Harry, Ron and Professor McGonagall were on their way to Dumbledore's office, when they reached the gargoyle standing guard in front the stair case that lead into Dumbledore's office, Professor McGonagall said, "Fizzing Whizbee," and the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside. They stepped onto the stair case that moved like a spiral escalator. When they stepped up to the door McGonagall rapped on the door three times. A voice called them to enter and they did as told.
"Oh, it's you Professor McGonagall…and…ah," Dumbledore said leaning forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him. Despite the hour and his attire he seemed to wide awake, his penetrating light-blue eyes fixed intently upon Professor McGonagall.
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a… well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall, "he says…"
"It wasn't a nightmare," Harry said quickly.
Professor McGonagall looked around at Harry Frowning slightly, "Very well, Potter you tell the headmaster about it.
"I…well, I was asleep…" Harry said and even in his terror and his desperation to make Dumbledore understand he felt slightly irritated that the headmaster was not looking at him but examining his own interlocking fingers. "But it wasn't an ordinary dream…it was real…I saw it happen…"he took a deep breath, "Ron's dad…Mr. Weasley…has been attacked by a giant snake."
There was a pause in which Dumbledore leaned back and stared meditatively at the ceiling. Ron looked from Harry to Dumbledore, white-faced and shocked.
"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly still not looking at Harry.
"Well…I don't know," said Harry, rather angrily unable to see why this mattered, "inside my head, I suppose."
"You misunderstood me," Dumbledore said in his came calm tone, "I mean… can you remember where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"
This was such a curious question that Harry gaped at Dumbledore; it was almost as though he knew, "I was the snake," he said, "I saw it all from the snake's point of view."
Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new sharper voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"
"Yes," Harry said emphatically. He couldn't understand why they didn't realize how much someone bled when fangs that long pierced their side? And why Dumbledore was not looking at him. But Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry jumped, and addressed one of the old portraits hanging very near the ceiling.
"Everard!" he said sharply, "and you too Dilys!" A swallow-faced wizard with short black bangs and an elderly witch with long silver ringlets in the frame beside him, both of whom seemed to have been in the deepest of sleeps, opened their eyes immediately.
"You were listening?" Dumbledore asked.
The wizard nodded and the witch said, "Naturally."
"The man has red hair and glasses," said Dumbledore. "Everard you will raise the alarm, make sure he is found by the right people." They did as they were told walking out of their frames but they didn't appear in the neighboring pictures as Harry was accustom to seeing at Hogwarts.
"Everard and Dilys were two of Hogwarts most celebrated Heads," Dumbledore said walking to the sleeping bird on its perch near the door. "Their renown is such that both have portraits hanging in other important Wizarding institutions. As they are free to move between their own portraits they can tell us what may be happening elsewhere."
"But Mr. Weasley could be anywhere!" said Harry.
"Please sit down all three of you," Dumbledore said, as though Harry had not spoken. "Everard and Dilys may not be back for several minutes… Professor McGonagall, if you would draw up extra chairs."
She did as she was told pulling out her wand from the pocket of her dressing gown and waved it. Three chairs appeared out of thin air straight back and wooden, quiet unlike the comfortable chintz armchair that Dumbledore had conjured back at Harry's hearing.
Dumbledore was now stroking Fawkes's plumed golden head with one finger. The phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his beautiful head high and observed Dumbledore through his bright dark eyes.
"We will need a warning," Dumbledore said very quietly to the bird. There was a flash of fire and the bird was gone. Then Dumbledore went to his desk messing with a silver instrument that Harry had no idea what it did then he started to mutter something that he didn't understand.
"Dumbledore," a voice called out they all turned to see Everard had returned.
"What news?" Dumbledore asked at once.
"I yelled until someone came running," said the wizard who was mopping his brow with the curtain behind him. "Said I heard something moving downstairs… they weren't sure whether to believe me or not but went down to check…you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway a few minutes later they carried him up he was covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left."
"Good," Dumbledore said, "Minerva I need you to get the other Weasley children."
"Of course," she said getting up and moving swiftly out of the office but stopped before she did, "And Dumbledore what about Molly?"
"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know… that excellent clock of hers…"
A second later a silver-ringletted witch reappeared in her portrait. She sank into her armchair, "he has arrived at St. Mungo's, Dumbledore…they carried him past, under my portrait… he looked bad but according to the healers someone already tried healing him and did a pretty good job but the wounds won't stay closed."
"Do you know who tried to heal him?" Dumbledore asked.
"No it seems like someone at the Ministry had," Dilys answered. This bit of news seemed to disturb Dumbledore, there were too many unknowns surrounding this mysterious healer.
Dumbledore was not rummaging in a cupboard behind Harry and Ron. When he emerged from it carrying a blackened old kettle, which he placed carefully on his desk muttering the word, "Portus," for moment the kettle trembled, glowing with an odd blue light, then it quivered to a rest, as solidly black as ever.
Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing Slytherin colors of the green and silver. He was sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore's attempts to rouse him.
"Phineas, Phineas."
When he still didn't wake the other portraits in the office woke up watching what was going on in the office.
"Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"
Now that he could no longer pretend to be asleep he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide, "did someone call?"
"I need you visit your other portrait again, Phineas," Dumbledore said, "I've got a massage."
"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long fake yawn, "Oh no Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight."
This caused an up roar amongst the portraits ending with Phineas being threatened. Phineas did as he was told, but none too happy about it.
After he left the other Weasley children were ushered in my Professor McGonagall.
"Harry what's going on?" asked Ginny, who looked frightened. "Professor McGonagall said that you saw Dad hurt."
"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said before Harry could speak. "He has already been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there.
"How are we going? Fred asked looking shaken, "Floo powder?"
"No, floo powder is not safe at the moment, the network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey," he said indicating the kettle sitting on the desk. There was a flash of fire in the very middle of the office leaving behind a single golden feather that floated to the floor, "It is Fawkes's warning. She must know you are out of bed…Minerva go and head her off. Tell her any story."
Professor McGonagall was in a swish of tartan.
"He says he will be delighted," a bored voice said behind Dumbledore. Phineas had just reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguest."
"Come here, than…And quickly before anyone else joins us…" Harry and the others gather around Dumbledore's desk, "You have all used a portkey before?" they all nodded their heads.
"Good. On the count of three then…one…two…" it happened in a fraction of a second: In the infinitesimal pause before Dumbledore said "three" Harry looked up at him, they were very close together, and Dumbledore's clear blue gaze moved from the portkey to Harry's face.
At once Harry's scare burned white-hot as though the old wound had burst open again, and unbidden, unwanted but terrifyingly strong the urge to attack, to strike, to bit, sink is fangs into the man before him, "three."
He felt a powerful jerk behind his navel, the ground vanished from beneath his feet, and his hand was glued to the kettle. He was banging into the others as all sped forward.