Chap 8 – One by Owl, Two by Floo
"Move out."
At Kingsley Shacklebolt's order, the group formed a tight circle around Hermione and began to make their way out of the alley into the adjoining roadway. Even though the morning rush should have just begun to wind down, the street was eerily deserted. Still the group stopped just past the corner.
Kingsley raised his hand and signaled for the team to spread out; two went left, another two to the right and one across the street leaving Hermione and the twins to await their signal.
As soon as the auror who had crossed the road was out of sight to the left a blast of red light filled up the street.
"Death Eaters!"
"Bollocks," spat Kingsley as he turned to face the others. "Okay, I want the two of you to get her to one of the public floo stops, The Leaky Cauldron or something and from there, back home. Go. Now!" With the new orders given, he rushed into the fray to help his team.
"Come on," George said. He grabbed at Hermione's arm and led them down the right side of the road, away from the fighting.
Empty store windows and dirty doorways streamed by as they kept running. Crossing the road they turned into another alley which ended with a solid wall.
"It's a dead end," whispered Hermione.
"Shh. We know the way in," Fred whispered back. With his wand, he tapped the center brick, another up two and three to the left, and from there down four and one to the right. George did the same, in reverse.
The stones shook and wiggled in place then they began to fold back on themselves until there was a hole large enough to pass through. Once all three were through the hole closed up and they found they were in yet another alley.
"Keep moving," said Fred who was now in the lead. They wound their way through a labyrinth of crates and boxes and rubbish bins; about a dozen yards from the dead end they turned to a door.
"Mischief Masters," the twins said together. Behind the door there was a long series of bolts and locks clicking until the door opened slightly.
Both twins motioned for Hermione to go first and they followed in closely. Once inside the door quickly slammed shut and locked again.
"I think it should be okay to lift the spell now," as George spoke he thumped Hermione on the head.
"Ow!" she could feel the counter-spell flowing over her skin in warm waves until she became visible once more.
"Don't worry. We're safe in here; nobody's able to come through the backway 'cept for us,' said Fred and whispered something under his breath.
Lights sprang to life overhead and Hermione was finally able to see exactly where she was.
"Welcome to Weasley Wizard Wheezes' product development lab," George said happily.
There were two long worktables filled with different sized cauldrons, all popping and bubbling away in various colours. Glass cabinets lined the walls and every shelf seemed to be jam-packed with ingredients, vials, and other odds and ends.
"This is amazing," Hermione breathed as she looked into one of the self-stirring cauldrons. "I had no idea the shop was doing so well."
"Yeah. If business keeps up like this, we should have Gringotts paid off by. . ." Fred looked up and began calculating.
"Mid-September. We're planning a big push right before school begins, but that's not important. Right now we need to get you home."
Hermione spun around and saw that the twins were moving towards a flight of stairs. With the surprise of the attack and the mad run through the back streets of London, she had almost forgotten what was going on.
"Wait. What was all that back there? What were all those aurors doing there? And why -"
"We'll explain everything later," Fred soothed as he walked Hermione in front of himself and up the stairs. "But first we have to get to the Burrow."
Hermione bit her lip and glared icily at the twins, but followed along quietly. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway which straight ahead opened up onto the main floor of the shop and to the left it connected to the business office.
"Come on now," George said as Hermione walked through the office door. "We're heading into the home stretch, but we still need to hurry."
Fred picked up a jar from a table off to the side of the fireplace and held it out for the other two.
Taking a fist full of the floo powder, Hermione stepped into the hearth. "The Burrow," she called out clearly. Grates and other fires flashed by until Hermione stumbled out into the Weasley's living room.
"Ron, wake up this instant, or so help me, I'll - Oh, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley came rushing out of the kitchen and pulled Hermione into a bone crunching hug. "I'm so glad you're here. I wasn't expecting you for another half hour, though. What happened?"
At that moment Fred and George stepped out of the fire.
"We'll explain everything in a moment, Mum."
"Did you save us any breakfast?" George asked rubbing his hands together eagerly.
"Boys," their mother rolled her eyes. "Honestly, they only think about one thing," Mrs. Weasley huffed as she turned and went to the kitchen.
"Oh, I wouldn't know about that," Fred laughed as he elbowed his brother who then winked at Hermione.
It's so good to be back, Hermione thought as she followed the parade of redheads through the hall.
The kitchen table, though marred by years of many children's abuses, was inviting. Remnants of the morning meal were still waiting and the twins and Hermione sat down to a platter of muffins with pumpkin juice.
