Harry Potter and the Mysteries Within
Chapter Two – Journey to the Burrow
Running down a stone walled corridor… flaming torches everywhere. A solid black door approaching…running towards a solid black door. Stop for breath, but heat rising, must go on…fire everywhere, must go on…
Running again, faster than ever, closer and closer to the door, dancing orange light from the torches getting more and more intense…unbearable heat. The door flies open, banging hard against the stone wall of the corridor, so hard that stone falls to the floor, so hard that a draft extinguishes every torch. Running through pitch blackness… a red glow coming from the open door…running through darkness …closer and closer…and…through! Now a circular room, with doors on every available place on the wall… the room illuminated by four fiery red crosses on four of the doors… hit by a sudden coldness… familiar coldness… familiar surroundings…
A destination in mind…must press on… Running again, straight forward, straight to a marked doorway, through the door without it even opening, not stopping to think why… straight through to a room dancing with the glow of diamond shaped lights, full of ticking clocks, clocks of all shapes and sizes, all manors of different clocks, small and large, grandfather and wrist watches; and all telling the same time: 2.23am.
Running past a Bell Jar…a bell jar full of obvious power…an egg inside… breaking open; a humming bird hatching…and growing…and shrinking…and retreating into the sealing egg again…and then breaking open again… Can't stop, still running…into a man's body. A head too small to be real… a babies head on a mans body, laughing. Rocking back and forth, laughing in the most evil, cackling way imaginable, laughing at the boy before him… "You can't win, boy". He turned around then, needing to get away from the nightmare before him, but still needing to be somewhere else, not far from here…
Back through the clock-filled room where the time was now 2.21am…back through the solid wood door that didn't open, back to the circular, door ridden room…walls spinning…spinning…fiery streaks all around… Now slowing… slower… slower… stopped. He was running again now…straight ahead through another marked door. A different room now…dimly lit and rectangular…stone benches running down a story into a stone pit…a stone dais standing in the middle…an archway on top….a black veil moving slowly in a non-existent breeze…
The ghost of Sirius Black floating, half hidden through the black veil… The ghost of Sirius Black, looking up at Harry Potter with unblinking, empty eyes, mouth open in pain induced shock…
"Look at what you've done to me, Harry. Look at what you've done…"
Harry awoke the next morning in much the same way as he had nearly every morning for the past month and a half – drenched in sweat and shaking. Nearly every night since Sirius's death, Harry had had the same nightmare, and it never got easier to cope with. It never got easier, and Harry knew that he would never be able to forget the image of Sirius's face in that dream.
Rolling over onto his side with tears still fresh in his eyes, Harry wondered what Ron would make of him if he saw him like this. He would be spending the next few weeks in the same room as Ron. He had made his friends worry enough about him over the years, especially since the end of fourth year, and Harry didn't want them to know that he was suffering as much as he was. Harry had come to accept the nightmares as his punishment for leading his friends into danger and his godfather being murdered, but he didn't need the sympathy and attention that would come his way if other people knew.
Harry looked at his watch through the dim light of dawn. 5.37am. Knowing he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, Harry got up and went into the bathroom to shower and shave. Not having a father, only the sorry excuse for an uncle that he had, Harry had learnt the year before how to shave the hard way – the muggle way, and by himself.
Twenty minutes later Harry emerged from the bathroom feeling refreshed and ready for his journey to the Burrow later that day. But first, as was the same as every other morning this summer, Harry had a run to complete. Quickly drinking a glass of water before setting off, Harry ran his favourite route, which brought him half way around the small town that was Little Whinging and back again, in a little over an hour. The freedom that this offered was about the only thing that Harry would miss about living with his Aunt and Uncle.
By the time Harry got back to the house, it was a little after 7, and his Aunt and Uncle were sitting at the kitchen table. Uncle Vernon was studying a muggle newspaper, making sure to keep it emphatically raised, so as to block any sight of his nephew, whilst Aunt Petunia was sipping a cup of tea through her usual pursed lips.
As Harry entered the kitchen he knew what he had to say; he had been trying to word it properly in his mind during the run. He cleared his throat rather loudly, and when his Aunt and Uncle looked up at him, he began.
"I know your going to be very sorry to hear this, but I'm going to be leaving today."
