Now we are getting into some of the good stuff. Drop a review so I know what you think.
Harry was free. The kid rolled down the window and shouted, "See you next summer!" at the trio of gaping mouths hanging from his bedroom window.
"Not if I have anything to say about it." I grumped. "I'm going to speak with Dumbledore, or the Ministry, or someone, and get you out of that awful place. Were they even feeding you properly?" I scanned his thin frame, my mind suggesting they were not.
Harry looked down at his knees, and that was all the answer I needed.
"Let Hedwig out." He said instead. "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had the chance to stretch her wings for ages."
George passed my hairpin to Ron and he let the bird free. She took off from the back window with a cry of joy.
"So what's the story, Harry?" Ron asked impatiently. "What's been happening?"
Harry told us about a house elf called Dobby that was trying to convince Harry not to go to Hogwarts. Dobby was the one taking Harry's letters and dumped pudding on some lady that came over to see his Aunt and Uncle. Dobby used the levitation charm, not Harry.
"Very fishy," said Fred.
"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"
"I don't think he could," said Harry. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."
The twins and I share a look.
"What," Harry asked. "you think he was lying to me?"
"Well," Fred began, "put it this way- house elves have powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"
"Yes," said Harry and Ron together, instantly.
"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "He hates me."
"Draco Malfoy?" George turned around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"
"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" Harry asked.
"Yup, that's Draco." I interrupted. "Cousins, remember?"
"I've heard Dad talking about him," George continued. "He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who."
Fred nodded. "When You-Know-Who disappeared, Mr. Malfoy came back, trying to say he was cursed the whole time, never meant any of it. Load of dung- Dad reckons he was in You-Know-Who's inner circle."
"I'm not going to speculate about family. I know he's into some shady stuff, there were rooms at the Christmas party, two years ago, I was not allowed to go near. Cousin Andromeda kept me quite close to her. But I never saw any proof. Cousin Lucius is a creep though." I added my opinion.
"I don't know if the Malfoy's own a house elf..." Harry trailed off.
"Well," Fred said, "whoever owns him will be an old wizard family, and they'll be rich."
George glanced at me and shrugged. "Yeah, Mum's always wishing we had one for the laundry, but all we got is the old ghoul in the attic. And the gnomes in the garden. House elves come with big manors and castles. You wouldn't catch one in our place."
I just nodded. I knew that one of the old Black houses had an elf, but I hadn't been old enough before to deal with the parts of my inheritance that went beyond paying my school fees.
The Malfoy's on the other hand... They were known to flaunt the fact that they were swimming in gold, and they definitely were into some sketchy stuff.
"I can speak with Draco if you like?" I offered. The only real way I could help in this instance.
"That's alright, Leo. I wouldn't want to get you in any trouble if I'm wrong." Harry shook his head at me. I shrugged and turned to look out the window.
The sun was just coming up behind us, and the colors were gorgeous.
"I'm glad we came to get you anyway," Ron announced. "I was getting really worried when you didn't answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol's fault at first-"
"Who's Errol?" Harry interrupted.
"Our owl." Ron clarified. "He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he's collapsed on a delivery. So I tried borrowing Hermes-"
"Who?"
"The owl Mum and Dad bought for Percy when he made Prefect," Fred said from the front.
"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me." Ron pouted. "Said he needed him."
"Percy's been acting oddly all summer," said George, frowning. "Spent days cooped up in his room, sending loads of letters... I mean there's only so much time you can spend polishing that dumb Prefect badge. You're too far west, Fred." He tapped the compass on the console and Fred turned the wheel a bit.
"So," Harry began. "Does your Dad know? That you have the car."
"Er," Ron fiddled with the edge of his shirt. "No. He had to work tonight. Hopefully, we can get it back and in the garage before Mum notices though."
I leaned into George as Fred navigated a wind gust, turning the car rather sharply. "What does your Dad do? I never asked." I sat back up straight.
"He works in the most boring department," Said Ron. "The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
"Really?" I turned to face Ron and Harry. "But Muggles are fascinating! I plan to take muggle studies at school next year. I hope they cover pop culture."
"The what?" Harry asked.
"It's all to do with bewitching Muggle made stuff, you know, in case it winds up back in Muggle shops, or whatever. Like last year, this old witch died, and her tea set went to an antiques shop in Muggle London. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home. She tried to serve her friend's tea with it. Dad was working overtime for weeks. It was a nightmare." Ron explained.
"What happened? What did the tea set do?" I asked.
"The teapot went berserk and spewed boiling water at the people, one guy ended up with sugar tongs clamped on his nose... Dad was going frantic. It's only him and one old guy named Perkins in the whole office, and they were running everywhere, doing Memory Charms to cover it up."
"But your Dad-" Harry sputtered, "this car-"
Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's crazy about all this Muggle stuff. Shed's full of it. If he raided our house he'd have to arrest himself. Drives Mum mad."
