"Warm Night at Hogwarts"
Chapter 15
"Confusing Justice"
A/N: I'm sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter out, but I've been extremely busy, and on top of that, my laptop was down for the better part of 6 months. I would have started over, but I knew there were some things in this chapter that I couldn't do without, and if I had forgotten them, which I certainly would have, the chapter would have been left quite bland. I do hope you enjoy this installment. I'll be working fervently to get out chapter 16 as soon as I can.
Confusing Justice
Three of the older Weasley men grabbed for their wands and held them before the last syllable could be spoken from her lips. Charlie ran to the door, helping to brace it against any attack that might try to force its way inside. His glance stole across Harry's face, and he could see the anger flashing through his emerald eyes, with wand in hand [this last phrase doesn't seem to fit with the rest of the sentence. Perhaps make it into a new sentence or delete it?
Bill ran around the bed to stand at Harry's side and help ward off the oncoming invasion. Although he stood almost a foot away from the raven-haired boy, he could feel the fury radiating from him. Never before had he had a reason to question Harry's motives against Voldemort and his followers, but he sensed more in that defining moment than he had ever felt coming from one person. The feeling, now seeping into him, began to entangle itself with his own emotions. He tried to shake the feeling off, but couldn't. It was times like these that young wizards were so valuable: when they acted without thought, only through pure emotion. Bill now realized that Harry was just as powerful as everyone claimed him to be. His thoughts of questioning his motives quickly ebbed, as a loud bang came from the door.
Arthur stood poised by his wife and daughter. He had barely thought about what he was doing, but realized that the twins were one step ahead of him in standing around Hermione and Ron. There was enough power in this room to blow Durmstrang into the ocean if need be. He looked around the room and saw that everyone had their wands drawn except for Ron, Abigail, and Petunia. He was sure that, she, being a reporter, had come in some sort of contact with a Death Eaters before today, but it seemed that all her conscious thought and emotions shut down, only allowing her to be scared out of her wits. When he [Arthur looked at his second eldest son, he saw the odd face he was making. Charlie's trying to tell me something! The thought echoed through his mind, but came to a halt when he saw the door jerk open then slam shut quickly.
Screams were heard throughout the corridors of the hospital. Obviously people were running for their lives, or just trying to stay hidden away from the people in the dark robes and masks. A small flash of a green light came from the bottom of the doorway. They were definitely the Death Eaters. Harry didn't think there were any other wizards or witches who would use the famous Unforgivable Curse that produced that colour of light.
Everyone in the room tensed as they heard a loud crash of someone's body slamming into something metallic. Charlie looked at Fred and told him to switch places with him. When Fred's weight was firmly pressed against the door, Charlie left and ran to his father, carefully bringing his mouth to the older man's ear. "Dad, I smell Polyjuice Potion."
Arthur stared in shock. Didn't that article written by this woman mention something about Polyjuice? He nodded quickly and sent his son back to the door, and then made Fred return to where he was. Another bone-jarring crash came against the door, but this time it couldn't be held. The thick wooden door flung open, and the ends splintered as it hit the wall.
Four people stood in the doorway and looked into the room. Their eyes scanned the faces, looking for the person who had betrayed them. Unfortunately, she had gotten so good at making the Polyjuice that she could have transformed into anyone in the room.
One of the masked members stepped forward and raised his hand, saying, "We don't want the boy. We want the outsider."
Seeing the looks change on their faces was priceless. He now saw the boy standing in the back of the room, wand pointed directly at him, shaking with rage.
All eyes in the room stared directly at Harry Potter. Clearly, this wasn't the response he wanted. He was sure that even if that woman had managed to get some of Harry's hair, which she could have done in all of the numerous times she had interviewed him (or pretended to), she would not be able to convincing the others of her assumed identity. They would know the subtle differences. There were some habits that the woman just could not suppress, even if she was drinking the potion. She was known all over the magical land as the big-haired, blond woman with the red pouty lips.
Lestrange saw movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head slowly, not wanting to let Harry fall out of eye sight. He was sure that the brazen wizard would try something stupid.
