OK, chapters are few and far between, gomen nasai. And I'm worried....this
is basically a Fifth Year fic, but it's most definitely not going to be
finished before the real Fifth Year starts in just one month with the
publication of the Order of the Phoenix. I'm not the only one out there
writing or reading Fifth Year fics, but they're definitely going to suffer
a severe drop in popularity on June 21st. I'm going to keep writing, and I
just hope you will keep reading.
So, enter mayhem and madness, this chapter, with a dash of Marauders.
Me. Write. Fun. No. Money. No. Own.
~~
With a shriek, Mrs. Figg raced over to where Harry had crumpled, to where he was writhing on the floor and whimpering in pain. Throwing herself on the carpet besides the curled-up form, she sat through a moment of hesitance and quick thinking, but soon scooped Harry into her arms hastily and heaved the small boy up the stairs as hurriedly as she could while carrying a body racked with spasms.
At the landing, Arabella paused for a moment to catch her breath and gather her wits. Something was wrong - this wasn't a normal vision, she knew that. Harry's normal visions only came when Harry was asleep, according to Dumbledore's suspicions. If Harry could feel Voldemort's presence while he was awake, it had to mean that Voldemort was close by, possibly closing in for a kill.
These thoughts led her to forcefully kick open the door of her guestroom, much more in the fashion of some martial artist than an elderly witch, and it was on the plain brown bed that she carefully deposited her burden.
Without looking at Harry out of fear that she would lose her nerve in panic, the witch strode resolutely to the window, removing her wand from her apron pocket to perform a Locking Charm and a Disillusionment one as well, so that any person, Muggle or Death Eater alike, would see nothing more than an empty bed and room should they look through the window. Turning back to her charge, she bit her lip in confusion.
Should she leave him in pain? Should she stun him for now, and save him torture equal to that of the Cruciatus?
One thing was for sure, though, and that was that she needed help right now if Lord Voldemort was nearby. She most certainly wasn't going to receive any from Harry. Deciding fast, she jogged to the open door and out into the landing. There was nothing she could do to help her Harry right now, other than protecting him from Voldemort. Thus she shut the door quietly, once more carefully performing the locking charm.
Whipping around, she threw herself down the stairs into the living room once more, and grabbed one of the numerous jars off the mantelpiece. Taking a pinch of green powder from within, she threw it into the already burning flames with a quick, "Remus! Black! Get over here now, we've got problems, Harry is-"
But she never needed to finish the sentence, for immediately, a blurred figure began revolving in the green flames, and soon Sirius tumbled ungainly out of the fireplace.
Standing up dizzily, the Animagus cried sharply, "Where is he, Figg? What's going on?!"
"He's upstairs in the spare bedroom, having a fit with his scar - where's Lupin?" Arabella responded frantically.
"Coming now," Sirius said, pointing at the fireplace, where a new figure was spinning rapidly like a tornado. "Did you lock the door?" he said shrewdly.
"Yes, and only I can take off the spell, so wait a moment before you blow up my house in an attempt to get to him!" she said as Lupin stepped out of the fireplace, stumbling in his haste.
"Mrs. Figg, what's happened?" he said in an urgent voice, and his face was drawn and pale.
"Something's wrong, Harry started convulsing, pain in his scar while he was awake. Dumbledore said it should only do that when Voldemort is near, and if he is-"
"First let's see to Harry," Sirius growled, "And then we can go after that son of a-"
He was cut off by an echoing BOOM which shook the windows and floor of the house, threatening to toss all three to the ground, and, from up above, one long heart-rending scream of pain could be heard.
"Harry!" Sirius shouted, and without a second thought, he sprinted upstairs, Arabella and Remus hot on his heels.
At the landing, Arabella pushed her way to the front of the group, and, raising her wand at the guestroom door, panted out, "A-Alohomora!!"
Not knowing what to expect as the door swung open, his guardians were torn between shock and relief to find only Harry in there, now twisting on the floor where he'd dropped from the bed. Sirius launched himself with a strangled yell at his godson, cradling the trembling body to his own.
Remus, though, was more concerned with the light streaming in through Harry's window - flickering green and orange in the distance. Hastily, he said, "Sirius, stay with Harry. I think...I think the Death Eaters attacked Privet Drive, expecting him to be there. Come on, Arabella, let's go and see if we can....if there's anything we can do."
Returning to the doorway, he whispered to the witch, "Lock them in with the most powerful charm you know. Sirius can be very dangerous when the people he loves are threatened, and he's bound to do something rash should someone try to attack Harry in there."
**
As the door closed and the lock clicked, Sirius carefully picked up the twitching Harry, laying him gently back on the bed. Sirius himself sat precariously on the edge, staring transfixed at his godson, pale eyes drawn to the heaving chest and white face, canine ears picking up each throbbing moan and whimper of pain.
That bastard Voldemort....His mere presence tortured Harry, connected as they were. And of all the days for this to happen - it had to be Harry's fifteenth birthday, today. He'd been through so much more, suffered so much more than a fifteen-year-old should. And Voldemort....Voldemort was out for revenge on nothing more than a wounded child wanting affection. That the most dangerous Dark Wizard anyone could recall having existed found his greatest pleasure in hunting children was revolting.
Unbidden, images leapt to the front of his mind, a house destroyed, a best friend lying lifeless under the rubble, a screaming baby clutched in his dead mother's arms....
Shuddering involuntarily, Sirius shifted Harry's head so that it was resting in Sirius' lap, and in a fatherly manner, he brushed aside the hair damp with sweat from where it was clinging to Harry's forehead and the one hand still persistently pawing his lightning scar. The other hand Sirius held, and his tears mingled with the beading sweat on Harry's face as the grip tightened and relaxed between Harry's convulsions.
**
Racing through the dark streets were more people than just Remus Lupin and Arabella Figg. Indeed, even though both clutched wands openly, the residents of the streets neighboring Privet Drive bore no concern for the two hurrying figures, even the one wearing the shabby cloak.
No, all Muggle attention was fixed on the blaze at Number Four Privet Drive, and at those...fireworks in the sky. The pretty glittering stars that resembled a haunting skull and serpent were unrecognizable to the untrained Muggle eye.
Lupin and Arabella came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive, for they could go no further. Muggle police and the fire department, having responded quickly, had already roped off the area, allowing none near the raging flames. The witch and wizard could only stare helplessly at the scene, just part of the crowd of neighbors and news reporters gathered, all snapping pictures or gazing openmouthed at the violent fiery destruction of Number Four.
But that didn't mean that they were the only wizards present, and it became clear when that other wizard - a tall, balding, red-haired wizard - vaulted the barrier and hurled himself toward the firemen as fast as his long legs could carry him.
"Arthur!" Arabella screeched upon recognizing him, but to no avail. As words weren't working, she and Lupin followed Arthur Weasley's example, breaking free from the crowd and barricade, and running after him towards the burning building. Looking up as they came closer, it was in time to see a burst of white-hot sparks shoot out one of the second story windows with a fizz - something magical had just been consumed by the flames.
