot in his pale hair.
"Harry?" she called into the darkened house between hacking coughs. "Ron?" Then she saw the two of them standing to the side, strange looks on their faces.
"There is no one here," Ron said, clearly quite puzzled. "They couldn't be at the headquarters, could they?"
"It's possible, Ron," Hermione said reluctantly. "But since it was ransacked recently, I doubt they'd-"
"What if they're hurt?" Ron said, clearly panicked. "What if they're at St. Mungo's, and no one knows, because the Ministry is trying to keep all the attacks under wraps still?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said with a flippant roll of her eyes. "Fred and George are part of the Order, don't you think they would have contacted you and Ginny if something had happened?"
"What if they're hurt as well?" Harry asked solemnly.
"There isn't a very high chance of them all being hurt," Hermione said disdainfully. "Plus, George and Fred are always working, you know that. They scarcely have time for family, much less the Order."
"What's this Order thing?" Draco asked.
"We'll tell you later," Hermione said snappishly, turning back to Ron and Harry. Draco felt slightly affronted, but knew when it was best to let Hermione talk, and ask later.
"Do you think we should go to Headquarters and see if Dumbledore's there?" Ron asked worriedly.
"But what if there are still Death Eaters at the house, and that's why Dumbledore hasn't returned yet?" Hermione demanded angrily. "It could be a giant trap!"
"Hermione has a point, Ron," Harry said, looking at his best friend. "We should probably just return to school, and hope that your parents get back to us."
Suddenly, Draco felt a wand jabbing him between the shoulder blades, and someone said loudly,
"Don't move an inch, Malfoy!"
"Who's here with you?" the still anonymous person asked furiously, peeking out from behind the motionless Draco. Whoever it was lit up when they recognized the boys and girl who were standing in front of the fireplace, watching with horror.
"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said, running over to her youngest son and hugging him fiercely, forgetting all about Draco. "What on earth are you doing here? Why aren't you at school?"
"We came to check up on you and Dad, Mum!" Ron explained, hugging his plump mother back warmly. "We heard about the attack on the Headquarters, and we wanted to make sure you two were okay!"
"The attack on the Headquarters?" Molly Weasley said, not quite understanding what he was talking about. "What attack on the Headquarters?"
"What do you mean, what attack on the Headquarters?" Harry said, his anxiousness belied by his tapping foot.
"There hasn't been an attack on the Headquarters," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "I don't know where you got that idea!"
Ron turned deathly pale, his freckles sticking out horrendously.
"So," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "This can mean two things. Either Dumbledore lied to McGonagall, or even worse, he's been lead into a trap!"
"So, Mr. Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said fiercely. "What are you doing hanging around my son, you skulking dog!"
"He's with me," Hermione said smoothly, taking Draco's arm. "I vouch for him."
Mr. Weasley seemed as if he wanted to believe her, but something prevented him. "Harrumph," he snorted. "A Malfoy can't change its spots."
"Spots?" Draco said jokingly, looking at his arm. "Wasn't aware I had any." Draco was astutely uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to show it in front of the Weasleys, of all people.
"You better not hurt Hermione, you hear?" Mr. Weasley said dangerously once Hermione had turned away to help Mrs. Weasley with dinner. "That girl is like a daughter to me, and you'll have Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, and me, to answer to if you break her heart, you got it?"
Draco was tempted to push the well-meaning man away, but knew that he would feel the same way if in Mr. Weasley's position.
"I understand perfectly," Draco replied calmly, and then adding for an extra measure, "Sir."
"What should we do?" Harry asked Ron's parents as they sat around the dining table. "I mean, what if Dumbledore's in trouble? Something could be dreadfully wrong, and we'd have no idea."
"I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore is fine," Mr. Weasley said gruffly. "If anyone can take care of themselves, its Dumbledore."
"I think the children may have a point, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said fiercely. "And after supper, you're going to the Headquarters to check up on Dumbledore, you hear?"
Mr. Weasley sighed as if he found this to be rather tiresome, and after he finished his dinner, he Disapparated with a large crack!
The foursome hung out in Ron's small, but cozy room, waiting for Mr. Weasley to return. Ron saw Draco looking around the room with interest, and mistook it for scorn.
"Don't you dare say anything, Malfoy," Ron said dangerously. "Or I'll curse your ass-"
"You'll do nothing of the sort, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "I'm sure Draco means no harm."
"Actually, I thought your Chudley Cannons posters were bloody great," Draco said coolly. "I'm sorry to be such an object for suspicion."
Ron blushed. "Sorry, mate. It's just that-"
"I know," Draco said, looking at his feet. "I've been a jerk in the past, and I want to make it up to you. You guys have been nicer to me than any of my so-called Slytherin 'friends'."
"Us? Nice?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Draco, we haven't given you the time of day, and you call us nice? Your friends must really suck."
"They do," Draco said quietly. "You guys are so lucky to have each other."
Harry and Ron looked at each other quickly, and then back at Draco with their jaws set in determination.
"Well, Draco," Harry said. "We are. And since three is an odd number, it could be considered bad luck so-"
"We decided that you can hang with us whenever you want," Ron interrupted eagerly. "You're not as bad as we thought-"
"And you have a wicked good sense of humor," said Harry with a grin. "You have the real potential to be a fantastic Gryffindor. Not that you can change houses or anything, but-"
"You could always be an honorary Gryffindor!" Hermione said excitedly. "You don't have to hang around us in front of everyone."
"And once my parents get used to you," Ron said gleefully. "You can come hang here over break." He stopped himself, and flushed. "Well, I know it isn't what you're used to-"
"Ron, it's better than any mansion," Draco said with a smile. "Way better."
Suddenly, a crack came from down stairs. The four of them rushed down the rickety steps and into the living room. There they found Mr. Weasley shaking his head as if something terrible had happened.
"What's wrong?" Hermione begged as they rushed up.
He turned to look at them with tired eyes.
"He wasn't lying. Headquarters was broken into, but there was no sign of Albus, or anyone."
A/N: REVIEWWWW... please. I won't resort to threats or anything, but if you haven't reviewed in a while, oh please do... I'm dying...