Whispering Wizards

By grimerNOSEPASSditto

Again, I disclaim

I do not own Harry Potter, he's Jo's. Not mine … as much as I wish he was. I did, however make up these characters.

A/N: Alright, Chapter two! Yayayayayayayay. Be sure to review. I appreciate constructive criticism.

Chase beamed down at his little-by-a-minute brother, who stared confusedly back up at him. He pretty much heard his exact thoughts. Why Hogwarts? Ever since they were born, their names had been down for Buruwang School for Magical Education and Training, a little-known magic school off the south-eastern coast of Australia. They were expecting their letter from there soon, but Chase was told a few minutes before that their parents had made other arrangements and they were now moving to England to attend the most famous school of magical learning in the world. It was shocking.

"So, are you gonna get up and eat?" Chase asked turning and walking out the door into the black-and-green-coloured hallway, illuminated by a single, wall-sized window at the end, expecting his brother to follow him. He strode swiftly along the hall until he came across the door to his own bedroom. He kicked it open (one of his habits) and swept in. He had already had breakfast, so there was no point in going back into the kitchen, especially if he were to meet parents there. Oh, the pain of having parents who care next to nothing about their two sons.

Chase's room was a lot messier than his brother's, though it was a lot brighter as well. There was a large window facing east that overlooked the large blue mass of ocean. After staring out at the view, though, your eyes would immediately fall down onto the newspaper-and-letter-covered desk, long quills and empty ink bottles strewn higgledy-piggledy on top of these papers. Next to the desk is a long, narrow, but very comfortable bed, covered in black sheets and dark green covers.

The floor was just a pile of clothes; there was barely a patch of floor visible. But soon, all of this would be gone and the room would be bare of everything. It would be magicked to the new house somewhere in England where they would spend the rest of their lives.

At the other end of the room was a large, usually empty armoire which stood next to a tall cage which would usually hold some kind of owl. Not Chase's owl, no, it was only ever occupied by other peoples' owls, when people sent him letters (which was hardly ever) he would let them sleep for a while in the cage until the return letter is finished.

Chase waded through his clothes and slumped into the chair at his desk and picked up a newspaper that had just been delivered, a large tawny frogmouth was holding its little leg out to collect his money. Chase bit his lip and scanned his room. He was sure there were some knuts in his other pants, it was just the problem of finding which other pants they were.

"Ah-hah!" he said diving off his seat onto a pair of light blue skin-tight jeans (the only muggle pants he'd ever wear, so comfortable) and took five bronze coins from the pocket. He lifted himself back onto the chair and placed the knuts into the little pouch on the frogmouth's leg and let it fly out the window. He then picked up his paper, unfolding it and reading the front page title: Delusions or Dumbledore?

Intrigued already, he continued reading.

The so-named greatest wizard of all time, Albus Perciville Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was apparently sighted in an alley a few streets away from the main entrance by the British Ministry of Magic by the Head of Auror Office, Harry James Potter last week as he was on his way back to his home that afternoon, writes Bonny Blande, special correspondent. It seems that the boy who defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort had seen him only on first look, on his double take, the man was gone. He tells us that what he had seen was real, not a delusion. But how can one see the dead?

"On the second look, though he was not there, I did notice a slight ringing in my ears that soothed me after my long day of work." Mr Potter tells us. "It was then that I noticed the tune to be the same as his old phoenix, Fawkes' song." This, it appears, is the reason why he was so sure that the man was still alive.

This was not the first sighting of the old wizard. British Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt had also seen Dumbledore as he was leaving his office that night.

"I picked up the papers I was about to take home and went to leave, when I realised I had left my keys in the drawer." Minister Kingsley says. He turned, his eyes skimming past the door where he saw the former Hogwarts Headmaster standing there staring at him. He greeted Dumbledore, picked up his keys and realised what he had just seen. On his second look, Dumbledore was gone, but instead of the 'phoenix song' in his head, he saw a flash og shimmering golden flames.

Is Albus Dumbledore's death playing tricks on his friends' minds? Or have they just all turned delusional? OR is he really alive? If he is, dark wizards everywhere have something to fear.

Chase's eyebrows rose. This was definitely odd news. It was a wonder how it ever made front page. He flicked through the pages of the newspaper, failing to find anything interesting and threw it over his head onto the clothes behind him. He rubbed his face with his hands and leant forward onto the desk, his eyes closing into his arms. How boring.

He lifted himself back up and took a letter labelled in curvy, emerald writing. The letter he had received that morning. He unfolded the letter for what seemed like the hundredth time that day and read through it. How were they going to get to England, exactly? Apparation only gets you so far, as does the Floo network. It was hardly likely that his parents would want to use muggle transport, what with their dislike for the non-magic and all, but then again, there was no other way.