"That's the main road," George said as he peered through the windshield. "Maybe ten more minutes? Just as well, it's getting light."
Fred lowered the car, and a patchwork of fields came into view. The sky was pink on the horizon.
"We're a little outside the village," George announced. "Ottery St. Catchpole."
Lower and lower Fred flew the car. The edge of a brilliant red sun rose through the trees.
"Touchdown." Fred landed the car with a slight bump. We were next to the rundown garage, at the edge of the Weasley property.
I had been distracted by the boy's greetings when I first arrived the day before and took the opportunity to observe the place properly.
The building looked as though it was a small stone hut once, but extra floors had been added and layered, tacking on a room here, a closet there. It was several stories high, and could only be upright through the use of magic. At least five chimneys released large puffs of smoke, and a lopsided sign hung above the door. 'The Burrow'. The front door was surrounded by many pairs of rubber boots, and several fat chickens roamed the yard.
"It's not much," said Ron.
"It's wonderful," Harry said.
"It's perfect," I added.
We all piled out of the car and began to sneak across the yard. I had a bad feeling.
"Now," said Fred, "we'll go upstairs real quiet-like, and wait for Mum to call us down for breakfast. Then, Ron, you come down the stairs-"
"Uh, Fred." I tried.
"-all 'look who turned up in the night!' and she'll be so pleased he's here. And no one will know we took the car."
"Fred." I nodded towards the house.
"Right." Ron was equally oblivious. "Come on, Harry. I sleep-" He saw her. Mrs. Weasley was storming through the yard, chickens scattering from her wrath. Ron's face went a sickly green.
"Ah," said Fred, ducking his head.
"Oh dear," agreed George.
The woman came to a halt in front of us, hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. She wore a flowery apron with her wand at hand height, scanning each guilty face. When she came to me I just gave her an apologetic smile, but I refused to cower for rescuing my friend.
"So." Mrs. Weasley prompted.
"Morning, Mum." George tried in what was clearly meant to be a happy tone.
"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" Mrs. Weasley asked in a deadly whisper.
"Sorry, Mum." Fred began. "But see-"
All three Weasley boys were taller than their mother, but I watched in mild amusement as they cowered before the tiny woman.
"Beds empty! No note! Car gone- you could have crashed! Out of my mind with worry- Did you care? Never in my life- Just you wait until your father gets home. We never had trouble like this from Bill, Charlie, or Percy-"
"Perfect Percy," Fred muttered.
"YOU COULD DO WITH A PAGE OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK." She prodded Fred in the chest. "You could have died, you could have been seen, you could have lost your father his job-"
"Mrs. Weasley." I interrupted, ignoring the warning looks from the boys. "I think you should be proud of your sons. Harry was being starved, his relatives had bars on the windows and wouldn't let him study or even let his poor owl out to fly. That place was not at all a home where any child should be forced to stay, and your sons rescued him. They cared enough about their friend to risk getting in trouble, to go and save someone they cared for. They stood up to the abuse and were brave and loyal and kind.
"I will be speaking to Dumbledore when we reach the school, about getting Harry removed from that situation. I will not rest until I know he is safe. But your sons did a good thing. Maybe they should have left a note, but they did well, and I am proud to call them my friends."
I suddenly felt very exposed, as all of them stared. Mrs. Weasley with warmth, but the boys in awe.
"Wow, Kitty." Fred gaped.
"Never knew you had it in ya," George added.
Both boys slung an arm over my shoulders.
Mrs. Weasley sighed quietly. "Well then. I am proud of you boys, I was just so worried. Please let me know next time, at least the direction you're going. So I can know which way to search if something happens?"
There was a chorus of 'Yes Ma'am' and head nodding all around, and then we headed into breakfast as Mrs. Weasley finally said hello to Harry.
The kitchen was cramped as it was, but with the addition of me and Harry, I feared I would have to sit on someone's lap. George offered with an eyebrow wriggle, but his mother shut that down quickly. Instead, I squished between the twins on the only bench. Harry took a chair beside Ron.
The clock behind my head chimed, startling me enough I did jump in George's lap, if only for a second. Instead of hands, it had several spoons, each with one of the Weasley's face on it. And instead of times, the sections read things like; Work, Shopping, Bed, and one even said Prison. All of the spoons were on Home, except Mr. Weasley, Charlie, and Bill. The three of them were at Work. The fact that Mrs. Weasley knew her family well enough to add a Prison section amused me.
Mrs. Weasley walked behind each of us, serving portions of food. I hid a giggle when she piled Harry's plate with nine or ten sausages and more eggs than any boy could be expected to eat in one sitting. She then proceeded to continue the rant I had interrupted outside. "Arthur and I have been worried about you too, Harry dear. Just last night we were saying we would come get you ourselves if you hadn't owled Ron by Friday. But really, taking a flying, illegal, car halfway across the country-"
She flicked her wand and set the dishes to washing in the sink.
