Well, this was a, erm… shall I say… well, I thought this was probably the most boring chapter I've written so far, but it provides a lot of details as to… er, nevermind, that would reveal, like, the entire plot if I finished that sentence. whistles innocently Here you have it, Chapter Four.
Chapter Four: Flight of the Weasleys
Stepping off the second bus they'd been on that day, Harry and Hermione took in the surrounding area, hoping to spot some sort of landmark that would aid them in getting to the Burrow.
"It's not in this town," Harry said suddenly, curiously reading a town map that was located on street corner nearby the bus station. "We're in Ottery St. Catchpole at the moment. Fred, or George, I have no clue who, said that they lived outside of this town. I have no clue how far, or in which direction.
Hermione groaned.
"Well, it's not like we have to be there by today, or anything. Besides, I'm sure we'd be able to see it, it's big enough," Harry defended.
"Hasn't it got a Protection Charm, to keep Muggles from seeing it?" Harry acknowledged this point with a nod. "Well, we'd better hurry then. I don't exactly want to sleep on the streets." Harry hadn't even thought of this.
Realizing that Hermione was hurrying off in a random direction, he ran after her in attempt to catch up with her. This didn't prove to be difficult; Harry had grown at least two more inches since their last meeting, putting him slightly less than a head taller than her, and meaning his legs were much longer and were much more adapted to longer strides than hers.
"Hermione, do you know where you're going?" Harry questioned, not wanting to get lost in the outskirts of the small village.
Hermione answered as if Harry's question was one of the stupidest she'd ever heard, "Of course I know where we're going, to the Burrow!"
"That's not what I meant," Harry groaned. "Do you know what direction you're going in? Because I really would not like to get lost, or anything."
"Well, until you tell me which direction I should be going in," she started, "which I suggest you do if you do know, I'm going to continue in the direction in which I am currently walking." She continued walking, not having stopped to answer Harry's question, and silence lingered between the two of them until they passed the town's border.
Once they crossed the border into territory that belonged to no specific town, Hermione began to talk to Harry again.
"Professor Dumbledore sent me to fetch you," she muttered, breaking the uncomfortably long silence.
"You've been in contact with Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, remembering last summer when his two best friends were hanging around Sirius's house with several other people he would've liked to be in the company of. And then he remembered Sirius, wondering if there was anything he could think or talk about that didn't somehow connect to his dead godfather.
"Well, not really," Hermione elucidated. "I was staying with my parents this summer, waiting until Mrs. Weasley would come to pick me up and bring me back to the Burrow. I was just sitting around, rather bored, actually, when someone rang the doorbell. I answered it and found Professor Dumbledore on my doorstep. Imagine that," she laughed. "Anyway, he told me that I should look for you in Little Whinging, he said that now that Voldemort's come back, he reckoned it wasn't safe for you to be hanging around in a Muggle neighborhood where there weren't any permanent Wizarding homes or anything. He told me to find you and to get ourselves to the Burrow as fast as possible." They turned unconsciously, and began to amble down a winding, narrow road that seemed to have no end point. "He said that if we didn't hurry, a Death Eater or maybe even Voldemort himself would find us and surely try to kill you."
Silence followed Hermione's speech, only broken by the shuffling of feet on the road (which caused an unusually enormous cloud of dirt to exploded from the groud), or the snapping of a tree branch under one of the two's feet.
After walking along the narrow dirt path that surely not even one car could squeeze onto for nearly a quarter of an hour, they stopped, recognizing a large structure that loomed in the distance. It seemed as though Hermione's instincts, as normal, were right on target. But something just didn't seem right about it; something was missing.
Wisps of smoke flew up into sky, and not just from the multiple chimneys. The Burrow was missing its normally friendly, cozy atmosphere, a feeling that was replaced by dread and worry as Harry and Hermione neared the building.