Standing up, Chase waded back through the thick layer of his clothes and yanked open a door of his armoire, looking at his profile in the mirror. He was average in height and build, his long, black hair was pulled into a long fringe, cut around his right eye and moulding into his shoulder-length sideburns. His eyes were a brilliant, electric blue; they stood out wonderfully against his ivory skin. He moved away from the mirror and changed from his pyjamas to his usual attire, his light blue, denim, skin-tight jeans and a simple, white shirt which fitted to his exact frame. People said he was a little young to become so induced by such a stereotype, but he had always thought it was great, as did Aiden.

Aiden was the same as Chase, pretty much, though his eyes were duller, his hair was cut a few centimetres shorter and coloured a light brown, his skin was slightly more tanned and he was a bit taller than Chase was. Their parents really did not care about their looks. They didn't care about them at all. However, the twins had a tight bond and were never discouraged by their parents' lack of interest in them.

Chase crossed his room and kicked open his door again, but as he did so, his eye was caught by the newspaper he had throws onto the clothing-covered floor. It had flipped to a page he had skipped accidentally. A large picture of a werewolf covered almost half the page, above it was the heading: Local Werewolf Attacks on Wizarding Families.

He decided he'd leave the story for a while and go downstairs. He had gotten quite hungry; it had been at least three hours since he had had breakfast. He reached the end of the hallway and turned to run down the staircase when he came face to face with his father, Aiden tagging behind, both looked anxious. Chase could hear pleading murmurs from below. He opened his mouth to talk, but he saw Aiden shake his head wildly and closed it immediately. The two were led by their father back along the hallway and into the last bedroom. It was completely empty apart from a wardrobe and a queen-sized four-poster bed.

"Stay in here, do not leave until one of us comes to get you." he said quickly before streaking out of the room, wand in his hands. The hem of his black robes had barely disappeared from behind the doorway when Chase turned to his brother.

"Wha-" He began, but was immediately interrupted.

"Werewolves. They just – appeared. I have no idea where from, but there was a knock on the door while I was asking how we were getting to England and mum went to answer the door as dad explained how we were going to take an aeroplane, then dad went … kind-of stiff and almost dragged me up the stairs. He had his wand out the whole time. I saw them – er - change as we started coming up here. There're at least three of them. I have no idea why they're attacking us, we don't hate them in any way and it's so confusing."

"It is." Chase said quietly. There was a loud crash from downstairs and he stood up, ready to head for the door, but Aiden grabbed his arm and held him back, staring at him in a 'dad-said' way. "Right."

They stayed in the room for about half an hour, not speaking, just listening to the occasional crash from downstairs. There was a pounding coming up the stairs, but their father's voice erupted from the other silence, drowning it out.

"Stupefy!"

There was a dull thump and a great deal of snarling and barking. There weren't just three.

"How did they manage to change in daylight?" Chase finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No idea. We'll have to ask dad when he comes back." replied Aiden, attacking his bottom lip with his teeth.

A thump echoed from downstairs and both twins were filled with a sickening sensation as their father's voice roared in outrage. Both sets of eyes became tennis balls as thundering explosions came from below and whimpers announced the lycanthropes' fleeing. The boys stood up and the thumping of feet up the stairs became present. The door was bashed open and the bed and cupboard disappeared with a speedy swish of their father's wand.

"Pack your things now, we're leaving." He boomed at his children before turning and hurrying downstairs. Aiden ran into his room and Chase into his own. He, Chase, immediately began scooping up the masses of clothes on the floor and shoving them messily into the cupboard. There was a moment where he stared at the green carpets of his floor and admired its oddness compared to the usual chaos of clothing that usually littered it. He then noticed the newspaper on the floor. His eyebrows raised and he picked it up.

"No time to read, boy, let's go!" His dad was at his door, Aiden behind him, waving his wand viciously, everything disappearing before them. "We're taking the next plane to London. Let's get downstairs now."

"Where's mum?" Aiden dared to ask. He refused to reply.

"She can't be-" Chase began his heart racing as they hurried down the stairs, the paper was still clutched in his hand.

"Shut your mouth, boy!" Their father's eyes had started to water as he bellowed. They were now out the front door and walking quickly down the street. "Hold on to my arms, boys."

Both did as they were told, grasping firmly onto their father's arm and he turned on his heel. Everything went black. Chase's arms were being squeezed. His legs were being compressed. His whole body was being completely constricted beyond belief. If it wasn't for his eyes being forced into the back of his skull, they would have exploded out of their sockets completely.

And then it stopped.

A/N: Aiight. That was Chapter two. I dun reckon it was as good as the first chapter, but I say I still went well. Your turn to give opinions.