Journey to the Battlefront
Author's notes: Thanks to everyone who reviewed, you are so good! Please also read myother story, it's published now.
DISCLAIMER: OK! OK! I don't own anything, not even in my wildest dreams.Everything belongs to Rowling. The firstpoem in this chapter is an adaptation of a song from The First Book of Songes and Ayres by Robert Jones, published in 1601AD. Well, perhaps it's better to call it an adaptation from Shakespeare's adaptation of the original song in Twelfth Night or What You Will. The 2nd one is from canto VII from Tennyson's IN MEMORIUM A.H.H.
-Chapter Seven-
House Guest
Farewell, dear heart, since I must needs be gone;
Die or live may I but the war must be won.
But you will never die
For in my heart you lie.
" YOU GOT TO BE JOKING!" exclaimed Ron.
"I'm not." Said Harry. "I'm telling you exactly what Lupin told me, word by word."
"Then Lupin's got to be joking," he thundered, "I mean, is he mad or something, expecting you to let Draco Malfoy of people to stay in your house.."
"I said he may." Harry said. Ron stared at him in disbelief and then, as if to seek an explanation, turned to Hermione.
"Well, I suppose if he really did help the Order," she began uncertainly.
"He must have missed Lupin and hit Greyback accidentally," said Ron viciously, "being the idiot that he is."
"But then he turned on to hex the other deatheaters." Said Harry. Neither of the two looked convinced. "Look," he said firmly, " Dumbledore wanted to give Malfoy a chance and I'm going to do just that." Ron was looking thoroughly disgruntled.
"Its your house Harry, so its up to you who you let in there," said Hermione, "but please remember its also the headquarters of the Order."
"Don't worry," Harry assured her, "I won't let Kreacher to mess up things a second time."
There was silence in the kitchen. Mrs.Weasley was humming an old tune, a happy content expression on her face and Aunt Muriel was snoring loudly. Fred and George were already in their room, packing. They were to return to their flat in Diagon Alley after breakfast. A few enchanted tiny stars continued to bounce of the ceiling. Harry, Ron, Hermione were all lost in their own thoughts about the path that lay before them. The candles burnt low as the flames flickered, and light flitted on and off their shadowy faces like a fickle friend.
They left the burrow early the next morning. Ron's parent's made one last failed attempt to find out where they were going. Mrs.Weasley was crying. The content cheerfulness of the previous evening was now missing in her face like it has never been there, the old worried fearful look was back. Harry knew her eyes would now dart back to the old clock in the kitchen more often. She hugged each of them tightly. Ginny, who had been conspicuous by her absence the previous evening was standing at the door, her face resembling the calm sky that hides a storm. "Where are you three going?" she asked, the first time she had asked that question.
"Twelve Grimauld Place." Harry replied, well aware that Ginny hadn't really asked about their immediate destination. There was a powerful aching inside his heart. All of a sudden, he was feeling he did not really want to go anywhere; he was at the Weasleys', the best home in the world, with his best friends, with the girl he loved more than the world, with his surrogate family of the last six years. He did not want to leave. But if he stayed, he would risk the lives of these very people he loved so much. He had to go, for them, and for those dead he had loved and who had loved him- Sirius, Dumbledore, his parents… "Bye" he whispered, forcing to keep his voice steady.
Hermione hugged Ginny tightly. "We'll miss you." She said.
"We will return. Soon. " Ron said in a falsely cheerful voice.
A few moments later, they arrived at the musty drawing room of Harry's new home.
Dark house, by which I once more stand
Here in the long unlovely street,
Doors, where my heart was used to beat
So quickly, waiting for a hand.
He is not here; but far away
The noise of life begins again,
And ghastly thro' the drizzling rain
On the bald street breaks the blank day.
Grimauld Place was as dismal and musty as ever, or perhaps more to Harry who was seeing the haunted face of his godfather staring at him everywhere. He felt miserable. He had never wanted to be back there, it was his sense of responsibility, responsibility that Sirius had entrusted him that brought him there. He could not avoid owning the place. The one saving grace was that Sirius' mother was not shouting. She had apparently not been woken up by the arrival of three people she considered filth and scum and unworthy to step into her ancestors' abode.
"Kreacher!" called Harry.
Crack! An old ugly elf appeared at their feet and gave a pitiful bow. Master called?" he asked in his wheezy voice. "The Potter brat is back in the house! Oh my poor mistress, what would she say?" he muttered loudly.
"Hello Kreacher." Said Hermione politely.
Kreacher gave an outraged cry. "The mudblood is talking to Kreacher, if his mistress only knew.."
"Don't call her that!" said Harry and Ron together.
"The Order and Draco Malfoy are coming to stay." Harry said.
The elf fixed his malevolent yellow eyes on Harry. "Did Kreacher hear right?" he asked, "My mistress' great nephew coming to stay, oh Kreacher is happy, very happy to serve.."
"You will return to Hogwarts and stay there.' Said Harry coldly. "I have called you here to tell you a few things. You are not to contact Malfoy in anyway, not to take orders from anybody except me, not to carry messages from or to him for anyone, and you are not to leave Hogwarts unless I call you."
Kreacher gave Harry a look of pure loathing, bowed and then disapparated.
Harry looked around to his friends. "To Godric's Hollow then.."
Chapter8: Godric's Hollow
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