Just outside the garden wall they stopped, where Mr. Weasley was being restrained by four policemen, though he was fighting with every ounce of strength he could muster to beat them off, screaming, "My son's best friend is in there! He's in there, let me get Harry!! I can get him out, please!! It's Harry Potter, damn you, now let go!!"
Extra police were now surrounding Arabella and Remus, hoping to apprehend them as well and drag them off the scene. One man in uniform seized Mrs. Figg's arm roughly, but she wasn't giving up without a fight, and most certainly not without Mr. Weasley.
"Arthur!!" Mrs. Figg called imploringly. "Arthur, over here, now, hurry!!"
Mr. Weasley turned his panic-stricken face, and, catching sight of his fellow wizards, made another plea. "Help me get Harry out of there, Arabella!! He has to be alive in there, help me get him!!"
But the policemen had finally overpowered him, and were now dragging the dazed, yet struggling Mr. Weasley back to the barrier. Arabella and Remus followed meekly with a much smaller entourage.
Pushed unceremoniously back into the crowd, Mrs. Figg and Lupin immediately grabbed the back of Arthur's cloak as he turned to make another wild escape back to Number Four, and together they proceeded to push him through the throng and out.
However, they were hampered on the way. Muggle news reporters, no doubt having witnessed Arthur Weasley's fight, were eager for an interview.
"Excuse me, sir, you say your son's best friend is in there? A boy named Harry? Harry Potter? Are there any survivors? Please comment! Sir!"
Arthur, slumped with exhaustion, shock, and despair, did not answer, but rather only allowed himself to be propelled through the mass of people and out back. Indeed, they had nearly made it to Mrs. Figg's house, chased for a few minutes by reporters, until he spoke at all.
"Oh my God....what am I going to tell my children? What am I going to tell them? And Molly? You-Know-Who....why didn't anyone know this was going to happen? God, Harry..."
Feeling the strain nearly as much as Mr. Weasley, Arabella replied soothingly nonetheless. "You'll tell them that he's quite all right, dear. Harry's fine, Arthur, he wasn't in the attack, that's why we came to get you."
Spinning around sharply, tugging himself free of their grasp, Arthur, eyes nearly popping with anxiety and stress, cried disbelievingly, "He's fine? Where is he? You....You-Know-Who didn't find him?!"
Patting his arm gently on the arm, Arabella whispered, "Yes, yes, he's alive, and that's what counts. I'll explain once we get inside, gesturing suggestively towards her house. "He's upstairs with Sirius Black."
If she thought that would calm Mr. Weasley down, she was proven wrong as Arthur's eyes bulged even further, his voice squeaking, "You left him with Sirius Black? I....I know from Molly that Dumbledore trusts him, but you left Harry with a convicted murderer from You-Know-Who's circle?"
At a loss for words, and further allowing himself through shock to be dragged into Mrs. Figg's living room, Mr. Weasley was shoved in an armchair, where Remus was seriously considering binding him to prevent him from injuring himself or anyone else. At the moment, the red-headed wizard was stuttering uncontrollably, clearly distressed.
Noticing this, as it was rather obvious, Mrs. Figg pointed out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in the living room hutch to Remus, indicating that he should both serve himself and do what he could for Arthur. Getting the message across, she quietly hurried away upstairs as Lupin moved in the general direction of the Firewhiskey.
Pausing at the door just off the landing, Arabella pressed an ear to the wood.
Silence. Utter silence.
Feeling the flutters of panic returning, she once more whispered, "Alohomora!" The door swung open, and Mrs. Figg, walking in slowly and silently, drew in a deep breath at the sight.
Godfather and godson alike were fast asleep, hands clutched together, with Harry's head resting in Sirius' lap and Sirius himself slumped against the wall. Both chests were rising and falling peacefully, and although Harry's free hand was still resting near his forehead, it was no longer scratching his face in order to quell pain in his scar.
The scar itself was an interesting point. Dried blood was clotted around it, and although it most certainly must have faded since the attack, the color of the weal remained a dark throbbing red.
Inquisitive, Arabella moved forward and, standing over the resting Harry and Sirius, bent down to get a closer look at the infamous scar. In doing so, as she peered curiously at the mark, a silver chain necklace dangling from her throat dropped lightly onto Harry's pale face.
The boy woke with another violent yell of fright that could have caused the dead to rise.
Within milliseconds, Arabella felt a tight hand groping for a good hold around her neck, but the hand was quickly withdrawn through recognition, and Harry's labored breathing slowed noticeably.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Figg?!" Sirius spat out. "Don't scare us like that!" He was drawing breath quickly and raggedly.
Mrs. Figg slid to her knees, massaging the bit of neck that Sirius had managed to latch onto. She looked up and smiled weakly at the jumpy pair.
Meanwhile, Harry had sat up with amazing speed that was enough to startle Sirius again, but being oblivious to his godfather's disconcertion, the Boy- Who-Lived-Yet-Again stared around wildly. "What...What's happened? Where's Draco? Why's Sirius here?"
A sudden noise at the door came before Sirius' reply. The three already in the room looked up to see Remus and a panicky Mr. Weasley standing on the threshold, no doubt alerted by Harry's shout.
Before Harry could say a word of greeting, Mr. Weasley had flung himself across the room, gathering the dazed Harry into a tight embrace.
"Harry my lad, you had us all so worried!! Thank Merlin you're safe, thank Merlin, boy! What a fright!"
A growl issued menacingly from Sirius' throat. "Watch how you handle him, Arthur Weasley, he's delicate!"
Harry's muffled indignant voice came over Mr. Weasley's shoulder. "How many times do I have to say that I am NOT delicate!!"
"Of course you're not," came the instant reply from Sirius, Arabella, and Lupin simultaneously.
All at once, the stress of the night's events seemed to lift dramatically - Harry was safe, and quite his normal, sane self. Lupin laughed softly at Harry's indignation, remembering how touchy Harry was about his strengths and weaknesses, and even Sirius managed to crack a crooked grin.
Mr. Weasley reluctantly released Harry from his grip, and the boy slid back onto the bed. "What exactly happened, Sirius? Mrs. Figg?.....All I remember is that I was supposed to go upstairs, and my scar started hurting....I remember-" his voice choked here "-I think I remember seeing Voldemort's face, but I was in so much pain that I just....I don't know what's going on. Where's Dr-"
Harry, realizing Mr. Weasley was hanging on his every word, backtracked and said, "Where are the Dursleys?"
The four adults exchanged commiserating glances, though Arthur Weasley knew only half of what was going on behind the serious expressions that the others, like he, wore. Mrs. Figg was the first to speak, and she did so gently.
"Harry, the Dursleys are fine as far as we know. The Death Eaters and, apparently, Voldemort attacked Privet Drive, expecting you to be there. You- your house was destroyed, all your things gone. Looks like we'll need to do another Diagon Alley adventure."
She tried to smile again, but she was feeling quite miserable; explaining the truth was a lot harder than she thought it would be.