After a moments silence in which Harry wondered if they had heard him at all, his Uncle spoke.
"Sorry to hear?" he said in an almost amused voice.
"Umm... yeah, well, anyway", Harry began, trying not to smile at what he was about to say. "Some people from the Order, some of whom you met at Kings Cross, are coming to get me at about –"
"WHAT! IF YOU THINK I AM ABOUT TO LET THOSE...THOSE FREAKS INTO MY HOME, THEN THINK AGAIN! THEY ARE NOT TO COME ANYWHERE NEAR ANY OF US! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Uncle Vernon had turned a rather impressive shade of beetroot purple after standing abruptly, overturning the chair he'd been sitting on, and was bellowing at Harry so loudly that Dudley had come running (if that was possible for a boy his size) down the stairs to see what Harry had done this time.
Aunt Petunia, after hurriedly rising and righting Vernon's chair, put a hand on her husbands shoulder, and he sat back down again, glaring at Harry.
"Is that clear boy?" he said rather more quietly, but nevertheless, still very obviously angry.
"Yeah sure, I just thought I'd let you know," and with that, Harry left the kitchen.
At a little after 11.30 that morning, Harry had finished packing his things into his Hogwarts trunk, and was lying on his bed, re-reading a letter that had been sent to him a couple of weeks ago.
Dear Harry,
I just thought I'd write to you more out of pure boredom than anything else. Yes that was a joke Harry, calm down!
How has your summer been so far? A bit of a silly question I know, what with you being with those horrid relatives of yours. But still, you could be having fun... getting a head start on your school work for next year... Ha! Another joke there, don't mind me (they don't call me Hermione you know).
Any way – I've been having a great time here, playing quidditch and the like. It's also been fun teasing Ron about my 'relationship' with Dean. He still hasn't twigged on that I made it up just to annoy him. After all, it's his own fault for meddling in my business, and besides, how thick can he get? Although I suppose I should tell him before the end of summer. I don't want Ron to get a black eye from Dean the first night back at school! Oh, I'm on a roll, don't slow me down now!
Percy is still not speaking to the family and is avoiding us at all costs. I don't think Ron would have told you that – he won't talk about him at all. Not that I blame him. I'd just love to give Percy a record breaking bat-bogey hex.
Have you heard from Neville or Luna? They have written to me a few times. I think they are both blind to their feelings for each other. And what about Ron and Hermione? They are blinder than Fudge was about... well I'll see if you know what I mean before I put it in words – IN LOVE!
Anyway, I'm going to have to go. Fred and George are eyeing me suspiciously. I'm so scared...NOT! I'll have to go and create a little mayhem of my own -- those two need taking down a peg or two.
See you (very) soon I hope,
Love,
Ginny
P.S. Congratulations on your 11 OWLs!
Harry had read this letter at least a dozen times since receiving it. It had been the first letter he had had from anyone that didn't mention Sirius or the events at the Department of Mysteries. In fact, Ginny had never mentioned what had happened in any of her letters to Harry, and he was extremely grateful for this. For a time, while he was reading a letter from, or writing a letter to Ginny, Harry felt like any other young wizard in the world, who's only worries were girls, grades, careers, and in the case of Hogwarts students, Snape.
He had no idea when he had begun to look forward to hearing from Ron's kid sister, but now that Harry had found someone who treated him as a normal person, and not the 'boy-who-lived' or the only wizard capable of defeating Voldemort, he had come to realise that she was very important to him. Just the way that she spoke, always getting straight to the point and always saying what was on her mind, rather than bottling it up, was one of the things that Harry admired about Ginny, and it was with the ease at which he found himself replying to her letters that often got Harry thinking…
Harry sighed. Even if he wanted to be with Ginny (which he most certainly didn't, he told himself), it just wasn't possible. He couldn't risk having a girlfriend. Besides always seeming to make girls he liked cry, if Voldemort or his Death Eaters ever found out that he was romantically involved, they would most certainly go after the girl in question. It was bad enough that Ginny was a Weasley. She was in enough danger as it was.
At noon, Harry decided to go and wait to be collected on the stairs, much like he had a couple of years ago. And just like that last time, Tonks and the others were late. Harry's aunt and uncle had taken Dudley away to buy him new clothes and video games, so he sat there, waiting, alone.
