A/N: Thank you, Christina Teresa and Seakays, for the especially-quick turnaround on this beta and for the use of your ever-brilliant writers' minds to help me throughthe exhaustion-induced rough spots. Also, many thanks to faithful reviewers Cake Twins, scooterrg, Radish Earrings, and rgluvr13. You are the best! NZ
Chapter 25
A Horse of a Different Color
Chapter 24 Summary:
Moody and Tonks discuss Harry's purported 'illness' and decide to swap duties with Shacklebolt and another Auror to check on Harry magically. They find evidence that Harry's wand and his broomstick are indeed registering in his room at the Dursleys, so they assume they needn't worry any more about him – other than for his health. Later that evening, Moody makes a visit to the twins' shop for potion ingredients, only to discover some suspicious goings-on there and Howard – with whom he seems to share some sort of past. At Trapperton, Ron and Harry spend much of the day discussing the motorbike while Hermione fulfills her duties as intern. Hermione brings news that she intercepted a memo stating that they've changed the ward security codes Ron and Harry used to get in, not to mention that a guard will be kept on the camp at all times and the dogs have permanent access to the runs. Hermione still wants to try and ship some of the partially burned food to the Ministry as proof. She creates a plan to have the boys help her move the motorbike and Fred's broom to the habitat, where they've realized there will be no overhead wards to deal with, so that they can access their transportation out of there once they've completed the food shipment to the Ministry. On their way back to camp from the habitat, they hear a horse and follow the sound to find Spyder standing over the freshly-killed animal. The Yeti present are appalled and Trey begins to perform a Yeti banishment ritual for Spyder for the crime, but the ritual is interrupted by the handlers, Voyde, and Smeggers, who praise Spyder for the kill. Spyder is lavishly rewarded with extra food and the rest of the Yeti are forced at wand point to watch him eat it while they go hungry.
>>>ES
"But it was right here!" Hermione said in disbelief. "It was!"
She and Dr. Null stood in the middle of Feeding Station Two not more than two hours after she'd been watching nearby with Ron and Harry. But there was no horse, no blood – and no Yetis. The only evidence that there had ever been any life there at all were the flattened, empty food cartons, complete with footprints stamped across the tops of them.
After returning to the camp earlier with Harry and Ron, she'd gone to Dr. Null's cabin and tried to rouse him without drawing attention to herself, her friends hidden in watch nearby. But there'd been no response after some ten minutes of soft knocking (figures he'd be such a sound sleeper in those few hours he allows himself to sleep at all, she thought irritably). Then the constant interruptions by the returning handlers began as they wandered around the camp making certain all was Spell-Locked and warded for the remainder of the night. Eventually, the three friends had been driven back to Hermione's cabin.
"I reckon we're not going anywhere again tonight--" Ron said dejectedly, "—what with those morons out and about all this time."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Might as well try and get some sleep to see what we can get done tomorrow."
"But there'll be another food shipment tomorrow," Hermione offered. "Most of what was to be burned went to that murderous Yeti tonight anyway. There wouldn't have been anything substantial enough to send to the Ministry half-burned if we'd wanted to. Maybe tomorrow –"
Hermione looked hopefully into the faces of her friends as she spoke, but Ron interrupted her with what Harry was likely too polite to say. "Things are getting really ugly here, Hermione, with or without Umbridge. Maybe it's just the exhaustion talking, but maybe we ought to see what looks even possible tomorrow before we decide what to do about it. Mostly, we just need to find a way to get the hell out of here before any of us gets hurt. Without you and maybe your Dr. Null, your Yeti are up the creek anyway – so maybe you need to concentrate more on just getting out alive. What you have to realize is that these blokes aren't just going to let anyone prance right out of here. If they think you've even caught a hint of what's been going on . . ."
At this, Ron trailed off and she'd said nothing more, because, in truth, Ron was right.
But she hadn't been able to sleep – not yet. Not until she'd finally roused Dr. Null and shown him what lay on the habitat floor. Sneaking out alone through the bathroom window after the boys had fallen asleep and the camp had quieted, Hermione had slipped to Dr. Null's doorstep. With her wandtip jammed beneath the crack of the door, she'd performed an Alarm Charm of ever-increasing volume until the zooliwizard had come around and finally answered in baggy shorts and a battered white t-shirt.
The forest had been deathly quiet as they walked. The events of the night had apparently so stunned the Yeti that all had wandered off, bewildered and confused. No doubt Spyder was somewhere sleeping off his enormous feast.
"I believe you, Hermione. But it's not here now, so it does us no good," Christopher Null said in disappointment. He kicked the flattened carton of a food box away, momentarily slipping on another piece of cardboard, losing his balance and nearly dropping the wizard camera he'd brought along. "I know Spyder's a killer – he's done it before. It was, in fact, on one of the first nights you were here."
Hermione's gaze snapped to her mentor's face. "You've known he could kill bigger animals – for that long?"
"Beamer must have been sent to call Dr. Voyde that first night you were here and now that I think about it, he must have called me in error – poor bloke probably wasn't aware then that I wasn't supposed to know what had happened. I thought...hoped...the killing was a one-time event. I assumed the poor horse had wandered into the habitat somehow from a neighboring farm and believed the whole thing might have had something to do with the male challenges. Afterwards, I went back to the lab to get a camera to record the evidence – the horse's body and the blood –as proof for my aggression research, you know. When I returned, this was precisely what I found." Null sighed as he held out his hands to indicate the rather barren patch of dirt. "At first I thought the Yeti had dragged the horse away – yet somehow the crime scene had been obliterated far too efficiently. Beamer had told me Spyder had done the killing..." Null trailed off for a moment in thought, "...I still can't quite believe Spyder kills for pleasure, but more for status – or personal gain perhaps. In the beginning I believed he'd killed the horse by mistake because as you know, the Yeti are not those sort of creatures by nature."
Hermione thought back to the pictures in Trey and Starr's cave and wondered if she should let on that she'd been inside it to see them. "They're not those sort of creatures by nature, but...could they be trained? Trained to kill?"