It's her, it has to be. The thought instantly crossed his mind as he saw the young woman trying to hide behind the door. His arm reached out and took hold of her before he commanded it to. He felt sudden warmth around his finger tips as he realized his fingernails were biting into her skin. Good, she needs to suffer. He dug his fingers in deeper and felt something underneath the palm of his hand. When he looked down, he saw her skin start to bubble. He knew what was happening. She hadn't drunk any potion before coming to the hospital; she was changing back to who she really was.
"RITA SKEETER?!" Hermione shrieked. She ran over to the older woman and stood in front of her. "How dare you weasel your way in here! Who do you think you are?"
Rita still shook from fright. She knew they would find her, and she knew what they would do to her when they did. She had to at least try to escape. It was when she had seen Ron in Diagon Alley that things started to go sour. Her Polyjuice Potion had worked wonderfully. She walked down the alleys with everyone shying away from her. Who in their right mind would confront Lucius Malfoy? It had all gone according to plan until that man stepped out from his shop to see what the ruckus was all about. She had to run away and leave the boy where he was and hope that she had done enough damage to him.
Rita turned to face her executioner; it was the only option she had left. She opened her mouth to tell him to hurry up and get it over with, but was surprised as the green jet shot out of the end of his wand and hit her squarely in the chest. Her vision clouded then went black almost instantly. Rita Skeeter was dead. Murdered, right in front of the entire Weasley family and Harry Potter.
The figures in the doorway all turned and walked away without a second glance. The door shut behind them, pushing the dead woman out of its way. Everyone stood in stark silence. This was not something anyone had expected. All eyes in the room, save for the woman hiding under the bed, were captivated by the cadaver.
Silence could penetrate even the deepest minds here. Worries were beginning to show their faces, and fear was quickly drawing its way up their spines. One question spoke in everyone's mind at once. If they were so close, why didn't they take Harry out with them?
When the thought crossed Harry's mind, his reaction was nothing that could be expected. He was a bit disappointed on the inside. Although, he was showing relief on the outside, he knew that if the Death Eaters were to try and wage an attack against him at that particular moment, the only thing he would have working in his favor was his rage and the fact that there were five members of the Order in the room with him as well.
The realization dawned on him in that instant. He never thought of putting the two together until then. He always thought of them as the Weasley family, not that most of them were members of the Order of the Phoenix. His gaze traveled from each person to the next, wondering just what would have happened if Voldemort's followers would have tried some other kind of attack. They probably thought that having Harry watch them kill someone right in front of them would have been damaging enough, but most of them weren't there that night in the cemetery when the TriWizard Cup was turned into a Portkey.
Harry was instantly flooded with memories of Cedric Diggory in his failed attempts to stay alive. It had been some time since he had thought of Cedric's final moments, and he was again overcome by that helpless feeling of being able to do nothing. Unconsciously, Harry's hands flexed into the tightest fists he had ever made. He was brought back to reality by the biting pain in his palms. The warmth trickling down his fingers brought about a slight tremor that ran through him.
The gasp coming from the unseen woman caused his hands to relax again and drop to his knees. He saw that the bed sheets allowed no clear vision of the other side of the room, so his aunt Petunia still had no idea what had transpired only moments before. As she carefully crawled out from under the bed, she spoke in a hushed tone that still seemed too loud.
"Harry, why on earth did you shove me underneath the –"
She had her answer when she turned to the door. Petunia had undoubtedly seen the corpse lying there. Her bony hand quickly came to her mouth as she tried to quell the sudden uneasiness that rose from deep within her. The realization of the dangers that Harry was in had started to sink into her mind. Even though she wouldn't speak her worries, they played themselves out on her face. The thought came back of one of the first nights she was at the Burrow, talking with everyone at the dinner table and Harry hushing them before they could tell Petunia just what they were talking about. It seemed that Harry lived with these sorts of things every day. She wanted to pull him close to her and never let him go.