"We're not staying here if those...those..." Aunt Petunia had paused here to find the right word to describe 'those', "...backwards people are coming. Poor Duddikins would have a fit!"
And so Harry was left to wait on the stairs, all alone with nothing to do, other than count the number of diamonds in the leaded glass window next to the front door. Fifty-nine complete diamond shapes, with twenty-seven part-diamonds apparently...
Just as he thought that maybe the party of Order members had been blown up by a certain silver-handed, rat-faced traitor, Harry heard several pairs of feet walking up the gravel driveway of Number Four. As they reached the door, the group paused, and the unmistakable – if muffled – voice of Tonks could be heard, "Do we just go in, or do we have to knock?"
At that, Harry heard Mad-Eyed Moody say "Alohomora", and the front door opened slowly, to reveal two red-headed Weasley's and Kingsley Shacklebolt, along with Tonks and Moody.
"Alright there, Harry?" said Fred or George, as they both entered the house with the three adults behind.
"You're not telling me that you two are part of the Order now, are you?" Harry said, with a note of shocked amusement in his voice.
"Not telling you anything," Fred smiled.
"I thought you said he was smarter than average, Fred?" George asked.
"Rather thought he was, George," Fred countered, before they both turned and grinned at Harry.
"Contacts Harry, it's all about contacts. Being the owners of the fastest growing business in Diagon Alley means you get to meet many, many distinguished people."
"Dumbledore reckons we were a great addition to the Order."
"Been doing all sorts of important stuff, we have."
"Great addition...important stuff. Yeah, like staying out of the way!" Moody growled. Fred and George stepped back and Moody stepped forward to shake Harry's hand.
"Good to see you again Harry. Hanging in there?"
"Yeah thanks" Harry replied automatically.
"Harry," Kingsley nodded to him. All Harry could do was smile weakly in return.
"Sorry we're late, Harry. Tonks here 'accidentally' spilt the whole jar of floo powder we were going to use, so I had to go and fetch some more from Dumbledore's office." Moody said.
"Yes, well, we're here now, no harm done, right Fred, George?" Apparently Tonks had taken to amusing herself by joining forces with the Weasley twins, much to Moody's disdain. She was even sporting bright red hair to make the act even more impressive. This also made her look like the twin's older sister, and Harry couldn't help but think that the three of them together must be an unstoppable gag and prank reel, once started.
"So, is that how we're getting to the Burrow, by floo?" Harry asked. In reply, Kingsley pulled out an old newspaper from his cloak.
"No, we are going to use this Portkey. Only we can't do it in or near the house because of the wards, so we have to move to the alleyway on the next street so we aren't seen. And we have... seven minutes to get there, so we had best get moving," Kingsley said, looking at his watch.
Two minutes later, Fred & George had Harry's trunk between them, whilst Harry was carrying Hedwig inside her cage. Harry knew that they were heading to the alley where he had first seen Sirius three years ago. But he silently made a promise to himself that he wouldn't beat himself up every time he saw a reminder of his godfather.
The group made their way out of the house and down the street towards the alleyway, attracting many glances from the local muggles on the way: two men in sweeping black cloaks (one wearing a bowler hat), the red-headed twins struggling under the weight of a rather large trunk, another red-head in a deep purple cloak, and a boy in glasses carrying a snowy owl, who some of the locals knew to attend St. Brutus's.
'No wonder people are staring' Harry thought, although he didn't quite care – he was happy to be leaving this place and heading to his real family.
They reached the alleyway and Kingsley again pulled out the old newspaper.
"Five seconds to go," Moody said, and they all touched a piece of the paper.
"Three, two..." and before Moody could say 'one', Harry felt the familiar, unpleasant tug from behind his navel, and his whole body turned sharply to the left before he landed suddenly on his feet again.
Steadying himself, he opened his eyes to find himself on the vaguely familiar dirt-track that led up to the Burrow. But when Harry looked up, he felt his mouth open in shock and he instinctively reached for his wand.
For the Burrow was no longer there…
End of Chapter Two
A/N – any guesses to what happened to the Burrow? Please review and let me know what you think! Good or bad!
Ohnoes - thanks for the review, the plot gains speed quite a bit quite soon...
And thanks to Been and Nutty AL for their reviews!
- SG -