"Hedwig!! She...." Harry heaved two deep breaths, one stricken, one of relief, and said, "That's right....I sent her off with a letter this morning....but.....but how did Voldemort get to Privet Drive? The Fidelius....."
"What this means, Harry," Arthur said slowly, "Is that someone - or a number of someones - at the Ministry are working for You-Know-Who, or are a little too short-sighted-" he grimaced "-to realize that they associate with and daily pass information to the Death Eaters."
There was a small pause before Mr. Weasley continued, "I had to work late tonight, and so I heard about the attack right away. I actually managed to get out before the Aurors and the Hit Wizards from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement did. I....when I saw the house, and the Dark Mark...."
He trailed off, clearly reliving the pain and terror he'd felt earlier. "I thought you were dead for sure. And all I could think about was what I was going to have to tell Ron...."
Harry looked away, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Ron....he hadn't thought of Ron. His first worry had been Draco.
What had happened to the rival Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Said Gryffindor found his thoughts cut off though, as the adults began speaking again, and he was drawn back into the present. Silently, he sat and listened.
"All that remains to be done is to contact Dumbledore and see where we're going to put Harry for the rest of the summer," Mrs. Figg said calmly.
Mr. Weasley immediately voiced his opinion with a slightly uncomfortable look at Sirius and Remus. "I'm sure we could take him at the Burrow - there'll be enough wizards around so that he'll be quite protected, wouldn't you think?"
"It's impossible, Arthur," Lupin said carefully, choosing his words. "If Harry wasn't at Privet Drive, I'm sure the next place the Death Eaters will think to hit is the Burrow. After all, it's not much of a secret that Harry is your son's best friend. In fact, we may have to put your own house under the Fidelius now," he ended unhappily.
"No, the Burrow is far too obvious a target," Arabella agreed.
"I feel quite the same," came a new voice, and all five wizards jumped with a simultaneous yelp - Sirius had even tumbled off the bed, but he was on his feet quicker than a panther.
Albus Dumbledore stood silhouetted in the doorway, wearing a grave, if not even bitter, expression. Harry had rarely ever seen such a look on Dumbledore's features. Upon seeing the fright scrawled across the other faces, a brief smile flickered at the corners of Dumbledore's mouth, but it vanished all too quickly.
"Albus!!" Mrs. Figg breathed faintly, her hand at her heart, "Of all the times to sneak up on people! Do you realize-"
"Please accept my apologies, Bella. I arrived too hastily to announce my presence properly, do forgive me. However, I do believe we ought to carry on with your previous conversation more than we need discuss my abrupt intrusion."
He heaved a short sigh, and continued, straightening his wrinkled midnight blue robe absentmindedly.
"Now that Voldemort has made an express attempt to find Harry - a very violent, destructive attempt - we must find a suitable home with an experienced sorcerer who can handle his reputation and the ensuing attempts on his life."
Dumbledore ended rather blandly, and looked around pointedly at each of the adults.
"Well then, if you just put the Fidelius on the Burrow, Dumbledore, we can take him," Mr. Weasley began at once excitedly, but he was cut off.
"There are more lives at stake than just Harry's, Weasley," Sirius bit impatiently. Arthur shot him a quizzical look, but Sirius covered the awkwardness of the moment by saying, "Don't you have the Granger girl living with you as well? No, it's too open, too risky. Personally, I think Remus and I could take him."
He looked pleadingly at his old friend.
"And put Harry Potter in the hands of a convicted murderer likely to hand him back over to Voldemort?" Mr. Weasley snorted, beadily eyeing Black.
Sirius sneered, looking around at the other adults while gesticulating angrily and saying, "And he says there are OTHER wizards at the Ministry with short-sightedness!"
"I think," Remus said shortly, trying to prevent a fist-fight, "That although I have no objections to taking him, Harry would be safest right under Voldemort's nose. Now, I know neither Harry nor Sirius would like this suggestion, but Severus Snape could-"
"That's plausible, Remus," Dumbledore said mildly. The old wizard moved further into the room, closing the door behind him. "But we still have our other little.....escapee.....to worry about. It is too much to hope that Severus can keep both of them when the Death Eater meetings are occasionally held in Snape's own manor."
Mr. Weasley looked quite puzzled, but remained rather quiet and subdued. Harry, on the other hand, waiting as his fate was being decided for him, was beginning to purple.
"I'd much rather keep them together," Dumbledore began heavily. "Voldemort will expect me to split them up, hide them in separate places, so he will now search harder. He has discovered that neither boy was at Privet Drive, so it is as Lupin said: Voldemort will attack the Burrow. We most certainly can't put either of them there. Severus could take them, it's true-"
Harry couldn't contain himself any longer. He burst out suddenly, "Okay, so I can't live with Sirius and Professor Lupin. How many people at the Ministry knew Mrs. Figg was my Secret Keeper?"
Arthur looked rather taken aback, and said with a glance at Arabella, "She is? Er-was?"
"That settles it then," Harry said firmly, eyes glinting dangerously, "I'm staying right here. Put the Fidelius over this house if you will. Voldemort's already hit this area once, what are the chances that he'll come back? And HE can stay too, can't he, Mrs. Figg?"
With a worried glance at the determined Harry, she said to her fellow wizards, "I could take them, I really could, and Harry has a point. He and I could continue our little lessons peacefully as well of course....But we're forgetting one tiny little problem. What are you going to tell the Dursleys?"
Arabella looked curiously at Dumbledore.
Harry laughed hollowly. "Their house, all of their belongings, everything they owned was just destroyed because some Dark Lord was out looking for me. It was bad enough when I blew up Aunt Marge, or like last year with the Ton-Tongue Toffee. How excited do you think they'll be to take me back this time?"
Dumbledore smiled sadly, "Harry has the right idea.....The Dursley family will be arriving shortly, and though we can convince them otherwise, they are apt to blame their misfortune on Harry."
"And think," the boy said bitterly, "For once, their bad luck actually was my fault."
He turned away from the others, feigning interest in the wall.
Sirius reached out a hand and gently grasped him by the shoulder. "You're not to blame, Harry, not at all. If only we'd gotten here in time to get the bastard," he spat angrily, his grip tightening.
"Watch your language in front of Harry, Padfoot!" Remus said reprovingly, though a smirk lingered around his mouth.
Dumbledore, however, remained worried. "Are you sure you could take the two of them, Arabella? They'll have to be kept indoors at all times, you must understand." He leant forward and whispered quietly, as if trying to keep a certain red-headed wizard out of the conversation. "Two boys of their abilities, personalities, and notorious reputation for being ....disagreeable with each other.....it was well enough keeping them in a house with Muggles to separate them - are you sure you can handle both of them?"
Mrs. Figg nodded soberly, resolutely. "The boys....have more in common than you may have grown to believe, Albus. I'm sure this will work out fine."
A smile lit Dumbledore's blue eyes, and it was mirrored in Harry's emerald ones. "Very well. I'll owl Severus in order to have him bring our other little charge here as soon as possible."