Breaking into a run, the two found themselves at the foot of an enormous mess: The Weasleys' house. What had happened wasn't so obvious at the moment, however, they could tell that someone had clearly wreaked much havoc on the place; the front of the house, on the first floor, had an enormous hole blown in it, with pieces of the wall inside. The place was a mess; the table in the kitchen was on its side, as though someone knocked it over. The couches in the living room were torn apart, leaving feathers all over the place. Pictures of Ron and the rest of the family hung lopsidedly as though someone merely threw them onto the wall, not caring how perfectly it was lined up.
The only good thing that could be said about this scene was that there was no Dark Mark hovering above the house. Ron and the rest of the Weasleys were okay, but obviously not present.
Following Harry into the Burrow, Hermione stepped into one of the larger holes that had been blown into the wall on the first floor. She found herself in the kitchen, where utensils and pots and pans lay scattered all over the floor. She hurried over to the wall in the living room, hoping that…
No. The clock had gone, along with the Weasleys. There was nothing left in the house that could give them a clue as to where their best friend and his family had gone off to.
Tears began to form in Hermione's eyes, and Harry wore a morose expression on his face. He turned from Hermione and ran up the stairs, opening and closing the doors as loud as possible, as if he hoped Ron or Mrs. Weasley or Ginny could hear him and would come out of hiding.
He knew Fred and George were most likely in Diagon Alley, in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, at the moment, possibly unaware of the current state of their home. Walking down the stairs, back onto the first floor, he stated, "Nothing, no one," as if Hermione couldn't have figured that out.
"Where could they have gone?" she whispered. "What happened? Ron didn't send me a letter about this… Did he tell you?"
Harry shook his head, leaning against the wall and sinking down to the floor, head in his hands. Almost immediately after, he raised his head and rose, running over to Hedwig's cage, which still stood outside with his trunk.
"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione inquired, as the lid of his trunk flew open, and articles of clothing and spare quills and ink bottles landed on the ground. Grasping a piece of parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle in his hand, he quickly began to scribble something on the paper.
"Sending Hedwig to find Ron," he said simply. Hermione looked shocked. "I know, I know, it's surprising for me to think of something that clever, I know, but–"
"No, Harry, you don't understand," Hermione said, lowering her voice as if someone was eavesdropping on their conversation, her eyes red from the tears she had cried minutes before. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea." Harry snorted. "No, seriously Harry! Please, listen! Look, it's obvious that someone messed up this house. What if it was a Death Eater, and what if they want something to do with the Weasleys?" Harry listened to Hermione as he tied the rolled up parchment to Hedwig's leg. "If you send something to Ron, and he sends back a letter revealing his location… What if a Death Eater intercepts Hedwig and reveals Ron's hiding spot? It's not a clever idea to send off Hedwig to get a response from him!" Harry's snowy owl was gone when she looked up.
"Quite right, Ms. Granger," a voice said from behind them. Hermione let out a shriek of surprise, and Harry quickly looked up, withdrawing his wand from his pocket. "I don't think you'll find that you'll need that, Mr. Potter."
Harry sighed. It was Professor Dumbledore walking toward them, not Lucius Malfoy, or Rodolphus Lestrange, or any of the other Death Eaters that had avoided capture at the Department of Mysteries last year. "Professor… You scared me. Us."
"Did I? I didn't think I was that scary, but if you say so," he commented. "Anyway, as Ms. Granger was saying, it would've been quite the better choice if you hadn't sent Hedwig off to find Ron."
"Well, do you know where the Weasleys are at the moment, Professor?" Harry asked, sounding rather annoyed.
"Yes, I do actually," Dumbledore answered, and heard sighs of relief from both of the students in front of him. Harry's heart felt as though it skipped a beat. Hermione showed a similar reaction.
"Where are they? Grimmauld Place? The Leaky Cauldron?" Hermione bombarded Dumbledore with the names of possible hiding places for the Weasleys.
Dumbedore merely chuckled. Harry's heart sank. He didn't want to ever set foot inside number twelve, Grimmauld place ever again. The memories he'd had with Sirius, ever since he'd learned the "escaped convict" was his godfather, would haunt him forever, more so when he resided in the house that belonged to his godfather.