Null gave a wan little smile. "Quite the brilliant intern you are, Hermione. Since that first killing, I've heard and seen other things so often that now I'm convinced I'm making no mistake about what Voyde and the handlers are doing. But to answer your question...if the Yeti can be trained to communicate with us, as we already know they can be, then...yes, it's possible they could be trained to kill. Not all of them, mind, because as you know, not all of them can even be trained to communicate – and that is far more a part of their nature than killing. It would be much more difficult to train a creature against its own nature."
"Even if that creature received great rewards for the killing?" Hermione asked. "Even if any other creature who tried to interfere with the killing itself or with group punishment for doing it was harmed?" Briefly, Hermione explained to Dr. Null what she'd seen in the feeding area earlier that night with Harry and Ron.
She paused to let him absorb it while she tore at her own insides trying to decide whether to tell him more. Though her heart told her one thing and her mind told her another, it was the interest of science that brought her both a conclusion and a very queasy stomach. "And Dr. Null?" she continued meekly, "I think...I might I know another way that Dr. Voyde and the handlers are training them."
Hermione then gently, but very deliberately and in great detail, proceeded to tell the brilliant, celebrated Crystobel Prize-winning zoolowizard just how his pet research and development project had been warped and twisted into something to train evil and hatred into the very creatures he sought to save. Elements of the communication system that were originally meant to give an endangered species the means to communicate their needs to the wizarding world had been scrawled crudely and obscenely on the Yetis' cave walls in an effort to turn the creatures into merciless killers.
She had almost stopped mid-explanation. Watching Dr. Null as she spoke - his shoulders slumping, his eyes becoming more sunken and lifeless, his head falling forward as if under the great weight of having been the creator of greatness-turned-curse – she began to fear for his health, both mental and physical, and wondered if she'd been right to speak of this at all.
"You've seen this – all of this – yourself?" Dr. Null said quietly.
"Yes," Hermione breathed. "Yes, sir."
"How did you – the caves?" Null appeared to be somewhat numb.
"Starr," she said.
Null nodded as if that almost made sense. "Have you any idea why it's horses?" he asked uncertainly.
What a strange question right now, Hermione thought. "Er..no, sir. Have you?"
The zooliwizard looked slowly away from her then, as if in deep thought, then, appearing to suddenly remember someone was awaiting an answer, he vaguely shook his head. Null turned to look at her in a rather sidelong manner. "Exactly how many times have you managed to get out into the habitat on your own, Hermione?"
It hadn't occurred to Hermione that Null might ask her that. She'd been too absorbed in the heinousness of the crime and in trying to get him out here to see it himself. "I – I – well, tonight for instance, I was going for a walk after dinner– and I saw them taking extra food out into the habitat. None of the Yeti were around and I went in right behind the handler who left the gate open a little, so I didn't think it would do any harm to go watch them at feeding time. Like you and I did – I hid under the platform."
She hadn't been able to look at the zoolowizard as she spoke for fear he would see the lies in her eyes. But she looked at him now to see any reaction on his face. She could easily discern the resignation she'd seen there since the incident with Flaime – the only other thing she read was a lack of any emotion at all, an empty coldness she hadn't seen before.
"You know better than to go there alone at any time without permission, Hermione, though I suspect it was a far less impulsive move than you've made it sound. Though I suppose this time, at least, I won't have to explain to anyone how I managed to allow you out there on your own," Dr. Null said dejectedly, turning away and shaking his head. He appeared years older somehow. " To teach the Yeti to kill...is not only a crime in our world, but a crime against the laws of nature..."
Watching him turn to walk slowly away, Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. "Dr. Null! You mean you're not going to report it? Or make a record...?"
Null suddenly snapped and wheeled on her with an aggressiveness she'd never seen before. "Report what? Make a record of what? I saw nothing! No matter how certain I may be of what actually happened out here, no matter how much I want to show the Ministry, no matter if I really do believe every blasted word you've said, it doesn't matter without any evidence. Do you have pictures of these cave paintings?"
Taken aback, Hermione stammered, "N-no, but I suppose we could—"
"Do you think I'm going to be able to just stroll on out there into the caves without anyone knowing? Me and all of my allies here in the camp and at the Ministry? How about proof that they're using positive reinforcement for the killings? Have any of that?" He paced before her as he ranted, arms flailing.
Hermione shook her head, trying desperately to think of what she could use to help. "No, I don't, sir...but—"
"Don't you see, Hermione? It's the word of a lone zoologist who's been damned with circumstantial evidence – one who a lot of people would like to see taken down a peg -- against the word of seven others who are still highly respected in the field, no matter what kind of beasts they are!"
Hermione felt tears of frustration welling up in her eyes – both for herself and for the one man at Trapperton who could actually help the Yeti – and who was being prevented by politics and government hearsay from doing so.
"I – I'm your ally, sir. I can report it," she said, trying to sound braver than she felt. "And I will! I saw it all. I can help you."
Null stopped before her, sighing and looking into her face, purposely trying to speak more calmly this time. "Hermione. I know you're full of good intentions, but don't you see? You have no evidence either – not to mention while reporting the incident you'd have to explain why you were out in the habitat without permission while under my mentorship. It would only make matters worse for me, but then..." He stopped to heave a great, sad sigh. "Actually, it's becoming hard to see how things could get any worse. I see no way out, no matter how long I put off the inevitable. My work here is probably done. My life's work may be done as well. So...go ahead...if you feel the need to report it, then you should. But don't say I didn't warn you that those in the Ministry of Magic watch everything and once you've made an accusation against one of them or theirs, you may not be able to dislodge their grudges and prejudices for a very, very long time."
"One of them or theirs?" she quoted. "You mean Dr. Nardstone and Dr. Voyde, don't you? Did you know they were related?"