He clapped his hands in finality. "Now, come, Arthur, we need to discuss the subject of the Burrow and the Fidelius, so if you'll excuse us...."
Mr. Weasley nodded in acceptance, though he looked slightly confused and was frowning slightly, obviously not pleased with Harry's new home. However, he strode over to Dumbledore, but stopped and walked back to Harry, holding out his hand.
"Well then, Harry, I'm sure we'll be able to have you visit the Burrow before school begins! Ron and the twins will be looking forward to it. Oh, I'm so glad you're all right, boy, so any messages for Ron?"
Harry shook Arthur's hand, smiling, and said, "I'll be looking forward to it. Tell Ron and Mione that I'll owl them as soon as Hedwig gets back. Say 'hi' to everyone for me, just tell them that I'm fine. I'll be seeing them all soon enough."
With a last firm grip, Mr. Weasley released Harry, waved, and crossed to the door being held open by Dumbledore.
"If you need me, Harry," Dumbledore said, "Just owl me - your Hedwig will find me. Oh, and Harry....Happy Birthday."
Harry gaped. He....What? He-he hadn't even remembered!! The Dursley's always forgot, but Harry himself had done so as well this year.
Trying to calculate the last four weeks in his mind, looking up at Sirius, Harry said, astounded, "I'm fifteen? Today? That...that's right! I totally forgot-"
Sirius smiled down at him, then reached out a hand and tweaked Harry's nose gently. "Happy Birthday, kid."
Mr. Weasley smiled warmly. "Molly's got a cake waiting - she'd hoped you'd be able to come to the Burrow tomorrow before the Dursley's get home....I'm sure I'll be able to persuade Percy to let me borrow Hermes, so that you'll get it. Happy Birthday, Harry Potter."
And with that, Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, two of the wizards Harry most trusted, turned through the door, and Harry could hear their footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Mrs. Figg sighed quietly, and then said quietly, "It's quite late, all of you. Harry's been through a rough night - he needs rest. Now I'm sure," she glared at Sirius and Remus, "That although you want to celebrate all that we have to be thankful for, the three of you will see that it's much better to save our celebration until an appropriate time."
She stared pointedly at Sirius, who rolled his eyes, but sat back on the bed and grabbed his godson into a huge hug.
"Well, since Figg suggested it, Harry, look forward to a nice party before you return to Hogwarts," the Animagus said cheerfully. Mrs. Figg huffed.
Remus bent down and ruffled Harry's messy black hair affectionately, with a small, "Happy Birthday, Harry."
He paused, and turned sadly to face Sirius. "Has it really been fifteen years? I....I remember it like it was yesterday."
There was an odd expression on Moony's face, something derived from painful nostalgia.
Curious, Harry said, "What happened? What's wrong?"
At this, Sirius suddenly burst out laughing. "Like we could forget that day.....should we really tell him-" he placed a hand on Harry's messy head "-what happened the day he was born?"
He was practically cackling. Lupin started to laugh himself, and even Mrs. Figg held a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles.
"Oh, I've heard this story before," she chuckled.
"Has everyone in the wizarding world heard it?" Harry asked with trepidation, a sense of doom weighing on his heart.
"Oh, no, thank Merlin," gasped out Sirius. "I can't believe we never told you...."
He collapsed into fits of hysterical snickers, waving a hand at Remus, as if inviting him to begin.
Taking his cue, Lupin tried vainly to stop his chortling, and so he half- choked out, "Well, the first thing you must know, Harry, is that you were pretty much over two weeks early - closer to three weeks, which is not uncommon for Pureblood wizard children, but then again, Lily was Muggle- born. It might explain why you're still so small - you were very, very slightly premature. That's right, you were supposed to be an August baby....."
His voice took on a familiar dreamy quality that sounded odd in Remus' light neutral tenor voice, and he continued to lose himself in recollection.
"So, on July 31st, 1980, we Marauders - all.....all four of us - and Lily were enjoying a hot, cloudless summer day in Godric's Hollow....you can just picture a nice little riverside picnic scene, flowing water, a blanket spread across soft grass, trees swaying in the gentle breeze...."
Sirius snorted, inhaled incorrectly, and began to cough. Through his gasps, they caught the words, "That's.....bull....shit....Moony!!"
"Ok, ok, forgive for trying to not make us sound like the complete idiots we were!!" Lupin laughed, before continuing.
"All right. So, let's rewind that picnic scene. Now, erase the sun, the gentle breeze - instead, add in pouring rain and angry sky, a wet blanket with Lily and Peter huddled under umbrellas, and gale-force gusts, and that, Harry, would be what your birthday was like.
"Now, don't look at me like that," Lupin said imploringly, noticing that Harry was looking at him oddly, matching Draco's common 'clairvoyant crystal ball' look, "It was James' idea, I swear!! He was undaunted in his determination to celebrate his last few weeks before he became a father, or, as he would always put it, before the arrival of the Mini-Marauder."
Harry giggled himself now. "The Mini-Marauder? Is that really what he called me?"
Sirius laughed harder. "You mean you really can't remember it? After all the times James had said that to Lily's bulging stomach, I'd expected you to be born screaming it!"
"YOU'RE the one who came up with it, Sirius! Don't blame it all on Prongs!" Lupin protested.
"Sure, I might have come up with it," said Sirius, "but he's the one who adopted and immortalized it! And hey, yelling at me for blaming Prongs? Weren't you the one who just said that our being out in the middle of a storm was James' fault?"
Lupin pretended he hadn't heard Padfoot. Instead he reverted to the original topic.
"So, thanks to James brilliance and his love for having a good time, we found ourselves having a picnic in the worst conditions. Lily had to use the oddest spells to keep herself and our precious Marauders' Munchies dry - like how she transfigured the umbrella poles into tree trunks growing out of the middle of the blanket so that neither the umbrellas nor the blanket was blown away....."
Sirius cleared his throat importantly, signaling that he was composed enough to tell some of the story. Lupin smiled graciously, and nodded, letting Sirius take over.
"So, Lily was guarding the food from moth, mouse, moose, and Marauder alike, while the rest of us.....played in the water."
"Would that be the rain or the river?" Harry queried with a smirk on his face.
"Both," Lupin and Sirius said together, with a smile at each other.
"We were just having fun, you know, chicken fights and the like, but it was hard when your feathers were all wet....." Sirius said, shrugging as if it were the most boring thing in the world.
Harry stared at Sirius, perplexed. "Feathers?"
Lupin clapped a hand to his forehead, and Mrs. Figg laughed in the background. "That's right, he's never even been in a Muggle chicken fight, let alone a Marauders' Chicken Fight!!"
Sirius smirked and explained. "In OUR chicken fights, the Marauder on top fighting got transfigured from the waist up into a chicken, and I mean the works - feathers, wings, beaks....it was the like the Indiscriminate Grappling Chicken Fight, anything goes."
Lupin spoke again. "Normally, when we played in-er-warm, sunny weather, we'd perform a Drying Spell on whichever chicken fell off, and start all over again. But playing in the rain was a little more difficult," he admitted.