Mrs. Weasley bustled about cleaning and putting away dishes, making tea, and fussing over Hermione.
"I see that Fred and George were able to get you here all in one piece," Mrs. Weasley said as she sat down across the table to face Hermione. "But you look a bit edgy. Did something go wrong?"
"Well," Hermione began to toy with the teacup within her grip. "Now that you mention it, everything was a little odd, to me, anyway. I wasn't really expecting anyone to show up until noon at the earliest and certainly not these two," she said as she waved a hand at the twins who were too busy stuffing themselves on their mother's baking to notice. "There was something different about the portkey, as well."
"You used a portkey, but I thought you had your Apparation License, Hermione? Where did you end up?"
"Radnoirbalk Alley," Fred said, spraying crumbs to the table.
Mrs. Weasley gasped and brought a hand to her mouth. Radnoirbalk Alley was the most dangerous area in all of the magical parts of London. The crimes there were so dark and sinister they made Knockturn Alley's exploits seem like child's play.
"There was something a bit wonky with that portkey, now that you mention it," piped in George, trying to distract their mother. "Normally, it'd just hook you 'round the middle and give a tug."
"Not this on. It went all the way to your backbone and wouldn't let go. Very painful."
"But why Radnoirbalk Alley?" Mrs. Weasley asked undeterred.
"Well, firstly, why would anyone in their right mind go there and two those deviants who would be there wouldn't be up and about at this time in the morning to cause us any fuss," said Fred.
"What's so bad about this Radnoirbalk Alley, anyway? I've never heard of it," Hermione said throwing a questioning glare at the other table inhabitants.
"You should count yourself lucky that you've never heard about it," Ginny said softly as she came in through the kitchen door.
"Ginny!" Hermione squeaked and pulled the younger girl close for a sisterly hug. "Wow, you just keep getting taller! You're almost the same height as Fred and George."
Blushing, Ginny took the seat next to Hermione.
"Where were you, my darling sister? Did the ghoul chase you out again?" laughed Fred.
"No," she sneered at her older brother. "I was out . . . riding my broom. I need to get back in form for Monday." Mrs. Weasley and George both winked at her timely save.
"What's happening on Monday?"
"Oh, I'll tell you later," Ginny said. "Seriously though, only the most vile, loathsome criminals lurk around in Radnoirbalk."
"It's a miracle you made it out of there alive," Mrs. Weasley added solemnly.
"We almost didn't," whispered Hermione.
"WHAT!"
Fred and George both cringed and started to slide out of their chairs, hoping to disappear under the table, unnoticed.
"Alfred Gideon Weasley, George Fabian Weasley, explain yourselves. Now!"
"Well, you see, Mum - "
"It was sort of like - "
The twins delved into the morning's escapade. No detail was left unsaid – a few more were, indeed, added just to sweeten their own roles in the tale. Near the end, Mrs. Weasley leaped from her chair and brought Hermione into another of her inescapable hugs.
"Mrs. Weasley," came Hermione's muffled voice.
"Oh. So sorry, dear. It's just that. . . . Well," she breathed in a heavy sigh. "This was all Arthur's idea. You were supposed to be the distraction to draw the Death Eaters away so Harry could get to Grimmauld Place. I had no idea that it would've worked out like th-"
"Mum, do you have any headache tonic? My head's still pounding from - What are you doing here?" Ron exclaimed from the hall archway.
"Hello to you, as well," Hermione replied coolly.
Ron stood with a blank look in his eyes and his mouth gaping like a fish out of water. "But . . . but why are you here?" he walked further into the room his gaze never leaving Hermione's. "I mean - I thought that - "
"I invited her," Ginny said and calmly poured herself a cup of tea. "Since I'm leaving for Quidditch camp on Monday, I wanted her here before I left. Otherwise I wouldn't see her until . . . almost until the start of term."
"I still don't get how you got chosen for that camp anyway," Ron said as he walked over to Mrs. Weasley and took the potion she held out. He grimaced and made a face as the foul tasting liquid flowed down his throat. A moment later the tension and thundering eased within his skull.
"I mean," he waved his arms impatiently, trying to emphasize his position. "How does a little imp like you get to go, when I've never gotten a letter. Neither have any of our other Quidditch-playing brothers."
"Of course you wouldn't," Ginny laughed, not only to irritate her brother even more, but also out of nervousness. Ron was starting to poke too close at the truth. "It's only for girls. Can I help it if the Harpies make an effort to scout out future potential by helping talented young players? I'd complain to those Canons of yours and ask why they don't do the same."