Dr. Null smiled a bit wistfully. Hands in his shorts pockets now that he'd slung the camera strap over his shoulder, he kicked at a pebble on the ground as he spoke. "You know, sometimes you can become so absorbed in your work, you somehow miss little things that turn out to be very big things in the end. I suppose that's what I get for being outside of the Ministry circles for so long on location for my studies. I really thought that was what scientific studies were supposed to be about—the research, the science. But it seems it's much more important who you know and who you're related to in the wizarding world sometimes."
Null looked up at Hermione. "No, I didn't know Dr. Nardstone was her uncle. I'm sure, now that we've seen what their intentions are, that they're hiding behind his title and his reputation somehow – though I haven't a clue as to how they're doing it or why. But he's still our guest – and our connection to the Ministry as well. As ridiculous as it sounds, I can't ignore my own responsibilities in that regard until they formally charge me or pull me from the program. I – both of us – need to get some more sleep to be prepared for whatever tomorrow may bring. If you feel the need to leave here due to the violence, or the situation, or to go to the Ministry yourself, I fully understand – and I'll help you stay safe in any way I can. But please also believe me when I say I have no idea what's coming next week, or tomorrow, or in the next five minutes for that matter, so there's no way I can advise you what to do. Unofficially, I would tell you it's becoming ever more dangerous here. But, officially, I know nothing, so there's nothing I can force you to do either."
Hermione felt for the man. It was obvious Dr. Null had been watching his life's hopes and dreams crumble before his eyes ever since the incident with Flaime – and it had only got worse with time and Dr. Voyde's plans.
"Don't worry, I'm staying," Hermione said, "at least until I can try one last thing to help you. If it doesn't work out, we'll know soon enough and then I'll decide from there."
Dr. Null smiled faintly at her. "Please don't get yourself into trouble on my account. You're young, you have a lot to consider before you make a wrong move. Besides -- right now it feels like it would take a ruddy miracle to save this place and my work with the Yeti."
Hermione tried to cheer him with what little hope she had left herself. "I don't know that I can save anything. But I won't leave before I make one last try, you can be sure of that."
"Thank you, Hermione," Null said earnestly. "I know it's not easy assisting me, but you've done one bang-up job of it. I just wanted you to know in case you change your mind and leave. If ever, after this fiasco, I manage to put together some semblance of a reputation, any Letters of Recommendation will be sterling. Oh - and we'll just leave out those few little lapses in good judgment, like taking a twilight stroll or two alone in the habitat."
"Thank you, sir," Hermione said.
A faint rustle in the bushes startled them from their conversation.
"We'd better go," Dr. Null said. "I know most of the handlers came into camp and headed for their quarters earlier. Plus the Yeti have been so quiet the past few hours I'm sure it seems a bit unusual. There should still be one guard on duty in the camp now, though; it could be very dangerous for us to be seen out here, and especially for you to be seen in conversation with me at this time of night even coming from here. We'll head for the gates, but you go through the lab building first and do what you can to get quietly back to your quarters. I'll do the same, but I'll leave a few minutes after you've gone."
The rustle in the brush became louder and Hermione couldn't help but look in that direction in hopes of seeing which Yeti it might be – though, oddly, it didn't sound large enough to be a Yeti at all. It struck a chord in her mind that Dr. Null was right -- someone might be most interested in the fact that she was reporting what she'd seen, especially if the zoolowizard might have otherwise missed it.
The walk out of the habitat was uneventful, aside from the fact that Hermione had noticed the birds were beginning to stir with the very faint lightening of the sky to the east. Her head ached with the weight of everything that had happened throughout the night. It occurred to her that she had yet to sleep before she faced a full day of trying to make last-minute arrangements to get a half-destroyed food shipment to the Ministry before she took leave of this place. The temptation to go sleep for most of the day and not worry about keeping up appearances that this was just another workday crossed her mind. But she'd already promised Dr. Null, and intrinsic in that promise was an unspoken vow to the Yeti to help them too...
>>>ES
From the far door of the lab building, Hermione mentally mapped out a path that would take her far from the half- sleeping guard who had stationed himself at the front door to the commons. Probably had poor Tulip up all night making coffee and serving him food, Hermione thought disgustedly. In fact, she could see stacked at the side of his tilted-back chair on the front stoop, a pile of dishes and cups that had no doubt kept Tulip up for most of the night right along with him. Pigs, she thought, having trouble thinking of even one redeeming act she'd witnessed from any of the handlers.
The loud snap of a twig behind her shocked her from her thoughts. She knew better than to turn and give notice that she'd heard it. Listening ever more carefully though, she continued her chosen path in hopes that it might have been some kind of nocturnal animal returning to the habitat after raiding the commons rubbish bins.
But there was definitely something there behind her. It reminded her far too closely of whatever had been rustling in the brush while she and Dr. Null were at the Feeding Station. She could feel it now that she was paying attention. Her heartbeat quickened, she moved along more rapidly, trying to reach inconspicuously toward her back pocket for her wand. An occasional rustle or crunching of leaves told her now it was either something very large or...
Another loud snap and its aftermath suddenly made her sigh in relief, though only to herself. Thank Merlin she'd recognize those sounds anywhere –a smile played across her lips as she planned her next move.
Waiting until she was in an area open enough that whatever was behind her would have to reveal itself to follow, she reached back. Wheeling around suddenly and whipping her wand out to point it at whatever had been behind her, she whispered only loud enough that the sleeping guard could not possibly hear her from this distance.
"Petrificus Totallarum!"
Clapping a hand over her mouth at the sight before her, she had a terrible time stifling a full-on laugh out loud. The sight of one set of long legs following another shorter, but quicker set into the brush in what was obviously a head-first dive was completely hilarious. But the confirmation of her suspicions made her glad she'd purposely changed the incantation on the Full Body-Bind Spell to render it harmless just in case.
Since there was no further response from her two best friends who had dived into the bushes, she decided to continue the game a bit further and waited for them to get much closer behind her before she began to talk softly to 'herself'.