Her will to learn more magic suddenly became much stronger seeing the aftereffects in the room. There was no telling what could have really happened if those people decided to remove everyone else from the room. As she gazed from person to person, she did notice that most of them had their wands drawn, and stood in a defensive position.
Surely they wouldn't have let something happen to Harry., Petunia thought. But even now, she couldn't be so sure. She wished with all her might that Harry would be safe for the time being until they could get him back to the house.
Knowing the dangers that her nephew faced only brought the original fear back into play. Why did it have to be so hard to be a good person these days? Although, she knew that it wasn't just being a good person, it was the fact that her nephew was Harry Potter. The Harry Potter. Petunia had heard stories when she was younger of a prophecy stating that someone would live against a Killing Curse. It was now that the realization finally set in. Harry is that boy. My Harry is the boy who lived.
Although times were different then, and they didn't have to worry about the Dark Lord, some still did fret about the prophecy. Who would be dumb enough to try and go that evil? It wasn't until several years later that she had received her answer: Tom Riddle. Even living like a Muggle wouldn't stop her sister from sending her letters, warning her.
Petunia had never thought that she would be in danger since she was hardly a real witch anymore. Were those letters really for me? She thought to herself. What if it was just a way for Lily to reach out to someone else? What if her sister had been trying to tell her the whole time that she feared the Dark Lord would come after her and James? Guilt began to seep into her mind. She knew that couldn't be the case, but what if it was? Without trying to stop herself, Petunia reached out and pulled Harry close. She wished now that she wouldn't have tried to stay in the dark for all those years.
The door began to open slowly with a small rap as a nurse poked her head inside. "Just coming to check on young mister…" her sentence halted. Her eyes had made contact with the remains of the blond-haired woman lying on the floor. When she looked up again, her eyes flashed with worry as she saw that most of the people in the room were brandishing their wands. Her arm flew to her hip as it cocked to the side.
"What in the bloody hell happened in here?" It was obvious that she was waiting for an answer, and to everyone's surprise, Ron spoke up.
"My boyfriend just proposed to me," he said with a grin. He saw the woman's look of incredulity and looked down at the late Rita Skeeter. "Oh, her," he said, almost noncommittal. "Some Death Eaters came in here and killed her." Before Ron could finish his statement, the nurse's face grew dark red.
"DEATH EATERS? In St. Mungo's? Someone has to be told." She turned on her heels and tried to speed from the room. Arthur came up behind her, gently placed his hand on her shoulder, and whispered something in her ear. She nodded slightly and then calmly walked with the older man out of the room.
Those that remained in the room stood utterly still. Hermione was the first to move as a tremor overtook her. A sound came from her mouth that was both intelligible and almost inaudible. Those within earshot turned to look at her. It had been quite some time since a voice was heard in the room, the sound seemed foreign. "That was…" She let the thought trail off.
Harry reached his arm out and draped it across the young brunette's shoulders. She relaxed with his touch. It had been so long since any of the three had spent time together, and even though this situation was not ideal, it would have to do. His mind began pushing thoughts to the forefront. Why wasn't I there to protect him? What could he have possibly wanted to get that was so important? Why didn't he ask me to go with him? Why…"
Before he could bring a hand to his face, tears fell from each eye simultaneously. He was sure that someone in the room could see that he was crying, but he didn't really care. There were times when some people just needed to let go. This was Harry's time. Now was when he was going to deal with the pain. Something in his mind was telling him to run out of the room, telling him that he needed time to think.
He decided at that moment, that something was more important than that. There was something that he needed to take care of, and even though it wasn't something that could be taken care of easily, it was something that he was going to devote his life to. He would devote himself with more passion than finding Voldemort, with more passion than avenging his parents' death. He was going to protect Ron. The one person, in his mind, who would love him like no other could. The one that he felt a love for that was new to him. With each passing day, the love grew stronger and stronger. Over these past years, he never thought he could feel something this strong for one person, but there it was, staring him right in the face.
