Chapter Four – A Journey Through the Floo
Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from the life on Private Drive. The Dursleys like everything neat and in order; the Weasley's house burst with the strange and unexpected. And Harry hated the mess. He was constantly fighting the urge to clean because every time he did so, it would be four times as dirty moments later. The worst room (in Harry's opinion) was Ron's room as it was the dirtiest room in the house.
The only room that Harry found that he could actually stand to say in longer than five minutes was Fred and George's room. It was the only room was somewhat organized and clean. It was also the room he slept in even with the random explosions from failed experiments keeping all three of them on their toes.
Harry always laughed whenever Haiden got yelled at by the mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece to either tuck in his shirt, comb his hair, or to zip up his fly. Both brothers hated the ghoul in the attic because it constantly howled and dropped pipes whenever it felt things were getting too quiet. But the one thing that Harry found the most unusual about living in the Burrow was the fact that everyone (except Ron) treated him and Haiden as equals. To them Haiden wasn't the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and Harry wasn't 'The-Boy-Who-Lived's younger brother', they were just two little boys that needed the love of a family.
Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of their socks and tried to force both Haiden and Harry to eat fourth helping at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked to either sit next to Harry or Haiden at the dinner table so that he could bombard them with questions about life with Muggles. He asked them to explain how simple things like plugs and the postal service worked.
"Fascinating." He said as Harry talked him through using a telephone which appeared to be his favorite word around him and his brother. "Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."
A week after they had arrived at the Burrow, everyone received word from Hogwarts one Sunday morning. Harry and the Weasley Twins had just come down for breakfast (meeting Haiden and Ron on the stairs) to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. Harry always loved watching Ginny's reaction whenever she saw Haiden, they were always hilarious to him.
This morning, the moment Ginny saw Haiden, she knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl. When she emerged from underneath the table, her face was glowing red (like Draco's always did whenever he looked at Harry).
"You okay there, Ginny?" Harry asked innocently, causing the red of Ginny's face to deepen to match her hair. Ginny 'eep'ed and mumbled something as Harry took a buttered piece of toast Mrs. Weasley offered him.
"Letters from school." Mr. Weasley said as he handed them all identical envelopes of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. "Dumbledore already knows you're here, boys – don't miss a trick, that man." For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Harry's letter told him to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross station on September first. There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year.
Second-Year Students Will Require:
The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Fred (who had finished reading his own list) peered over at Harry's. "You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" He said with a slight sneer. "The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it's a witch." At this point, Fred caught his mother's eyes and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.
"That lot won't come cheap." George said worried as he gave a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive…"
"I'm happy to help." Harry said but Mrs. Weasley shook her head with a smile.
"Thank you, dear, but we couldn't allow you to do that. We'll manage, we always do. I expect we'll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand."
"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Haiden asked Ginny. She nodded, blushing to the roost of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately, no one (except Harry) saw that, because just then Ron's elder brother, Percy, walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.
"Morning, all." Percy said briskly. "Lovely day." He sat down in the only remaining chair only to leap up again almost immediately. From underneath him, Percy pulled out a molting, gray feather duster – at least Harry thought it was a feather duster until he saw that it was breathing.
"Errol!" Ron cried, taking the limp owl from Percy, and extracting a letter from under its wing. "Finally – he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys." He told Haiden as he carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand the owl on it, but Errol just flopped straight off again, so Ron laid him on the draining board instead, muttering: "Pathetic." He then ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:
"'Dear Ron (and Haiden and Harry if you are there),
"'I'm hoping everything went all right and that Haiden and Harry are both okay, and that you didn't do anything illegal to get them out, Ron, because that would get them both into trouble as well. I've been really worried, and if Haiden and Harry are all right, will you please let me know at once. Also, perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off.
"'I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course' – How can she be?" Ron gasped in horror. "We're on vacation! – 'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?
"'Let me know what's happening as soon as you can.
Love from Hermione.'"