"Surely Harry and Ron, those great gits, would know it was completely unnecessary to follow me because any good friends would know perfectly well that I can take care of myself." Since they were now within a few meters of the back of her cabin and out of earshot of anyone or anything else, she rapidly turned and ran at them while they were thoroughly engrossed in staring toward the camp proper to make certain nothing would spot them.
Startling them both once they faced forward and saw someone hurtling at them, Hermione purposely charged into the front of Harry and Ron, causing them all to grab one another's arms to stay upright and burst into fits of snickers and stifled giggles. Pushing and shoving gently and playfully, the three friends worked their way onto the porch of Hermione's cabin. They tumbled through and Spell-Locked the door before collapsing in various places in the room with the sort of laughter that was necessary when the world around them got too tense and tough to bear.
Once things had quieted a bit and Hermione was momentarily staring at the ceiling from where she'd landed sprawled in laughter on the bed, two distinct and compelling thoughts entered and stuck in her mind. One was that she was going to need a few hours of sleep to relieve the exhaustion beginning to lay itself heavily upon her. The second was the overwhelming thankfulness and wonder at how she'd ever got along without Harry and Ron for the first eleven years of her life.
>>>ES
There were fingers on her bare ankle, she was quite certain. Awakening enough to realize how unlikely that was, she concentrated on the feeling again without opening her eyes. No...no...those were definitely fingers...attached to a large, warm hand that wrapped around her ankle and seemed to be rather half-heartedly rubbing and shaking at her foot to get her attention.
Hermione sighed loudly, resigning herself to the fact that she'd have to wake up fully to find out what was going on. She moaned in resentment, pulling the blanket up around her chest and pushing herself into a sitting position. Her bare foot stuck out below the end of the blanket and over the edge of the bed – and it was there that the hand gained access from the end of a long, freckled arm.
"Ron," she whined sleepily. "What are you doing?"
"Ubat the beeper sputz," Ron mumbled into his leather jacket pillow without waking.
This looked to be too much effort. She considered falling back on the bed and leaving the hand where it was just to get a few more hours of sleep. If Ron had in some way violated her ankle, she could better deal with it later when she was awake. Then the rubbing and shaking began anew.
She sighed. "Ron!" she said more emphatically, lightly slapping at his fingers.
"Aughh!" he responded, fully awakening in surprise, then relaxing a bit once he found it was only her smacking him. He blinked up at her from the floor with impossibly heavy eyes, released her ankle, and used the same hand to point lazily at the window with the shades still drawn. "Looked earlier. Sun's way up now, 'erminee. You s'posed to be somewhere?"
"What?" she said irritably. "What?" she said more loudly, blinking herself awake.
Hermione threw herself out of bed and toward the window. She pulled the shade away and immediately squinted at the brightness of the day.
"Oh god!" she said, beginning to panic. "The mail! I'm late!"
Flying into the loo, Hermione quickly yanked on a clean shirt and smoothed the rumpled walking shorts she'd apparently fallen asleep in the night before. Throwing water on her face and drying it, then quickly dragging a brush madly through her hair, she launched herself over the bed and into the desk chair to pull on socks and tie on her boots.
"Sorry," she mumbled to Harry as she bumped his sleeping body while trying to walk the narrow line of empty floor between her two best friends. Ron had gone back to sleep too after finally managing to awaken her.
"Oh..." she moaned after looking at her shorts again by the bureau. "No time to talk, Pig," she whispered then after the little owl awoke and fluffed himself, then swiveled his head to face her. She grabbed her wand and quickly pointed it to do a quick Un-Wrinkle Charm on her shorts and a BrushMeQuick!Charm on her teeth (my parents would kill me if they knew! she thought). Wand into the pocket and – hair! She noticed her bushy, brushed hair fluffing back into her face just in time to grab a rubber hair band and dart out the door.
From the stoop she was surprised to see a great deal of activity in the center of camp again. A number of people were back at the Portkey site and several more were making their way towards it, including Dr. Null, who looked tired and drawn but determined even from a distance.
Hermione briefly thought that perhaps the mail ought to be her first priority so that she could make certain the Space Dislocation window was kept open for a possible burning food delivery to the Ministry later that day. Somewhere in the few minutes before they'd all fallen asleep earlier this morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had decided that in spite of what had happened, she'd probably be safest just carrying on with her duties until later in the day when they could make the attempt to accomplish everything they had planned the night before: ship the half-burnt food to the Ministry, make their way back through camp, get the motorbike and Fred's broomstick in the habitat, and be gone from this place. But she had to continue on as if nothing had happened, so as not to make anyone suspicious. Harry and Ron intended to shadow her whenever they could to make sure she was safe (though of course she had insisted that was not at all necessary).
She intercepted Dr. Null about thirty meters from the Portkey site. "What's going on?"
"You'll never believe it," he said rather coldly. Obviously, his morning was going no better after sunrise than it had before. "They should have warned us this Ministry visitation was some type of family reunion. Now it seems another of Dr. Voyde's relatives is showing up - her half-brother, half-sister, half-uncle – something."
How stupid, Hermione thought. "But I need to get the –"
"Mail?" Null interrupted shortly. "Later."
She and Dr. Null had reached the group that was more or less circled at the Portkey site by now, but Hermione hung back behind the zooliwizard. Continuing to fuss with her clothes, she adjusted her belt and re-tucked her shirttails since her hasty preparation and exit had left her feeling as if she was only half-dressed. Grabbing the rubber hair band from her pocket, she looked down and leaned forward a bit to gather her hair behind her head and tried to force its mass into the tiny elastic circle. As she worked, she felt those around her suddenly begin to mumble and move and she assumed that whatever Voyde relative was coming was materializing on the pad at that moment.
"Welcome to Trapperton, dear," she heard Dr. Voyde coo in her most saccharine voice.
Ergh, Hermione thought. Wonder how criminal this one is? What could be their piece of this gruesome plan...? She reflexively waited to hear the response of the new guest.
And it came.
Hem, hem.
Hermione froze. Her face went immediately hot and her stomach felt as if it had plummeted straight to the ground. Oh, god-- no!
