Chapter twelve
It was quite a long drive to Ottery St. Catchpole, wherever that was. But by the early afternoon, the car was pulling up to what Nell was assured was their interim destination.
Eyeing it, Nell wasn't sure that it was even structurally safe, let alone safe from vicious, vengeful wizards. It looked as though a demented toddler had been allowed a life-sized set of blocks and free rein to build without relying on the boundaries of gravity.
Mr. Weasley, the driver, turned around, and with apparent pride and not a trace of irony in his voice, said, "Welcome to our castle, Harry and Nell!"
They tumbled from the car, eager to stretch their legs and, at least in Harry's case, to explore. He had been gazing at the house in wide-eyed fascination since it had been in view, and Nell could see that he was itching to see the inside.
The front door was flung open and a mass of redheaded children scrambled out into the yard. They were shortly followed by a short, plump, kind-looking woman, also with red hair. The two boys skidded to a halt in front of Harry.
"Are you really Harry Potter?" the boy on the left exclaimed breathlessly.
The boy on the right had an identical expression on his face -- in fact, Nell noticed, an identical face.
The girl standing behind them shoved them out of the way, caught a glance at Harry, and just stared dumbly.
Uncertain with what to do with this kind of attention, Harry looked pleadingly at Nell. Mrs. Weasley caught the glance and called her brood to order.
"Fred! George! Ginny! Mind your manners. Yes, of course he's Harry Potter, but he's also your guest! Oh, and Harry, this is Ron. He's about your age. You'll probably be at Hogwarts together."
"Er, in Gryffindor House?" said Harry, pulling out the only fact about Hogwarts he knew.
It was apparently a successful gambit. Ron grinned. Harry smiled back.
Nell looked at Mrs. Weasley to share a look of amusement, but as soon as the other woman glanced at her, she exclaimed in shock. "Oh! What on earth did you do to yourself, dear?"
Nell looked at her inquiringly. Mrs. Weasley obligingly produced a small mirror. Nell winced. Both of her eyes were blacked -- it looked rather as though she had been brawling. "Oh, bloody -- er, there was a bit of an accident packing. The bruises must have just developed. I do hope the reporters didn't get pictures of me like this."
"Oh, you can count on the Prophet to take the most unflattering snaps possible," said Mr. Weasley in an amused tone.
The woman, who Nell assumed was Mrs. Weasley, whipped out her wand once more, this time pointing it directly at Nell. Before Nell had a chance to feel alarmed, Mrs. Weasley cast a quick spell, and Nell suddenly felt miles better. She still looked like a mile of bad road, she confirmed, looking in the mirror, but at least the headache was gone. She hadn't even realised how badly her head had hurt before Mrs. Weasley had made it stop.
"Oh, that's loads better," she said gratefully. "Thank you."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "You should really be more careful, dear."
Nell shot a quick glance at Dumbledore, but smiled genially at Mrs. Weasley. "Yes, I'm always so clumsy."
"Shall we go inside?" asked Mr. Weasley. "We can give Harry a tour, and I have a few questions for Miss Burton, if I may?"
Dumbledore suddenly looked amused, and Mrs. Weasley rather irritated. "Oh, honestly, Arthur," she muttered under her breath.
"Yeah, come on, Harry," said Ron. "I sleep at the top." The two boys raced off.
After Ron and Harry had rocketed through the house, examining every room, closely shadowed by Ginny, and occasionally accompanied by the twins, the whole group gathered in the kitchen. Nell saw Mrs. Weasley eyeing Harry's thin body before offering food. Nell nodded to herself; she thoroughly approved of fattening up Harry.
Of course, the food was warmly welcomed by everyone. Mr. Weasley kept asking Nell and Harry questions about Muggles; Nell was rather bemused, but answered as well as she could. At least, she did as well as she could to explain things to a man who talked about fellytones and ekeltricity.
As conversation rambled on, Mrs. Weasley was looking more and more as if she wanted to ask Nell something. Finally, at a break in the barrage of questions, she spoke up.
"Why -- forgive me if it's none of my business, dear -- why do you have Harry at all? I mean, are you related, or --? I'm sorry, it's terribly tactless, but aren't you rather young?" Mrs. Weasley had a look that was an odd cross of motherly concern and inquisitiveness, but Nell thought it was rather charming.
"Well, I didn't really have much of a choice, did I?" said Nell. "The way they treated him --" she cut herself off, aware that Harry might not want his new friend to hear all about the cupboard. She met the other woman's gaze.
Mrs. Weasley frowned mightily, then cut her eyes over to Ron. "Ron, dear, would you take Harry for a ride on your Shooting Star, please?"
Ron nodded. "All right, Mum." He looked at Harry appraisingly. "Ever flown on a broom before?"
Harry's eyes widened. "Nah," he said, folding his arms across his chest, "but I was on a flying motorbike."
Ron looked impressed. "Cool," he breathed.
The two boys dashed out of the kitchen, Ginny and the twins close behind them. Nell and Mrs. Weasley looked at each other in amusement.
"What did you mean by that? How did they treat him? How do you know?" asked Mrs. Weasley in concern.
"Oh, it was awful, Mrs. Weasley --"
"Molly, dear."
Nell nodded, then continued. "They kept him in the cupboard under the stairs and punished him whenever he showed any sign of magic. I came to mind him every so often, and it got so outrageous that I simply couldn't let him stay there. Mr. Dumbledore reckons that Harry put some kind of compulsion on me to take him away and adopt him, but really all I had to do was look at him. He's half-starved, for heaven's sake!" Nell had to look away and dab at her eyes when she finished, and Mr. Weasley edged a scarlet handkerchief her way.
Molly turned and started bustling furiously around the kitchen. Nell could hear half-coherent, muttered imprecations as the cutlery flew and pots clanked. When Molly seemed to be composed enough to talk once more, Nell cleared her throat.
Before she could say anything (luckily, as she had no idea what she could say), an owl flew in the window.
Mr. Weasley casually untied the parcel around its leg. Nell was sure that her mouth was open with astonishment. "Curiouser and curiouser," she muttered, amazed. The Weasleys politely ignored her shock. Mr. Weasley unfolded the paper and winced.
"There's another Prophet out," he said shortly, tossing the paper down on the table and crossing his arms.
HARRY POTTER KIDNAPPED BY FORCE, the headline blared. Below it was a picture of Nell, complete with two black eyes, her arm around Harry protectively. It did rather look as though Nell had just fought her way out of some kind of prison with the boy.
Nell watched the picture with fascination as her image raised her other arm as a shield from the flashbulbs. Picture Harry gave her a shy little wave.