"So anyways," said Sirius, "After a while, Peter-" he had trouble getting the name out "-retired from the game, which wasn't good because he was the only one strong enough to hold James well without overbalancing, and besides, without him, we were short one player, so we had to stop doing Chicken Fights."
"No, actually, Peter's idea of heading over to Lily for food diverted James' attention onto Lily herself, who, although appreciative of our....antics....was not comfortable."
Lupin paused for a moment, thinking, as if he were trying to imagine what Lily Potter must have felt like.
"I mean, being pretty much nine months pregnant, stuck out in the middle of a storm while her husband and friends cavorted like five-year- olds.....I...I guess that can try your patience."
"So James decided to show off," Sirius picked up, "And to cheer Lily up in the process, being a mushy, lovesick puppy-dog excuse for a husband." He sounded almost revolted at the idea.
"So he-er-started making little special-effects iridescent rainbows arch across the river. He wanted to set off a full fireworks display, but it was, as I said, raining very hard and he didn't have any Filibuster's on him."
"And the rainbows were more appropriate anyway," piped up Sirius.
"And Sirius decided that while we were on the subject of rainbows, he should do something about James' hair." He glared at Sirius.
Innocently, Sirius said, "What? All I did was curse it to change color every five seconds! I really don't know why he got so pissed!"
"Well, let's just say, Padfoot, that he didn't look good with pink hair, especially when it clashed with his red embarrassed face whenever he saw Lily laughing at him."
"So James started chasing me all over the field and river, trying to hex me. ME! His best friend!!" Sirius said tearfully.
"Don't look to me for sympathy," Lupin barked.
Sirius raised a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered conspiratorially to Harry, "He only says that because one of your father's curses hit Remy when I dodged behind him, and old Moony ended up with fairy wings sticking out of his back for the rest of the day."
"Now," Lupin said over Sirius, "Peter and Lily were sitting watching us-"
"Oh, it was great, Moony was chasing James for the wings, and James was chasing me for the hair...."
"-when suddenly, Lily's water broke. She remained quite calm, telling Peter to get James while she started magicking all the food away."
"Well, Peter started tagging after Remus - big mistake. Remus was throwing curses after James, so a distracted James fired a Rictusempra back. Remy ducked, and it hit Peter."
"When Lily looked up from her finished packing, clutching her belly, and saw that her messenger was lying wheezing on the ground, she just-"
"Exploded. Never saw her lose her temper like that," Sirius shuddered.
"As soon as Sirius, James, and I came within range, she fired a Petrificus Totalus on Sirius. He dropped like a stone, and Prongs and I tripped over him."
"So, we were all sprawled on the ground - okay, so I wasn't sprawled, but I couldn't move anyway....."
"And when James and I looked up her, oh, I'd never seen her look so angry!!"
"What did she say?" Harry asked hesitantly, speaking for the first time in minutes.
"Well, she was calm at first, though very quiet - she was always dangerously quiet when she was very angry - even though she was starting to feel some pain, and she said quite normally-"
Sirius mimicked a woman's imperious voice. "'James, my water broke - the baby's ready, so I think it's time we ended this playtime and it's time for you to get me to a hospital.'"
"What happened next?" Harry asked eagerly.
Sirius and Lupin exchanged a look, and were overcome with laughter so hard that Harry thought someone must have just cast a very strong Cheering Charm.
Regaining composure, though his head was buried in his hands to wipe away the tears of mirth, Lupin said, "Well, James just looked up at her and said confusedly, 'Are you sure it's not just the rain?'"
Harry couldn't help it. He joined in the roar of laughter that greeted this.
"So," Lupin continued, "She pointed her wand at James' face and told him that this was all his fault and to get her to a hospital or he'd be hexed so badly that he'd never be able to sit on a broom again."
"This Prongs took seriously, so he got off me, but before he'd gone two steps towards Lily, she dropped her wand and sat down hard on the ground, clutching her stomach."
"So James panicked, and before we could stop him, he'd run to where we'd parked the car that Peter, Lily, James, and I had come in, and grabbed Sirius' flying motorbike. Once he'd gotten it back over to us, he heaved Lily onto it, and they were gone."
"So, now, we were in a small fix. James had stolen my bike, but he also had the keys to the car on him, too, so once Lupin had performed the counter- curses for both me and Peter, we-"
"Had to walk all the way back to the village as fast as we could in the rain, take a taxi to London to get to St. Mungo's....."
"When we got to the hospital Merlin knows how much later, we found James pacing outside the Maternity Ward, his hair still changing color with nearly every step," chuckled Sirius. "He was still soaked, leaving little puddles all over the floor...."
"Between his multicolored hair and my fairy wings, which we'd all forgotten about, the old witch matron behind the desk thought we looked a little odd, and she actually asked us if we all were interested in visiting the ACU soon."
"ACU?" Harry said, puzzled. "Isn't it 'ICU'?"
"Yes, if you're a Muggle," Lupin said. He explained, "This is the Accidental Charms Unit. You know, for accidents that occur during experimentation or duels, or for things like splinching. ACU."
Harry nodded in understanding, but smiled nonetheless. "And?"
"Well, that's about it, actually." Sirius smiled. "Except for when you were finally born just before 11:30pm, and James held you for the first time, he started bouncing you a little, and you wouldn't stop crying!! We're going to have to find your first picture with him - it was taken that night, and even in the picture, your father's hair keeps changing color, his face bright red because you were wailing without end...."
Lupin was looking confused for some reason. "Woah, woah, what do you mean 'that's about it', Sirius? Aren't you forgetting-"
Clearing his throat pointedly, but looking nervous, Sirius said, "Oh, he doesn't need to know about that....He probably doesn't remember at all...."
Mrs. Figg looked sternly over at Sirius and said, "What Sirius isn't telling you is that at the party after your birth a few hours later into the night, he sort of....spiked your bottle."
"It was only some butterbeer!!" Sirius said indignantly.
"Butterbeer?" Lupin repeated faintly, staring at Sirius incredulously.
"Ok, ok, it was Firewhiskey, I admit it. But James had just decided that I was Harry's godfather, so I was letting the kid join in the celebrations!!"
"You don't give a newborn - especially a newborn wizard - alcohol, Black, it could have killed him!!" Arabella yelled.
"What happened then?" Harry asked again.
"Well, you stopped crying finally.....Lily was worried a little because you weren't sleeping, just this newborn little wizard, and red and wrinkly....and then when, you opened your mouth again, all these big green bubbles kept coming out. And I got caught..." Sirius ended sadly.
"And that would be how we spent July 31st fifteen years ago..." Lupin said to Harry.
There was a comfortable pause filled with some sniggering, before Mrs. Figg sighed and, looking at the clock on the beside table, said, "Dear me, look, it's after midnight!! Harry should be asleep now, he really should!!"
Sirius heaved himself off the bed where he'd been sitting, and, stretching, he walked jauntily over to Remus. He yawned loudly, and turned to face Harry.