Peering cautiously around the lab-robed arm of Dr. Null, Hermione watched with dread as Dolores Jane Umbridge stepped daintily from the Portkey pad and appraised the crowd before her.
>>>ES
Tonks waved her hand in front of her nose to divert the steady stream of smoke billowing from the pipe of the wizard next to her. Whatever it was that he was smoking smelled positively lethal. Though she'd already waited nearly fifteen minutes in the long queues for the lifts from the Atrium in the busy morning rush, she was pleased when it was his line that stepped forward.
Sighing and resigned to the fact that she was going to be late for her meeting and in trouble again, she took a moment to scan the crowd and see if any of her colleagues were going to be late as well. Somehow it never felt as bad that way.
Although she didn't find any of her co-workers, she did indeed spot a familiar face in the crowd four lines over. There, politely enduring and nodding to some ranting conversation from the crotchety old witch in front of him, was Arthur Weasley.
Poor man, Tonks thought, probably gets in far too much practice at that from home. As much as she loved Molly Weasley, she also knew the woman had her moments.
Making a snap decision to rescue him, and possibly get a question of her own answered in the process, Tonks began to excuse her way through the irritable crowd.
"Wotcher, Arthur!" she exclaimed loudly. She'd try to be polite to the crotchety witch, but if that didn't work, she knew she'd have to just barge right in anyway. "Pardon me, madam. So sorry to interrupt, but I've been trying to find this gent and give him a mean talking-to for some time now."
The old witch tutted and huffed, but turned around and faced forward nonetheless.
Arthur breathed a quiet sigh of relief. "Bless you, dear. I rather thought my ears would fall off before she was finished," he whispered.
Tonks smiled. "Ah, but you thought I was taking the mickey when I told her I needed to speak to you. Not so, I'm afraid. So you may be just as bothered with me by the end."
"Never by you, Nymphadora," Arthur said. "What's so important?"
"Harry, actually," she said quietly, adjusting her stance so that the scrolls the person next to her held weren't poking her in the side.
Arthur looked a bit alarmed. "Harry? What – is everything all right?"
"We think so," she replied. "But he's been inside the house a few days – wizard flu, we believe—" Noting the fact that several witches and wizards around them seemed far too interested in what she had to say in spite of the fact they were determinedly trying to look involved in their own business, she stopped. "Seem to be lots of big ears around here-- have a few minutes to spare?"
Arthur seemed to understand her concern. "Certainly. We don't seem to be making much progress anyway. Let's go."
Tonks stumbled once or twice and trod on the feet of several people in the crowd as she and Arthur stepped from the queue and walked toward the fountain in the center of the huge room. There was more space there as few people seemed to feel comfortable standing very close to the monstrosity even now.
Tonks briefly explained to Arthur what she and Moody had heard over the past few days. "I don't want to bother Harry if he's under the weather, but I'd like to make sure he's all right. Do you know – has Ron heard from him?"
"Well, it's rather doubtful, actually," Arthur said, looking a bit perplexed. "But I don't really know. Oddly enough, our Ron seems to be away on a business trip with Fred for a few days – or so his note and George have said. But we could call George through the fire at the shop and see if he's heard anything."
"How about now?" Tonks asked, anxious to truly know if Harry was ready for visitors. Of course she'd be starting watch duty there on Privet Drive this afternoon, but she'd much rather go in armed with the knowledge that she'd be welcome if the Dursleys would let her in to see him, rather than just barging in as she was so famous for doing. Besides, if she got information on Harry, it just might strengthen her excuse for being late to that Auror's meeting.
Laughing, Fred wandered through the doorway into the back of the shop with a covered tray of live bed bugs. "Just think of the things these little buggers have seen, eh, Geo—DAD!"
Startled by the sudden sight of his father's head in the fire, he tried to recover his composure quickly. "Dad! Wow. What a nice surprise! I had no idea you were coming...no idea..."
"Hello, George," Arthur said pleasantly. "Didn't mean to give you a fright. How are things going at the shop, son?"
His mind churning away, Fred quickly set the bed bug tray down on the large table in the center of the room so as not to drop it. Though the shop wasn't yet open for the day, the commotion at the front of the store told him there could be trouble if he didn't let everyone there know they had a visitor in the back. "We're fine. I mean, Howard and me – that's who I mean by 'we'. We're fine, DAD! How are you, DAD! It's good to see you, DAD!"
Arthur smiled. "Your Floo connection works perfectly well, son. There's no need to shout – I can hear you quite well."
That was precisely what was worrying Fred. "Oh. All right then—"
"What did you say, Fred!" George shouted from the other room. "Can't quite hear you with these honeybees buzzing—"
Fred was alarmed to see the curious look on his father's face.
"Is that your hired help – Howard, is it?" Arthur asked in amazement. "What a booming voice for a little fellow like that!"
"Yes, yes..." Fred stalled. "He's quite the talker, that one--"
"Fred? Cat got your tongue? Here kitty, kitty..." came more teasing shouts from the other room.
"Fred?" Arthur questioned, chuckling a bit. "Still gets the two of you confused then, does he? Makes me feel better about confusing you, I suppose, even if I am your father..."
Fred was beginning to feel just the slightest bit stressed. He also felt the slight tickle of perspiration breaking out on his brow. A few more words, then four, maybe five strides by George on the far side of that door, and all of their work to liberate Harry would be for nothing.
"Oh, look!" Arthur said pleasantly. "There he is now!"
Fred's heart jumped into his throat. He couldn't bear to look. "Dad, we can explain – honest –"
"Fre –" Howard started, then his eyes riveted to the face in the fire.
"Hello there, Howard!" Arthur said cheerfully.
"H –Howard?" Fred repeated, finally able to move and turn to see the part-fairy finish swooping through the doorway. "Oh – Howard! Yes! This is our dad, Howard – mine and Fred's!"