Ron opened his mouth for a rebuttal, but quickly thought against it and remained silent. The glare he aimed at Ginny, however, became more heated.
"Well," Fred said, as he stood up from the table. "If that's all, we'll be heading to work now."
"Here you are Hermione," George reached into his pocket and removed the shrunken trunk and owl cage. "Feel free to drop in and check on the potions."
Once again Ron's mouth stood agape. Both twins broke out in rolling laughter and disappeared with two loud pops.
"What was George doing with your things?" Ron asked as he took a seat across from Hermione. Immediately he began to grab at the remainders of the breakfast.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's ill-concealed attempt to make her feel guilty and goad her into talking more. Two can play that game she thought to herself. "He was just being gentlemanly. Something you wouldn't know anything about."
"What do you mean I don't know - "
The remainder of Ron and Hermione's banter went unheard by Mrs. Weasley and Ginny, who had slipped out of the kitchen unnoticed. They had retreated into the living room, leaning against the wall and both were taking a preventative headache draught.
"WHAT!"
Ginny sighed and shook her head. "It's going to be a long day."
While one war was brewing over a kitchen table outside of Ottery St. Catchpole, somewhere in London another war was being discussed. Within the dimly lit basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place, five bodies were seated around the long table which had become cluttered rather quickly. Maps, reports, viewing globes, and other gadgets were spread out from one end to the other.
It had been almost two hours since Harry had sat down to the meeting and there was still so much left to discuss. They had already gone over the recent attack in Hull and also the ongoing investigations into the ones in Reading and Harrow. Remus had begun to debrief on his progress (or lack there of) with the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures committee.
"I'm telling you it's impossible," he said resentfully. "Half of them won't be happy until every half-human is licensed and registered like a house pet or criminal; while the others don't believe we're suggesting enough to protect either creature or human rights."
At the end of his rant Remus hung his head in defeat. Tonks leaned over, kissed him on his stress-lined cheek, and entwined her fingers with his.
Harry's mind had been wandering in and out of the meeting, until a flash of light caught his eye. "What's that?" he asked, pointing at Tonks' left hand. Both blushed all the way to the tips of their hair (Tonks' even changed from its bubble gum shade to a deep cherry.) "Don't waste much time, do you?"
"It's not like that - "
"It's more like an insurance policy - "
"So this old fool doesn't go and get himself killed," Tonks finished and gave Remus a look that was filled with both love and deadly promise.
Harry glanced at Dumbledore and saw his eyes twinkling above his half-moon glasses; whether it was from tears or just amusement from the new couple's antics was difficult to say.
"As we are on the topic of personal protections, I think we should discuss that of Harry and Miss Weasley," Dumbledore turned to face Harry. "Now, in your last letter, you said that she would be arriving here this Monday?"
"Yes, sir."
"And Moody told me that you wanted to use the rest of the summer break to learn more defenses. Do I have that right?" Harry nodded again. "If that's to be the case, I think it would be best if the two of you - " Dumbledore paused as a small barn owl flew out of the fireplace. It dropped a sheet of paper into his lap and flew off.
Opening the letter, the old professor's eyes dashed along the page and a small smile came across his face as he closed the letter. "It looks as though luck was on our side today. The auror's were able to capture four Death Eaters near Radnoirbalk Alley this morning; only one auror was seriously injured. Unfortunately, there were seven others who managed to escape."
"But that's still good, right? I mean, it's been awhile since there have been any good captures," Harry said hurriedly.
"Yes," said Moody as he rose from his seat and wandered over to the fireplace. "But it wasn't quite the sort of thing we were expecting."
"It was an ambush and we were completely unprepared," Mr. Weasley called as he stepped from the fire.
"Ah, Arthur, so good to see you," said Dumbledore and motioned for the other man to sit. Mr. Weasley took a chair near the other end of the table.
While Mr. Weasley began to recant what he had learned about the aurors and the Death Eaters interrogations, Harry was able to study him. With his recent appointment to Minister of Strategic Planning not only came the inevitable change in responsibility but other, more subtle ones as well. His red hair, which had been thinning for some time, was even thinner and was turning a gingery-gray; his eyes looked like they had been pulled into a guarded stare of deep thought. However, Mr. Weasley's wardrobe was smarter than he had seen before and Harry sincerely hoped that money had trickled down to the rest of the family.
"There was an unregistered portkey set for nine o'clock. That went off smoothly. Once the arrived in Radnoirbalk, the aurors moved out as they were supposed to, but there were ten Death Eaters waiting for them.