Meanwhile, Arabella shooed Harry off the bed and towards Sirius while she pulled off the brown bedspread, turning down the blankets and fluffing up Harry's pillow.
Turning to his father's best friends, Harry smiled up at them, and before he knew it, both Sirius and Remus had swooped down and gathered him into a group hug.
There was hope....it hadn't been too bad of a night, too bad of a birthday.
And Draco would be coming back tomorrow.
**
Sitting in the back of a Muggle car listening to Aunt Petunia sob, Dudley wail, and Uncle Vernon mutter darkly, sometimes pulling too sharply on the steering wheel and causing the car to lurch alarmingly, Draco was sincerely hoping that they would arrive back in Little Whinging soon.
Oh, he was in a foul mood. Between the insane Muggles and the news of the blaze at Number Four, all his things gone....no, this had most certainly not been a pleasant weekend.
Staring out the window with a frown on his face, but not really taking in the scenery, Draco could only go over the entire weekend in his head. And until last night, the weekend hadn't been very interesting at all....
He'd arrived at Marjorie Dursley's home in the company of the Dursleys, and he consciously admitted to having been thankful to arrive - all those hours in a car with Dudley trying to get Draco to play Gameboy Advance with him, and Mr. and Mrs. Dursley sitting in the front of the car humming loudly to classical music that would have actually been tasteful had it not been punctuated by the Muggles' off-tune singing.
The minute Draco had walked over the threshold into the Muggle-sized manor, before he'd even gotten a glimpse of the surroundings or even seen Marge, wherever she'd been lurking, he'd found himself tugged forcefully into a crushing hug, a wet kiss splattered over his cheek, and one huge, "Ah, here he is, my new neffy poo!"
Harry had been telling the truth - she was a large, ill-mannered, lowly Muggle.
And she had dogs. Lots of dogs. And Draco did not happen to be a fan of dogs.
Now, while the entire Dursley family knew nothing of Draco's heritage, the dogs were quite sensitive to Draco's smell and aura. So once Marge had released him and moved on to maul Dudley with one of her hugs, the Slytherin had taken two steps further into the manor only to be set upon by a pack of growling bulldogs. With nasty cruel pointy teeth.
And the rest of the visit hadn't been much different. The dogs tailed Draco everywhere - the lounge, the bedroom he'd been forced to share with Dudley, the dining room, even to the bathroom, at which point they'd squat in front of the door and growl menacingly so that it took Draco fifteen minutes to get past them and out of the loo.
Harry wasn't mentioned once.
And then....late at night, as Dudley was staring fixedly at the TV and Draco was sitting with his mouth half-open, eyes half-closed, being lulled to sleep by the ominous growling coming from somewhere around his feet where the bulldogs were gathered, waiting to be set free from this nightmare, the phone call came.
He hadn't been able to sleep a wink that night - Dudley was howling with misery at the destruction of his perfect entertainment center, all the games and controls and computer chips gone....And Aunt Petunia's unrestrained sobs from the room next door were no better.
Coming back to the present, Draco began to ponder. It had to have been Voldemort, it just had to have been. But as far as Draco knew, Harry's name had not cropped up in the phone call, so....was he safe? Was he dead? Captured?
And of course, the looming worry of where he was to go now was growing larger and more fearsome every moment. Would Severus take him? Or would they simply leave him with the Dursleys, living with Aunt Marge (who had agreed to take them in until Number Four was rebuilt) for the rest of the vacation?
So lost in thought, Draco didn't even notice when the car pulled onto Privet Drive and stopped just before the tape barricade that stood between the Dursleys and their ruined home. It looked even worse than it had sounded - one blackened wall remained; the other three were no more than charred cinders and splinters of wood littering the ground.
Slowly, the Dursleys got out of the car, taken in the wreckage, and Draco followed suit. His Nimbus was gone, his books, his cauldron, his chess set, his cloaks and robes, his trunk, the little money that he'd had on him.....He thanked Merlin silently for thinking to bring his wand with him to Aunt Marge's home, having sneaked it into the bag after Harry had finished packing Draco's clothes.
Suddenly, the neighbors came running out of Number Three, gathering around the sobbing Dursleys with pitying comments and reassuring words of comfort. But then.....
Number Five's door opened as well, and out swept a middle-aged woman, followed by-
Draco's heart leapt at the sight of Severus hurrying out behind the lady, his large black Muggle jacket billowing slightly around his thin frame.
~~
Okay, tomorrow is the last day of exams, and then I'm free. I'll never ever ever ever have to take another exam in Japan! No more studying Hermione- style.... And lots of time to write chapter thirteen!!
There's a direct Monty Python/ Holy Grail quote. Miss that movie - it's one of the first things I'm sticking in the VCR when I get home.
Reviews are appreciated, flames are Ok as long as they aren't flames about slashiness. I've said it a million times, if you flame me for writing slash, I will simply ask you, "Why did you read it if you don't like it? The. Summary. Says. Slash!" If you want to make a stand about the incorrectness of slash, take it up with someone who doesn't know that it really happens in reality. I'll make an exception if you didn't know what slash was....
Next time....ooo, Draco learning to live in a Mudblood's house. Without servants.
So, enter mayhem and madness, this chapter, with a dash of Marauders.
Me. Write. Fun. No. Money. No. Own.
~~
With a shriek, Mrs. Figg raced over to where Harry had crumpled, to where he was writhing on the floor and whimpering in pain. Throwing herself on the carpet besides the curled-up form, she sat through a moment of hesitance and quick thinking, but soon scooped Harry into her arms hastily and heaved the small boy up the stairs as hurriedly as she could while carrying a body racked with spasms.
At the landing, Arabella paused for a moment to catch her breath and gather her wits. Something was wrong - this wasn't a normal vision, she knew that. Harry's normal visions only came when Harry was asleep, according to Dumbledore's suspicions. If Harry could feel Voldemort's presence while he was awake, it had to mean that Voldemort was close by, possibly closing in for a kill.
These thoughts led her to forcefully kick open the door of her guestroom, much more in the fashion of some martial artist than an elderly witch, and it was on the plain brown bed that she carefully deposited her burden.
Without looking at Harry out of fear that she would lose her nerve in panic, the witch strode resolutely to the window, removing her wand from her apron pocket to perform a Locking Charm and a Disillusionment one as well, so that any person, Muggle or Death Eater alike, would see nothing more than an empty bed and room should they look through the window. Turning back to her charge, she bit her lip in confusion.
Should she leave him in pain? Should she stun him for now, and save him torture equal to that of the Cruciatus?
One thing was for sure, though, and that was that she needed help right now if Lord Voldemort was nearby. She most certainly wasn't going to receive any from Harry. Deciding fast, she jogged to the open door and out into the landing. There was nothing she could do to help her Harry right now, other than protecting him from Voldemort. Thus she shut the door quietly, once more carefully performing the locking charm.