Howard held up a chubby hand in greeting and spoke rather unintelligibly around his cigarette butt 'cigar', his wings flapping nervously. "Pleased, I'm sure." His eyes darted first to Fred's with a meaningful look, then behind him into the front room.
"You know, Fred," came the voice from the other room, that Fred now realized was coming closer, "this bug supplier is much better –"
Fred turned his face away from the fire so that his father couldn't see. "Do something!" he mouthed silently to Howard, who seemed at a loss for what to do on such short notice.
Fred moved closer to the fire to obscure his father's view of whatever was going to take place behind him. "So what can I do for you, Dad? Did you need something, or is this more of a social call? We'll have to be opening up soon, so we're in a bit of a rush."
"—the bugs are much bigger and there aren't as many dead ones –" came the voice, even closer now.
"Oh, oh yes, of course. Is that still him?" Arthur asked after apparently hearing the sound of the voice, perplexed. "Oh, well – never mind that. Nymphadora Tonks is here with me now and it's really her question I need to ask."
Fred looked out of the corner of his eye enough to see Howard frantically scanning the shelves, then seizing and flying off with a large sheet of Stick'em to Tick 'Em Fly- and Peoplepaper.
"—'course, we do need some of them dead –"
"Yes, Dad?" Fred asked, trying to cover the voice and the view. "A question? You had a question?" He heard a scuffle behind him at the doorway to the front room and knew, just knew that George was standing there by now. Peeking back a moment, he saw Howard fly full force into George's face with the sticky paper, effectively muffling every word his twin said.
"Have you heard anything from Ron, or Fred?" Arthur asked.
Unintelligible shouts and protests came from behind Fred now. "No – no – haven't heard a thing. Everything must be going just fine, they haven't called in once – well, aside from letting us know they arrived all right." Fred knew that would be the next question if he didn't jump in and answer it first.
"Word is that Harry's ill, and Miss Tonks was just wondering if you knew –" Arthur said, stopping when he seemed to hear an especially loud round of smothered shouts, then craning his neck to see around Fred. "I say, is he quite all right back there?"
Fred glanced back quickly to see George trying to shout with a face fully covered in flypaper and a part-fairy yanking as heartily as he could from mid-air on the back of his shirt to drag him from the doorway into the front of the shop.
"Oh – yeah –" Fred started, trying to cover the smirk, "Howard makes those strange noises all the time – rather a quirk of his, you know? You get used to it."
"Oh," Arthur said, still looking a bit concerned. "All right, then. Well – have you heard anything about Harry – or the wizard flu perhaps?"
"No, can't say as I have," Fred said. "Sorry to hear Harry's feeling under the weather. Wizard flu, eh? Poor bloke. Maybe we'll pop round later if the shop's quiet enough. Howard and me, I mean. You know – that 'we'." He cringed. Bah! He'd done it again. He wasn't used to having George gone – or well, himself gone. Damn, this was confusing when there was only one of them here – in two bodies.
"All right, son," Arthur said. "Thank you anyway. Miss Tonks goes on duty with Mad-Eye at noon today, so perhaps she can check on him then and let us know, too. Do stop by for dinner if you don't feel like eating alone. Your mum and I would love to have you."
"Thanks, Dad," Fred said, eager to have this over with. "We'll see how things go later."
With a 'pop!' Arthur's head disappeared from the fire and Fred let out an enormous sigh of relief. "That was close," he mumbled. Taking a deep breath, he turned and started for the front room, speaking as he walked. "George, I think we've got a little visit to pay this afternoon – and this time you get to play someone. How do you feel about being the famous Harry Potter?"
>>>ES
Oddly enough, all Fred heard from George were some words that, even though they were muffled, sounded quite obscene.
"So, George..." Fred said, stepping onto the sidewalk. "Ready to earn that BWAFTA?"
Fred peered down Privet Drive, straining to see just how many of what type of bird was hiding in the trees. Some of them, he knew, were Dumbledore's spies.
He, George, and Howard had Apparated a good way down the street so as not to disturb the wards and Protection Spells Dumbledore had set up to guard Harry. The twins were also quite aware they would be unable to use magic, not only because they were in a Muggle neighborhood, but because anything would set off the Order alarms. There really was a plan in place now for this afternoon, dodgy as it was; when they had first struggled to find a way to break Harry out, little did they know they would later have to sneak another 'Harry' back in.
All Fred heard from the bushes was a round of cursing. "Now, now, George. Play fair. Not only did I have to donate my wand and broomstick, I did my bit this afternoon..."
"Yeah," the bush that sounded like George answered. "But that was only fooling Dad. How hard could that have been?"
Fred frowned in thought. "Well, it seemed tough at the time, however...you may have a point. But just look at it this way. It's you who has to step up and face the real challenge here. Yet we have faith, don't we, Howard? We know you can do it. Espionage, remember?"
Howard flicked ash from his cigarette butt just as a slight breeze blew it onto George's shoulder below where he hovered.
"Espionage, my mugwump's arse," George complained, brushing the ash from himself before he pointed threateningly at the part-fairy. "And you!"
Howard jumped back a bit in the air – as far as he could without hitting a large branch inside the bush.
"You stay away from me, you hear?" George said irritably, rubbing his cheek. "Must have been five layers of skin that fly- and peoplepaper took off."
"Sorry," Howard mumbled and stuck the cigarette butt back between his yellowish teeth.
"It's all right, Howard," Fred said. "He'll get over it in a day or two. Point is, you did what you had to do and I thought you did a right fine job." Fred scanned the area to make certain there would be no one to overhear. "Right, so remember you'll need to stay hidden in the brush, George, while we move down the street – you too, Howard. I'll just stroll down the sidewalk and find Tonks to distract her. Then you'll only need to watch for Moody while you climb the trellis up to Harry's room –"
"Only need to watch for Moody?" George said. "With his how many eyes going in how many different directions?"