"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too." Mrs. Weasley said as she started to clear the table. "What're you all up to today?" Haiden, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock that the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning they could practice Quidditch there, as long as they didn't fly too high.
They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been too hard to explain away if they had escaped and flown over the village. So, instead, they threw apples for one another to catch. They always took turns riding Haiden's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best broom: Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies. Harry refused to fly on the broomsticks, he hated the feeling it gave him, it was as if the sensation of flying on it felt wrong to him.
Five minutes later, the group was marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders with Harry walking, broom-less, between Fred and George. Harry would be there to watch and collect apples for them. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them; however, he had said he was busy. Harry had only seen Percy at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.
"Wish I knew what he was up to." Fred said, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before we got you; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all."
"Ordinary Wizarding Level." George explained absentmindedly at Haiden's puzzled look. "Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame." Harry had been told by Fred and George who Bill was. Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Harry had never met either of them but knew (thanks to Fred and George) that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill was in Egypt working for the wizards bank, Gringotts.
"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our stuff this year." George said as he lazily kicked off the ground and began to float in the air, laying on his broom. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything…" Harry opened his mouth only to close it again as he remembered what Mrs. Weasley said this morning. He wanted to help them pay for their stuff since he had the money; however, he didn't want Mrs. Weasley mad at him. Maybe he could find a way to help them without Mrs. Weasley ever knowing.
~Keep Me In Your Memories~
Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.
"We're running low, Arthur." She sighed. "We'll have to buy more today… Ah, well, guest first! After you, Harry, dear!" She offered him the flowerpot. Harry stared at them.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Harry said a little ashamed. He had read all about the Floo network and how it worked; however, he didn't understand how to use it. How could he call himself smart if he couldn't even figure out how to use the Floo system?
"They've never traveled by Floo powder before." Ron said before turning to smile apologetically at Haiden. "Sorry, Haiden, I forgot."
"Never?" Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"
"We went on the Underground–"
"Really?" Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. "Were there escapators? How exactly–"
"Arthur, not now." Mrs. Weasley snapped. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear goodness me, if you've never used it before–"
"Don't worry, mum, Harry's a quick learner." Fred explained proudly. "Harry, Haiden, watch us first." He took a pinch of the glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted "Diagon Alley!" and vanished.
"You must speak clearly, dears." Mrs. Weasley told them as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. "And be sure to get out at the right gate…"
"'Gate'?" Harry asked nervously, the books never mentioned anything about a gate. Harry watched as the fire roared once more and George vanished as well.
"Well, there are an awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly–"
"Molly, dear, they'll be fine, don't fuss." Mr. Weasley said, helping himself to Floo powder. Harry nearly screamed at him to shut up, wanting to demand Mrs. Weasley to continue what she was saying. None of that had been in any of the books he had read. Maybe those books had been outdated, maybe the writer didn't actually know anything about how the Floo network actually worked, Harry didn't know. But what he did know was that he was terrified, what if he messed up? What if he got stuck? What if he got lost?
"But, dear, if one of them gets lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?"
"They wouldn't mind." Haiden reassured her. "Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if one of us got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that–"
"Well… all right… you go after Arthur." Mrs. Weasley told Harry. "Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going."
"And keep your elbows tucked in." Ron advised Haiden.
"And your eyes shut." Mrs. Weasley warned. "The soot–"
"Don't fidget or you might fall out of the wrong fireplace–"
"But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George." Trying hard to make sense of everything said, Harry shakily took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward. The fire felt like a warm breeze. He opened his mouth too soon because he immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.
"D-Dia-gon Alley." He coughed out. Instantly Harry found that he hated the feeling of Floo-ing. It felt as though he were being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast – the roaring in his ears was deafening – he tried to keep his eyes open, but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick – something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning – now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face – squinting he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of rooms beyond – his bacon sandwiches were churning inside him – he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop and then–
He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the cartilage in his nose snap.
Dizzy, bruised, nose broken, and covered in soot, Harry shakily got to his feet, holding his bloody nose to try and stop the bleeding. He looked around. He was alone, but where he was, he didn't know. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard shop – but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.