Whipping around, she threw herself down the stairs into the living room once more, and grabbed one of the numerous jars off the mantelpiece. Taking a pinch of green powder from within, she threw it into the already burning flames with a quick, "Remus! Black! Get over here now, we've got problems, Harry is-"
But she never needed to finish the sentence, for immediately, a blurred figure began revolving in the green flames, and soon Sirius tumbled ungainly out of the fireplace.
Standing up dizzily, the Animagus cried sharply, "Where is he, Figg? What's going on?!"
"He's upstairs in the spare bedroom, having a fit with his scar - where's Lupin?" Arabella responded frantically.
"Coming now," Sirius said, pointing at the fireplace, where a new figure was spinning rapidly like a tornado. "Did you lock the door?" he said shrewdly.
"Yes, and only I can take off the spell, so wait a moment before you blow up my house in an attempt to get to him!" she said as Lupin stepped out of the fireplace, stumbling in his haste.
"Mrs. Figg, what's happened?" he said in an urgent voice, and his face was drawn and pale.
"Something's wrong, Harry started convulsing, pain in his scar while he was awake. Dumbledore said it should only do that when Voldemort is near, and if he is-"
"First let's see to Harry," Sirius growled, "And then we can go after that son of a-"
He was cut off by an echoing BOOM which shook the windows and floor of the house, threatening to toss all three to the ground, and, from up above, one long heart-rending scream of pain could be heard.
"Harry!" Sirius shouted, and without a second thought, he sprinted upstairs, Arabella and Remus hot on his heels.
At the landing, Arabella pushed her way to the front of the group, and, raising her wand at the guestroom door, panted out, "A-Alohomora!!"
Not knowing what to expect as the door swung open, his guardians were torn between shock and relief to find only Harry in there, now twisting on the floor where he'd dropped from the bed. Sirius launched himself with a strangled yell at his godson, cradling the trembling body to his own.
Remus, though, was more concerned with the light streaming in through Harry's window - flickering green and orange in the distance. Hastily, he said, "Sirius, stay with Harry. I think...I think the Death Eaters attacked Privet Drive, expecting him to be there. Come on, Arabella, let's go and see if we can....if there's anything we can do."
Returning to the doorway, he whispered to the witch, "Lock them in with the most powerful charm you know. Sirius can be very dangerous when the people he loves are threatened, and he's bound to do something rash should someone try to attack Harry in there."
**
As the door closed and the lock clicked, Sirius carefully picked up the twitching Harry, laying him gently back on the bed. Sirius himself sat precariously on the edge, staring transfixed at his godson, pale eyes drawn to the heaving chest and white face, canine ears picking up each throbbing moan and whimper of pain.
That bastard Voldemort....His mere presence tortured Harry, connected as they were. And of all the days for this to happen - it had to be Harry's fifteenth birthday, today. He'd been through so much more, suffered so much more than a fifteen-year-old should. And Voldemort....Voldemort was out for revenge on nothing more than a wounded child wanting affection. That the most dangerous Dark Wizard anyone could recall having existed found his greatest pleasure in hunting children was revolting.
Unbidden, images leapt to the front of his mind, a house destroyed, a best friend lying lifeless under the rubble, a screaming baby clutched in his dead mother's arms....
Shuddering involuntarily, Sirius shifted Harry's head so that it was resting in Sirius' lap, and in a fatherly manner, he brushed aside the hair damp with sweat from where it was clinging to Harry's forehead and the one hand still persistently pawing his lightning scar. The other hand Sirius held, and his tears mingled with the beading sweat on Harry's face as the grip tightened and relaxed between Harry's convulsions.
**
Racing through the dark streets were more people than just Remus Lupin and Arabella Figg. Indeed, even though both clutched wands openly, the residents of the streets neighboring Privet Drive bore no concern for the two hurrying figures, even the one wearing the shabby cloak.
No, all Muggle attention was fixed on the blaze at Number Four Privet Drive, and at those...fireworks in the sky. The pretty glittering stars that resembled a haunting skull and serpent were unrecognizable to the untrained Muggle eye.
Lupin and Arabella came to an abrupt halt at the end of Privet Drive, for they could go no further. Muggle police and the fire department, having responded quickly, had already roped off the area, allowing none near the raging flames. The witch and wizard could only stare helplessly at the scene, just part of the crowd of neighbors and news reporters gathered, all snapping pictures or gazing openmouthed at the violent fiery destruction of Number Four.
But that didn't mean that they were the only wizards present, and it became clear when that other wizard - a tall, balding, red-haired wizard - vaulted the barrier and hurled himself toward the firemen as fast as his long legs could carry him.
"Arthur!" Arabella screeched upon recognizing him, but to no avail. As words weren't working, she and Lupin followed Arthur Weasley's example, breaking free from the crowd and barricade, and running after him towards the burning building. Looking up as they came closer, it was in time to see a burst of white-hot sparks shoot out one of the second story windows with a fizz - something magical had just been consumed by the flames.
Just outside the garden wall they stopped, where Mr. Weasley was being restrained by four policemen, though he was fighting with every ounce of strength he could muster to beat them off, screaming, "My son's best friend is in there! He's in there, let me get Harry!! I can get him out, please!! It's Harry Potter, damn you, now let go!!"
Extra police were now surrounding Arabella and Remus, hoping to apprehend them as well and drag them off the scene. One man in uniform seized Mrs. Figg's arm roughly, but she wasn't giving up without a fight, and most certainly not without Mr. Weasley.
"Arthur!!" Mrs. Figg called imploringly. "Arthur, over here, now, hurry!!"
Mr. Weasley turned his panic-stricken face, and, catching sight of his fellow wizards, made another plea. "Help me get Harry out of there, Arabella!! He has to be alive in there, help me get him!!"
But the policemen had finally overpowered him, and were now dragging the dazed, yet struggling Mr. Weasley back to the barrier. Arabella and Remus followed meekly with a much smaller entourage.
Pushed unceremoniously back into the crowd, Mrs. Figg and Lupin immediately grabbed the back of Arthur's cloak as he turned to make another wild escape back to Number Four, and together they proceeded to push him through the throng and out.
However, they were hampered on the way. Muggle news reporters, no doubt having witnessed Arthur Weasley's fight, were eager for an interview.
"Excuse me, sir, you say your son's best friend is in there? A boy named Harry? Harry Potter? Are there any survivors? Please comment! Sir!"
Arthur, slumped with exhaustion, shock, and despair, did not answer, but rather only allowed himself to be propelled through the mass of people and out back. Indeed, they had nearly made it to Mrs. Figg's house, chased for a few minutes by reporters, until he spoke at all.
"Oh my God....what am I going to tell my children? What am I going to tell them? And Molly? You-Know-Who....why didn't anyone know this was going to happen? God, Harry..."
Feeling the strain nearly as much as Mr. Weasley, Arabella replied soothingly nonetheless. "You'll tell them that he's quite all right, dear. Harry's fine, Arthur, he wasn't in the attack, that's why we came to get you."
Spinning around sharply, tugging himself free of their grasp, Arthur, eyes nearly popping with anxiety and stress, cried disbelievingly, "He's fine? Where is he? You....You-Know-Who didn't find him?!"