"Fred and George took Hermione - "
"What was Hermione doing in the middle of all this?" Harry asked, finally pulled out of his reverie.
"Well, she was your distraction," Mr. Weasley said quietly as he fidgeted nervously with his collar. "I thought the original number of guards needed for you would draw too much attention. So, when Hermione asked us to pick her up today, I knew it was just what we need. Good thing the twins were able to get her to their shop and flooed home. Molly said they all arrived safely – all in one piece - but I still got my ear chewed off for the attack."
"And Hermione's at the Burrow?"
"Yes, and she's unharmed like I said before."
Harry's mind skipped into overtime as he began to wonder if his friends had listened to his letters and how to move them into stage two when the fire once again erupted into vivid green flames.
"Ginny?" Moody asked as he reached into the fire.
Out of the flames stepped the lithe, redhead. As soon as she had regained her balance, Ginny rushed to the table and flung her arms around her father's neck.
"Oh Daddy, please, please, please don't make me go back. I'll go stark raving mad if I have to say in that house a moment longer!"
"What's going on?" Mr. Weasley asked, disentangling himself from his daughter.
"It's awful," Ginny said as she got up to sit in Moody's empty chair to, Harry's left. "Ever since Hermione got there this morning, all she and Ron have done is bicker and argue. Right before I left, they were walking out to the garden. I think they may have gone off to have a duel, but. . . . Please don't make me go back."
"Ginny, I don't know how - "
"Actually, Arthur," interrupted Dumbledore, "This would seem a perfect time for us to return to our earlier topic of how exactly these two are going to be looking after themselves in the coming weeks." Harry hazarded a glance at Ginny who boldly met his gaze with a conspiratorial spark in her eyes.
"There is no way we can afford to pull anyone off of patrol to watch over them," Moody grumbled, taking up a new seat at the table.
"I wasn't going to suggest a full-time guard, Alastor. Simply that there are certain measures that need to be taken."
"Sir, what about Godric's Hollow?" Harry said softly.
"What was that, Harry?"
"Godric's Hollow. Ginny and I could stay there for the rest of the summer. Voldemort wouldn't believe that I'd go back there. Not after what he had done."
"No, I doubt very much that he would. However, he does know where that location is. It wouldn't be safe. Perhaps Potter Manor; I don't believe that Pettigrew ever visited your father there and it is also an unplottable location."
"That's still no guarantee of safety," Lupin said. "Any secret keeper can be made to talk."
"I have a sneaking suspicion that this one would never reveal the secret," Dumbledore said, the twinkle in his blue eyes started to shine brighter than before.
"How can you be so sure?" asked Tonks.
"There aren't many people that a dragon would tell tales to."
There was a collective gasp around the table and all eyes focused on Harry.
"A . . . a dragon?"
"Yes, Harry. How that I think of it, I believe you have even met her once. A feisty Hungarian Horntail. . . ."
Harry gulped as his eyes remained fixed upon Dumbledore's.
Yes, he remembered quite vividly his encounter with the Horntail during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. After that, Harry had hoped that would be the last time he would ever have to be that close to a dragon in his life. It seemed as though Fate was determined to hit as many rouge bludgers as possible his way.
Seeing the rigidness of his spine and the waves of anxiety that were coming from Harry, Ginny entwined her left hand in his right beneath the tabletop. Harry jerked in shock, but quickly recovered as all the stress and tension slowly ebbed and disappeared with Ginny's touch.
"I believe you have an appointment with your Gringotts advisor this Monday. While you're there, be sure to go to the Potter Family vault," Dumbledore said.
"Why the family vault?"
"Because that is where you'll find the dragon, guarding your family's treasures." Harry nodded mutely, his brain was beginning to spin as it was reaching overload with all that had happened so far in the day. "Well, we've gone through most of the important topics. Our next meeting will be Wednesday night, barring ant other developments."
With Dumbledore's dismissal, Tonks, Remus, and Moody headed for the fire and back to their work, leaving Dumbledore, Harry, Ginny, and Mr. Weasley sitting around the table.
"Now, back to what I was saying earlier. While normally I believe it very foolish to leave two young people to their own devices, in this case, it may not only be the exception, but a necessity."
"What exactly are you saying, Albus?" Mr. Weasley asked his brows furrowed.
"What I'm suggesting is that for Harry to succeed in the months to come, he will need to learn how to use his heart in addition to new skills. This would mean a minimal amount of influence from outsiders."
A somewhat awkward silence fell across the table for a few minutes until a delicate cough brought everyone back to the discussion at hand.