A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the wall, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. The dark, narrow street that Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.
Half of Harry was very intrigued by everything in the shop, the other half was terrified. Harry stumbled towards the door, wanting to both leave and never come back and stay to examine everything in the shop. As soon as Harry got to the door it opened to show Draco and Lucious Malfoy. Relief flooded through him, and Harry threw his arms around Draco.
"Harry?" Draco asked in confusion before his arms wrapped around Harry. "What are you doing here? I thought that you were staying with the Weasleys? How did you get here?"
"I tried Floo-ing for the first time. We were going to Diagon Alley to get our school supplies." Harry explained holding Draco tighter, soaking up the comforting aura of the boy, before he pulled away to take ahold of Draco's hand. "Where am I?"
"Nowhere that you should be." Lucius said, his voice cold and hard. The man rested a hand on Harry's shoulder for a second. "Touch nothing, you two." He ordered as he began walking forward, Draco and Harry followed him.
"Why are we here, father? I thought you said you were going to buy me a present." Draco asked as he released Harry's hand to wrap his arm around Harry, pulling him as close as he could.
"I said I would buy you a racing broom." Lucius said as he rang the bell on the counter.
"What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?" Draco asked sulkily and bad-tempered. "Harry's brother got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year, and special permission from Dumbledore to play for Gryffindor. He's not even that good, it's just because he's famous… famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead." Draco pouted and Harry playfully poked him in the side gaining a playful glare from the boy. It was then that Harry noticed that Draco had grown taller. "Everyone thinks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and broomstick–"
"You have told me this at least a dozen times, already." Lucius said through his teeth (sounding as if he were fighting the urge to roll his eyes) before giving Draco a quelling look. "And I would remind you that it is not prudent to appear less than fond of Haiden, not when most of our kind regards him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear – ah, Mr. Borgin." A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.
"Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again." Mr. Borgin said in a voice as oily as his hair. "Delighted – and young Master Malfoy, too – charmed. And who is this young master with you?"
"A family friend." Lucius said in a commanding voice that told the man to speak no more about Harry.
"How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced–" Mr. Borgin started with an oily smile on his face.
"I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling." Lucius said.
"Selling?" Mr. Borgin asked, his smile slipping quickly from his face.
"You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids." Lucius said taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveled it for Mr. Borgin to read. "I've a few – ah," he glanced down at Draco and Harry, "– items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call…" Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down at the list.
"The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?" Mr. Borgin said, and Harry watched as Lucius's grip tighten around his walking stick and his lip curled.
"I have not been visited yet. The name 'Malfoy' still commands a certain respect. Yet, the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act – no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it." Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from speaking up to defend Mr. Weasley, knowing that it would make Lucius look bad, and he didn't want that. "And a certain Potions Master has started an – uh–" he glanced down at Harry once more, "Act that will be causing more attention to both him and I." Harry was curious, what could Severus be doing that would cause both him and Lucius to gain the attention of the Minister. "So, as you can see, certain of these poisons might make it appear–"
"I understand, sir, of course." Mr. Borgin said. "Let me see…"
"Can I have that?" Draco suddenly asked, pointing to the withered hand on its cushion.
"Ah, the hand of Glory!" Mr. Borgin said, abandoning Lucius's list and scurried around the counter to Draco and Harry. "Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend for thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir."
"I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin." Lucius said coldly.
"No offense, sir, no offense meant–" Mr. Borgin said quickly.
"Though, if his grades don't pick up," Lucius gave Draco a reprimanding look, "that may indeed be all he is fit for–"
"It's not my fault!" Draco pouted. "The teachers all have favorites, like Harry here, and that Hermione Granger–"
"It's all the same all over." Mr. Borgin cut in. "Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere–"
"Not with me." Lucius snapped.
"No, sir, not with me, sir." Mr. Borgin said with a deep bow.
"In that case, perhaps we can return to my list." Lucius said shortly. "I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today."