"It was cloudy, Mum." Fred tried.
"You keep your mouth closed while you're eating." She snapped.
"They were starving him, Mum!" said George.
"And you!" said Mrs. Weasley, though she was already buttering another piece of bread and stacking it on Harry's plate.
At that moment the boys were rescued by Ginny, who appeared in the kitchen just long enough to spot Harry, gasp, and then about-faced. Her nightgown trailing behind her up the stairs.
"Ginny," Said Ron to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin, but he caught his mother's eye and turned to his plate.
"Blimey, I'm tired," Fred yawned exaggeratedly. "I think I'll go to bed and-"
"You will not." Mrs. Weasley snapped. "It's your own fault you've been up all night. You're going to de-gnome the garden, they're getting completely out of hand. Along with you." She gestured to Ron, and George, who promptly sagged against my shoulder.
"You can go up to bed, dear." She turned to Harry. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car-"
"I'll help Ron." Harry insisted. "I've never actually seen a de-gnoming before."
"That's very sweet of you dear, but it's very dull. Now, what does Lockhart have to say-"
The twins let out simultaneous groans. "Mum, we know how to do it," George said.
The book she had pulled from the shelf had gold lettering, and the cover was plastered in the smiling face of a wizard in his forties. He had clearly dyed his hair, and every time the man winked at the camera, his teeth let off an unnatural sparkle.
"Oh he is marvelous," Mrs. Weasley ignored them. "He knows his household pest, for sure, it's a wonderful book..."
Fred leaned over to whisper in Harry's ear. "Mum fancies him."
"Don't be ridiculous, Fred." The woman protested, though her cheeks turned pink. "If you think you know better than Lockhart, get to it. Miss Leo, a word, if you will."
The boys all looked at her wide-eyed, and Fred mouthed, "What did you do?"
I merely shrugged. I figured she would want to talk about my little rant from this morning.
"Go on. I'll come find you in a bit." I shooed them out the door.
Mrs. Weasley turned to me and motioned to sit at the table again. Once I was settled, she got right to it.
"You're very perceptive for someone your age."
I ducked my head. "Most people don't notice. They think it's cause I live with Remus and read a lot. Surprised I didn't make Ravenclaw, to be honest."
Mrs. Weasley merely watched me squirm and try to dance around the subject.
"Sometimes..." I began, "Sometimes I get flashes. These... blackouts, if you will. They are never very long, so no one notices. But I see things during the blackout. They don't always make sense, and sometimes it's just one image. Or even more of a feeling.
"Remus says I might be a seer, or at least have more of an awareness than the average wizard of the... Force. At least that's what I call it. The source of magic. In some places, I can see the magic in things or in people. I might actually want to work with your husband when I grow up. I have seen magic in things in the Muggle shops sometimes. And I find Muggles fascinating anyway.
"I hadn't said anything to anyone besides Ray. I mean Remus. I don't want to be treated differently."
Mrs. Weasley studied me for a moment before responding. Her eyes seeming to take in everything at once.
"I think Remus is probably right about the seer idea. And I appreciate you standing up for your friends. I am proud of my boys, and I don't want you thinking differently. I am their mother, though, and I worry. As a parent, you do that sort of thing."
I nodded. "It might do them some good, if I'm not overstepping, the twins. They sometimes feel like they aren't up to par. Like they'll never be as good as your older children. They haven't said anything, but I see it sometimes. I know you love them, and they know that too. In their heads. But sometimes it doesn't show in other ways. Like I said I don't want to overstep. I'm sorry if that was too much."
I suddenly realized how much I had spilled and reeled back. "I..."
Mrs. Weasley smiled at me. "I will take that under advisement. I know it was a lot to trust me with at once. Thank you. And again, thank you for what you said about my boys. They have a great friend in you."
"I haven't told them about the seer thing," I admitted. "I don't want them to see me differently, or think I can predict the outcome of Quidditch games or something. I can't control it. I hope to take divination next year and learn from Professor Trelawny."
"I'm sure they will treat you just the same, and you just explain you aren't a fortune teller. As for Professor Trelawny, from what I've heard, you may want to speak with an advisor. I'm sure the woman knows the textbook well, but I can't speak for her effectiveness at helping students with unique Sight. She has her methods and doesn't veer, and from your description, you may be outside her box, dear."
Any further conversation was interrupted by Mr. Weasley coming in the front door with a rather loud bang.
WhiteDarkness9: Thanks for the review! I honestly created a new house because I couldn't decide where Leo fit best. Aside from some minor things like her own dorms, I don't plan right now for it to affect much. I have taken the sorting quiz four times and got a different house each time. Personally, I identify with Slytherin the most, but I can see pretty equally other house tendencies. As it's all just my diversion from existence, and she is slightly based on me, I let the story kinda go where it wants, and guide it when I have an idea. Hope this helps explain it some.