"About those new skills, sir," sighed Ginny. "It seems that my brothers have taken in into their thick skulls to become our teachers."
"As a matter of fact, that wouldn't be such a bad idea," Dumbledore paused and stroked his long, white beard.
Ginny's hand, however, now squeezed Harry's with an unthought-of strength. Even though her brothers had all agreed to support her, Ginny knew that if a chance were to present itself, they'd do all they could to give Harry a hard time.
It'll all be alright, luv, Harry thought as he hoped Ginny would loosen her deathgrip. As soon as he thought those simple words, she jerked her hand from his and looked at him with wide, brown eyes.
"On Mondays, Tuesday s, and Thursdays your brothers could take turns teaching. . . ."
What just happened? thought Ginny, completely unaware of Dumbledore's words. I could have sworn I heard Harry talk, but he never opened his mouth.
That's because I didn't, I just thought it. Harry's voice came through Ginny's mind once again, only now more clearly than before.
"Wednesdays would either be used for review or special lessons and on Fridays either I or one of the other Hogwarts teachers would test you to see how far you have progressed through the week. . . ."
This is crazy, Harry. What's going on?
I don't know. This has never happened to me before, either.
"Does that sound reasonable to each of you?" Harry and Ginny both nodded. "Good. Now, once you've gone to Gringotts - "
"Wait, Professor," interrupted Harry. "How do you expect Ginny to be learning all of this if she hasn't received her Underage Waiver yet?"
Ginny nudged Harry's leg to get him to look at her and mouthed, How did you know about that? Harry shrugged and was cut off from offering any further explanation.
"I have that with me, now that you mention it," Mr. Weasley said and pulled a thick, black leather portfolio from an inner pocket. "I would have had it sooner, but since Ginny is only fifteen and I'm now a minister, there was a lot more red tape to work through compared to yours, Harry. But here you are, dear." Mr. Weasley slid the folder down the table to Ginny, who immediately broke the seal and read the official letter from the Minister of Underage Wizards.
Miss Weasley:
The request of application UEW 6219A – Underage Wizardry Emancipation Waiver, has been approved. It is with the heaviest of hearts, however, that this right is granted, but given the state that our world is in, circumstances demand that we do all that we can to ensure the safety and well-being of younger generations.
Also included with your legal papers are those of Mr. Harry J. Potter – there is a shortage of Post Owls at the moment.
Alberta Gallagher
Minister of Underage Wizards.
Ginny's cheeks turned a soft pink as she removed an identical folder from within her own and passed it to Harry. "Here. I guess the Ministry is really trying to cut their expenses."
"Now that we have that matter settled, once you have finished your business in Diagon Alley this Monday, I think you should go straight to Potter Manor," Harry nodded, as Dumbledore pressed forward. "In that case you may borrow the Hogwarts' house elves again. I would like for the two of you to take it easy this coming week with your studies. I'll expect a stellar essay from you, Miss Weasley and I'll be seeing you both at the wedding, I suspect."
"Who's wedding?"
"Don't tell me you've forgotten already," Ginny said exasperatedly. "Bill's and Phleg-er-Fleur's wedding, this Thursday. Actually, I'm kind of glad that I'll be staying here and not at home. Who can possibly remember how many people Fleur's invited by this point?"
"Yes, don't remind me, but your mother and I do expect you to be there. There's no telling what Fred and George might do in front of all those people," Mr. Weasley sighed as his forehead dropped into one of his hands, covering his eyes.
"I wouldn't worry so much about it, Dad. Either something will go wrong or it won't there's no point in thinking the worst. I have a feeling that those two won't do anything, you have my word."
Mr. Weasley snorted as he rose from his eat. "We'd sooner have a family member on one of the national quidditch teams, than I'd place my hopes on that promise."
Ginny bit her lip as a wave of laughter threatened to break through her resolve. Mr. Weasley had no idea how close to the truth he was getting.
"Ginny's right, Mr. Weasley. I'll guarantee that you'll have no incidents from Fred and George on the day of the wedding," Harry said as he too stood.
"Harry, if you could do that, you would be the greatest miracle worker in all of England. I should probably be getting back to the department now. I'm surprised that they've let me be away for this long without any owls." Mr. Weasley stepped into the fireplace and took a pink of floo powder from one of his pockets. "I'll have you mother send you trunk over later this evening, Ginny."
"Thanks, Dad. You know I love you, right?"
"I love you, too, pet. Head Office of Strategic Planning," the familiar green flash filled the fire and once it had cleared Mr. Weasley had disappeared.
Let's all pray that I get myself together and can finally finish out these next few scenes...