"Look, I'll take them both on if I can get them together – all right? Now come on – let's go." Fred started wandering slowly down the street, trying to stay aware of George's slow progress along the same route through the bushes. It wasn't long before he saw a girl with long, dark brown hair sitting at an oddly misplaced trolley bench in front of the house next to Harry's aunt and uncle's. He was quite certain there hadn't been a trolley bench there before. That had to be Tonks.
"I see her," Fred whispered. "But no sign of Moody. Go ahead and start for the trellis. I'll cover you."
Fred wandered over to stand in front of Tonks where he could get a good view of the front of the Dursley's home. Making small talk with her at first after interrupting her novel-reading, he watched as George crossed the open area in the yard and climbed several feet up the trellis. She only tried to turn around twice during the conversation, and he managed to bring her attention back by questioning her on what Remus Lupin was up to these days.
George was nearly halfway up the trellis with Howard no doubt hiding somewhere, when the first sparrow started to take interest in what George was doing. It flew down and started diving to buffet George about the head with its tiny wings. George successfully ignored this, but soon three or four more sparrows joined the first and it appeared that he might soon have trouble holding onto the trellis while still batting at angry sparrows.
Fred was beginning to believe he might have to step in and do something else when he saw a round blur of wings and body shoot from somewhere below George and start diving amongst the sparrows itself. At first, he wasn't certain, but at a slowing point just before he dove again, Fred's suspicions were confirmed and he smiled.
Give 'em hell, Howard! he thought. Even if the sparrows were Dumbledore's allies, and meant to help keep Harry from harm, no one should have the right to hold Harry hostage his whole life. Howard swooped and dove, distracting the sparrows and making such a pest of himself that eventually they got angry with him, forgot George, and flew off behind the part-fairy in an attempt to drive him away.
"Something funny?" Tonks asked just as Fred watched George disappear through Harry's bedroom window.
"Just ruddy birds divebombing something," Fred said as Tonks swung around and stared at the house front in alarm. "They're gone now."
Tonks frowned, apparently frustrated that she hadn't seen which birds they were. "Oh."
"Well, I don't have too much time away from the shop, so I reckon I ought to get on with what I came for," Fred said. "Heard anything from Harry since this morning?"
Tonks shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not."
"We'll find out in a few minutes then," Fred said, preparing to set off for the front door. "I take it Harry's aunt and uncle aren't any more keen on the idea of us being around than they used to be?"
Tonks smiled and shook her head. "Can't say as they are – no. No welcoming mat for our sort at the front door, but if you do make it up to see him, tell him I'm coming up a bit later as well - no matter what they say."
"I don't see how they could refuse such sweet and gentle intentions," Fred said sarcastically, and took a few steps in the direction of the front door before he turned. "Tonks, you know what? Why not come up with me now? Much too nice out today for there to be much danger for Harry about, and I'm certain Mad-Eye could hold off impending doom for ten minutes or so while you come for a visit. Hell, he'd probably enjoy it."
Tonks shrugged and stood. "All right, then. I suppose a short visit couldn't do any harm. Still protecting Harry – just from a shorter distance."
The two of them crossed the yard and climbed the steps together. Fred looked all around the edge of the door and finally spotted the round silvery little button to push to make that strange chiming noise inside. A minute later he could hear footsteps from inside the house coming in their direction, just before the door swung open.
A woman Fred recognized as Harry's Aunt Petunia quickly pushed the pleasant, welcoming look from her face once she saw them and replaced it with an ugly, suspicious scowl.
"Yes?" she asked shortly.
"Good afternoon," Fred started. "This is the lovely Miss Tonks, with whom I'm sure you're already familiar—"
Fred had never seen such an odd combination of a forced smile and a sneer in his entire life as Petunia Dursley gave Tonks at that moment.
He cleared his throat and went on. "--Perhaps you remember me—"
Suddenly a small car careened from the street, bumped over the edge of the curb, and squealed to a halt in the driveway. The three of them were startled enough that conversation was effectively suspended until the car was stopped. Harry's Uncle Vernon had to squirm and push to emerge from the car, but seemed in no hurry to do so, in great contrast to his recent arrival...
...Until he saw someone strange at his front door.
"You! You there!" Mr. Dursley shouted, charging towards them and turning purplish right away, probably just from the fact that there were some of 'those' people on his front stoop. "You with the ginger hair! Aren't you that Ron fellow? What is it that you want?"
Fred didn't miss a beat. "Ron? Oh, no no. Heavens no! Ron's my little brother. Quite the git, though, isn't he? I'm his charming older brother, Fr –" Fred quickly realized his mistake and coughed loudly to cover it, "-- George. I mean you probably remember us both, perhaps. Fred and George – Weasley—we're twins, remember?" Fred was tempted to remind the purple-faced man of their first momentous meeting, but he wasn't sure which lovely memory to bring up: the Dudley Ton-Tongue Toffee Event or the time that a profusion of Weasleys had burst through the wall from the fireplace to destroy the Dursleys' living room. Thinking, he opted for neither. "But Fred's off on business now, you see. Pleased to visit with you again, I'm sure," Fred lied. "Miss Tonks and I are here to see Harry."
"He's ill," Mr. Dursley stated firmly. "I don't believe he's receiving guests - and I know we're not!"
Fred was considering what to do next when his attention was drawn by something at the window of the neighbor's house across the street. From the movement of the window blinds it was obvious someone had been standing there watching the proceedings, and probably still was. Turning to face the neighbor's window straight on, Fred flashed one of his most dazzling smiles and began to wave with great, broad strokes of his arm, sure to attract the attention of any other neighbors or passersby in an instant.
Mr. Dursley turned to see who Fred was waving at, and immediately began huffing and blustering nervously. "Oh, that dreadful, nosy Mrs. Pilkey! And she'll tell half the world..."
Fred was pleased this was working so well. "Actually, we were aware that Harry was ill – that's why we came. See, the worst that can happen to us wizarding folk is that we're feeling badly for a few days like Harry is. But we were trying to help all of you, knowing you certainly wouldn't want to treat him yourself--" Fred gave Vernon a grave look of concern, "—what with the possible consequences to, well, non-magical folk like yourself and your lovely family..."