As the night began to grow, members of the Weasley family slowly parted from the room. Molly approached Petunia and offered her to come with them, and was happy when the taller woman accepted. Ron watched as his family departed, going home to get some rest, promising to return early the next morning. No one bothered to ask Harry if he would return to the house. They knew the attempt would be futile and possibly taken the wrong way. They knew that the best thing for Ron right now would be to rest, but also to spend time with Harry. The least they could do was to let the boys talk about what happened.
As the door closed with a click of the bolt, the boys looked at each other, a devilish grin coming to the redhead's face. "About bloody time. I thought they would never leave."
Harry stood, open-mouthed. He watched as Ron reached out with his good arm and grasped his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm alright love, really. You can stop worrying now."
Harry shook his head. He looked down as the tears that endangered him before came back. There was so much that he wanted to say at that moment, but knew that he couldn't. Or thought that he couldn't. He didn't want to start a fight when Ron was in his current condition, to be more precise, Harry didn't want to fight with Ron at all, but he knew that it would happen inevitably.
Harry would ask at some point in the future why Ron went out alone that night, and Ron, being as prideful as he is, would only evade his question. Harry knew that Ron would never try to intentionally hurt him, but sometimes when he refused to answer him, it only hurt him more. He didn't want to appear controlling or jealous, or anything of the sort, but when his own partner couldn't tell him everything…it tended to make things difficult.
Knowing this, Harry pushed his desire to know why Ron had gone out that night into the back of his mind. It can wait until later.
He watched as Ron scooted his body over so Harry had some room to sit down close to him. Harry carefully sat down, being sure that the added pressure to the bed didn't move this boyfriend too much and cause him unnecessary pain.
"Why did you go out last night?" Harry asked before he could stop the words from slipping from his mouth.
Ron gazed at him questioningly. He wasn't sure how to answer his question. What would Harry think if he knew that Ron was going to propose to him as well? "Well… er… to be honest, I was…" he let a short pause "I was shopping."
"You were shopping that late at night, by yourself?" Harry knew he was giving Ron a look of incredulity, but he couldn't stop himself.
The redhead's eyes turned down in only what Harry could guess would be shame. "There was something important that I needed to get that I couldn't wait any longer to have." With this statement, Ron reached into his pocket with his good hand, halting only long enough to let Harry's mind wander over what could have been so important.
"The shop was closed, but I still found a way to get the one I was looking for, just don't ask me how I did it."
A slow grin started to cross Ron's face. Withdrawing his hand, he held up a scarlet covered box. This type of box usually held one of two things, and since Harry's ears weren't pierced, he had a pretty good guess as to what was in it.
Ron carefully handed the box out to Harry and said with a sigh, "I just hope it didn't get damaged in the attack. I haven't had a chance to check it."
Harry gazed down at the box in his hand. It felt oddly heavy for being so small. He let his slim fingers graze over the soft felt before he opened it. Once he did, he let out a gasp. The platinum ring glared up at him with ferocity. It was beautiful. The ring was solid platinum, but seemed to have two silver bands that wrapped around it. The bands were clearly etched out on the inside of the ring as well. Harry noticed that the bands were actually rotating.
He thought he saw a chip in one of the bands, and looked a bit more closely. What he saw made his heart melt. There were no chips in the ring, or in the silver bands, but two very small engravings of one word on each band. Harry stared at his own name as it spun slowly around and around. At every half turn, his name met Ron's and a third word appeared in the dark platinum. "Love," Harry read aloud.
When he looked up, he saw that Ron's ears had turned a ferocious shade of scarlet. It was quite obvious that he was embarrassed by the amount of time and precision that he had put into this ring, but there was no way that Harry could tell him what it meant to him. Without another word, Harry slipped the ring on his finger and smiled. He didn't bother talking; he knew at this point, it would be futile. Even as his mouth opened and closed, tears sprang to his eyes. It seemed that everything was right at this moment. He bent down to press a kiss to his lover's lips, but a knock sounded at the door.
With a small creak the door began to open; the first thing either of them saw was the brilliant green light emanating from the tip of someone's wand.