"What happens to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, now that Sirius is… is, you know," Harry couldn't bear to say it. Tears welled in his eyes, but he was able to control them before they flooded his eyes and streamed down his cheeks.
"Ah, good question, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Unfortunately, I've got some bad news. Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, former headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, has been completely cleared out. Why? Because when Sirius passed through the veil and was pronounced dead last June, ownership also passed. To his cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. To complicate matters, Bellatrix, as you both probably know, is in Azkaban at the moment, probably plotting her escape as we speak. Thus, ownership was given to Rodolphus Lestrange, her husband. So now we know a Death Eater resides in number twelve, Grimmauld Place."
Harry's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe what he'd heard. The secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix had been given away to Death Eaters! This was outrageous! At least he didn't have to deal with Kreacher or Sirius's mother again.
"But that doesn't answer the question of where Ron is," Harry pointed out.
Dumbledore nodded. "Well, unfortunately, there are still Death Eaters lurking among us." Hermione immediately began combing the area. "No, Ms. Granger, probably not in this specific area, but free from prison. This means that any information passed must be as unspecific as possible. But first, let me fill you in on what happened to your friend, Mr. Weasley. I assume you both have been reading the Daily Prophet?"
Hermione nodded her head vigorously, but Harry shook his head, almost shamefully.
"That's quite alright Harry, let me tell you what has been going on in the Wizarding world. Why don't you sit down, this may take awhile." Obeying his Headmaster's orders, Harry took a seat on the bare ground, allowing Hermione to sit herself on his trunk.
The Hogwarts Headmaster continued. "So, as Ms. Granger apparently knows, the Death Eaters are back. They are searching for something very powerful. Four powerful jewels that will wreak havoc on both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds alike. They are known as the Jewels of Armageddon, although I believe that this is a misnomer; they won't cause Armageddon to happen, but something very terrible will happen if they are brought under the control of Voldemort and his faithful servants.
"However, the Death Eaters have only managed to find three of them. They've been searching for months now, anywhere that might hide this fourth Jewel. Unfortunately, it seems as though they saw the Burrow as a possible hiding place for it. Your poor friend and his family only had a few minutes' warning… I believe Mr. Weasley was able to pen a letter to you, Harry, although I don't believe you received it."
Harry's mind flashed back to earlier that day, as he and Hermione walked down Privet Drive, and heard Uncle Vernon shout, "OWL!" Assuming it was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, Harry disregarded then, but now began to think that this was Ron's letter.
"The Weasleys fled. They had nowhere to go, seeing as number twelve, Grimmauld Place might well be crawling with Death Eaters, and no inn accepted them, fearing they might bring the Death Eaters to their premises. Well, all inns except for one."
Hermione was quick to interrupt Dumbledore. "And which inn is this? And where is it? I bet it's one that very few people have heard of, so the Death Eaters would be able to find him."
"Right you are, again, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore continued. "Unfortunately, I can't reveal to you right now what the name of this inn is, just to be safe. You never know who can eavesdrop on you."
He offered out both of his hands to the students, Harry grabbing his right hand and his own trunk, Hermione his left hand and Hedwig's cage. Any Muggle who was watching would've sworn they saw the three people disappear, as if by magic.
Harry felt a curious sensation unlike any he'd ever felt before. He wasn't like Floo Powder, where he spun around incredibly fast, and felt dizzy at the end. It wasn't like the sensation he felt two summers ago when he traveled by Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup, which had pulled him by his navel. And it certainly didn't feel like flying on either a broom, a hippogriff, or a Thestral. The only this he could think of he describe the sensation was that he was pushed from his middle and lower back by something unknown, and so quickly that he felt as if he was about to topple over. Just as he reached the point when he was about to fall face-first onto the ground, the pressure from his back lifted, and he stopped.
Smiling, he thought to himself, Cool, I just Apparated.
A/N: Yes, I deliberately changed the sensation of Apparation, just because I wouldn't want any character to suffer the horrors of being stuffed through a pipe! cries Yeah.