"I'll thank you not to use that foul language in my home! There is no such thing as magic or wizards!" Vernon huffed. Taking in Fred's expression, he was obviously fighting himself not to worriedly ask the next question. But he apparently couldn't resist. "What is it you think he's got, anyway?"
"Pardon me, ladies, this is not for gentle ears such as yours," Fred said, taking a few steps aside with Vernon, showing what he hoped was a very convincing look of concern, and speaking in a hushed voice. "It's been going around a bit, and – well, we're afraid he might have the dreaded...Yellow-Feathered Hurlitis..."
Vernon's eyes flew open wide and he gasped, blurting out, "Yellow-Feathered Hurlitis-!"
"Shhh! Shh!" Fred said, holding a finger to his lips and looking around. "Keep it down. The proper quarantine authorities have been notified and you wouldn't want anyone to hear you. We don't want to start a panic in the neighborhood, now do we?"
Trying to make a decision in favor of doing something he most likely didn't want to do, Mr. Dursley spent several minutes grunting and squeaking irritably, much like a guinea pig having a bad day. Glancing irritably at the moving blinds on the neighbor's window once more, the flustered man reached to push open his front door to allow Fred and Tonks to pass. "Just – get inside. Quickly, quickly now – and no funny business from you two."
"Oh, certainly not, sir," Fred schmoozed, allowing Tonks to step in ahead of him.
"What can we do?' Mr. Dursley asked with a great sense of urgency.
"Do?" Fred asked as if the older man was a little mad. "Well, surely you and your family have already been, er...what's that Mug—er, word... immunized? Haven't they?'
Mr. Dursley now seemed not only irritated and concerned, but embarrassed. "Er…no. Quite frankly, this is the first I've heard of this."
Fred gasped in mock alarm himself. "Then you must contact someone immediately if you intend to go into that room any time soon. Non-magical folk who contract this – they upchuck like that nightly, every night for years on end. Not really life-threatening, you know, but dreadfully tedious after a while, I'd wager. We will be taking Harry to our house for you soon, so with any luck, perhaps you'll avoid the whole nasty matter if you can manage to stay away." Starting to move to the other side of the room where Tonks stood staring at him suspiciously and Petunia stood tapping her foot, Fred said more cheerfully, "We'll be off to see Harry now, sir. …" Then, before starting up the stairs behind Tonks, he turned around and whispered to Vernon Dursley, "Good luck with that, sir. I wouldn't wish that on anybody."
Tonks and Fred climbed the stairs and softly knocked on Harry's door, only to be greeted by a grotesque and sickening sound on the other side. After glancing at one another, Fred reached out and gently opened the door.
The room reeked of sick and Fred watched as Tonks held her breath just to get herself to the window to open it.
"Harry?" Fred said gently. "It's me, George – and Tonks. We've just come to see how you're feeling."
No part of Harry was visible aside from a shock of messy black hair sticking out from the very top of a large mound of blankets.
"Tell me if you get cold, Harry love," Tonks said, finally seeming able to move closer to the bed. "But the odor itself in here could keep one sick for months, so I've left the window open a crack. Some fresh air ought to do you good."
"Hmmph," Harry grunted, still hidden.
"Anything we can bring you, mate? Some toast? Some water?" Fred asked. Suddenly the top half of the blankets lurched its way over the side of the bed. Fred and Tonks were treated to the gruesome sounds of retching for the next few minutes.
"That – that sounds really horrible," Tonks said. "What was it you told Mr. Dursley he had?"
"Yello – hurl – " Fred said, thinking then shaking his head. "Can't remember off the top of my head now. Damn! One of those horrifying medical names, you know?" Fred was quite aware that Tonks might well know there was no such wizard flu as Yellow-Feathered Hurlitis. "Well, and who knows, really? I've just heard that was going around."
The mound of blankets moved back to its original position on the bed, apparently emptied by now. 'Harry's' hand was now visible sticking out over the edge of the bedcovers and clutching them around his head.
"We don't want you to get all weak and dehydrated, Harry," Tonks said. "Could you perhaps take some weak tea?" Tonks reached out to touch Harry's hand in an apparent gesture of comforting, but just as she came close, mention of the tea brought about a new round of retching and he flung his head over the side again. "Oh, poor thing..." she said.
Yet Fred noticed she withdrew her hand nonetheless.
Again they waited for the worst to be over and for 'Harry' to throw himself back onto the bed. "Harry, Mad-Eye and I are outside for the duration of the night until noon tomorrow. You send – oh, Hedwig's out, is she? – well, we'll post an owl on the window ledge for you to send down to us if you need us, all right?"
"Mhrmmh," Harry said.
"It's okay, I'll stay with him a while longer," Fred said. "My mum told me I had this as a kid – for three weeks, a good nasty bout—so I ought to be fairly immune. But it is very contagious if you haven't had it, so I don't mind taking over. I'll see if I can get him to take something later."
"Oh, thank you, George," Tonks said, starting to reach for Harry again and then pulling back. "You get better, Harry. We want you back to your usual smiling self." With that, Tonks stepped quietly out into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
After Fred was certain the footsteps were gone down the stairs, he threw himself on the bed and punched the blanket mound. "That was one brilliant performance, 'Harry'. Not that mine was half bad, either."
George threw back the blankets, pulling a stuffed toy gorilla with long, black, spikey hair from behind his head. "Bloody hell, was it hot in there! And the stench!" Then he grinned. "Was I good or what?"
Fred smiled at his twin. "Those vomit-flavored Bertie Bott's'll do it every time. What did you do? Chew up the lot of them and leave them under the bed?"
"Yeah, o' course," George said. "And choked down a Skiving Snackbox or two myself to make it convincing. But you should have seen what Harry had rigged up here all by his lonesome before we got here. That is one hellaciously devious bloke!"
"Excellent," Fred said thoughtfully. "That's the kind of good influence I like to see around our ickle Ronnie."