Patting his arm gently on the arm, Arabella whispered, "Yes, yes, he's alive, and that's what counts. I'll explain once we get inside, gesturing suggestively towards her house. "He's upstairs with Sirius Black."
If she thought that would calm Mr. Weasley down, she was proven wrong as Arthur's eyes bulged even further, his voice squeaking, "You left him with Sirius Black? I....I know from Molly that Dumbledore trusts him, but you left Harry with a convicted murderer from You-Know-Who's circle?"
At a loss for words, and further allowing himself through shock to be dragged into Mrs. Figg's living room, Mr. Weasley was shoved in an armchair, where Remus was seriously considering binding him to prevent him from injuring himself or anyone else. At the moment, the red-headed wizard was stuttering uncontrollably, clearly distressed.
Noticing this, as it was rather obvious, Mrs. Figg pointed out a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey in the living room hutch to Remus, indicating that he should both serve himself and do what he could for Arthur. Getting the message across, she quietly hurried away upstairs as Lupin moved in the general direction of the Firewhiskey.
Pausing at the door just off the landing, Arabella pressed an ear to the wood.
Silence. Utter silence.
Feeling the flutters of panic returning, she once more whispered, "Alohomora!" The door swung open, and Mrs. Figg, walking in slowly and silently, drew in a deep breath at the sight.
Godfather and godson alike were fast asleep, hands clutched together, with Harry's head resting in Sirius' lap and Sirius himself slumped against the wall. Both chests were rising and falling peacefully, and although Harry's free hand was still resting near his forehead, it was no longer scratching his face in order to quell pain in his scar.
The scar itself was an interesting point. Dried blood was clotted around it, and although it most certainly must have faded since the attack, the color of the weal remained a dark throbbing red.
Inquisitive, Arabella moved forward and, standing over the resting Harry and Sirius, bent down to get a closer look at the infamous scar. In doing so, as she peered curiously at the mark, a silver chain necklace dangling from her throat dropped lightly onto Harry's pale face.
The boy woke with another violent yell of fright that could have caused the dead to rise.
Within milliseconds, Arabella felt a tight hand groping for a good hold around her neck, but the hand was quickly withdrawn through recognition, and Harry's labored breathing slowed noticeably.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Figg?!" Sirius spat out. "Don't scare us like that!" He was drawing breath quickly and raggedly.
Mrs. Figg slid to her knees, massaging the bit of neck that Sirius had managed to latch onto. She looked up and smiled weakly at the jumpy pair.
Meanwhile, Harry had sat up with amazing speed that was enough to startle Sirius again, but being oblivious to his godfather's disconcertion, the Boy- Who-Lived-Yet-Again stared around wildly. "What...What's happened? Where's Draco? Why's Sirius here?"
A sudden noise at the door came before Sirius' reply. The three already in the room looked up to see Remus and a panicky Mr. Weasley standing on the threshold, no doubt alerted by Harry's shout.
Before Harry could say a word of greeting, Mr. Weasley had flung himself across the room, gathering the dazed Harry into a tight embrace.
"Harry my lad, you had us all so worried!! Thank Merlin you're safe, thank Merlin, boy! What a fright!"
A growl issued menacingly from Sirius' throat. "Watch how you handle him, Arthur Weasley, he's delicate!"
Harry's muffled indignant voice came over Mr. Weasley's shoulder. "How many times do I have to say that I am NOT delicate!!"
"Of course you're not," came the instant reply from Sirius, Arabella, and Lupin simultaneously.
All at once, the stress of the night's events seemed to lift dramatically - Harry was safe, and quite his normal, sane self. Lupin laughed softly at Harry's indignation, remembering how touchy Harry was about his strengths and weaknesses, and even Sirius managed to crack a crooked grin.
Mr. Weasley reluctantly released Harry from his grip, and the boy slid back onto the bed. "What exactly happened, Sirius? Mrs. Figg?.....All I remember is that I was supposed to go upstairs, and my scar started hurting....I remember-" his voice choked here "-I think I remember seeing Voldemort's face, but I was in so much pain that I just....I don't know what's going on. Where's Dr-"
Harry, realizing Mr. Weasley was hanging on his every word, backtracked and said, "Where are the Dursleys?"
The four adults exchanged commiserating glances, though Arthur Weasley knew only half of what was going on behind the serious expressions that the others, like he, wore. Mrs. Figg was the first to speak, and she did so gently.
"Harry, the Dursleys are fine as far as we know. The Death Eaters and, apparently, Voldemort attacked Privet Drive, expecting you to be there. You- your house was destroyed, all your things gone. Looks like we'll need to do another Diagon Alley adventure."
She tried to smile again, but she was feeling quite miserable; explaining the truth was a lot harder than she thought it would be.
"Hedwig!! She...." Harry heaved two deep breaths, one stricken, one of relief, and said, "That's right....I sent her off with a letter this morning....but.....but how did Voldemort get to Privet Drive? The Fidelius....."
"What this means, Harry," Arthur said slowly, "Is that someone - or a number of someones - at the Ministry are working for You-Know-Who, or are a little too short-sighted-" he grimaced "-to realize that they associate with and daily pass information to the Death Eaters."
There was a small pause before Mr. Weasley continued, "I had to work late tonight, and so I heard about the attack right away. I actually managed to get out before the Aurors and the Hit Wizards from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement did. I....when I saw the house, and the Dark Mark...."
He trailed off, clearly reliving the pain and terror he'd felt earlier. "I thought you were dead for sure. And all I could think about was what I was going to have to tell Ron...."
Harry looked away, a familiar prickling in his eyes. Ron....he hadn't thought of Ron. His first worry had been Draco.
What had happened to the rival Slytherin and Gryffindor?
Said Gryffindor found his thoughts cut off though, as the adults began speaking again, and he was drawn back into the present. Silently, he sat and listened.
"All that remains to be done is to contact Dumbledore and see where we're going to put Harry for the rest of the summer," Mrs. Figg said calmly.
Mr. Weasley immediately voiced his opinion with a slightly uncomfortable look at Sirius and Remus. "I'm sure we could take him at the Burrow - there'll be enough wizards around so that he'll be quite protected, wouldn't you think?"
"It's impossible, Arthur," Lupin said carefully, choosing his words. "If Harry wasn't at Privet Drive, I'm sure the next place the Death Eaters will think to hit is the Burrow. After all, it's not much of a secret that Harry is your son's best friend. In fact, we may have to put your own house under the Fidelius now," he ended unhappily.
"No, the Burrow is far too obvious a target," Arabella agreed.
"I feel quite the same," came a new voice, and all five wizards jumped with a simultaneous yelp - Sirius had even tumbled off the bed, but he was on his feet quicker than a panther.
Albus Dumbledore stood silhouetted in the doorway, wearing a grave, if not even bitter, expression. Harry had rarely ever seen such a look on Dumbledore's features. Upon seeing the fright scrawled across the other faces, a brief smile flickered at the corners of Dumbledore's mouth, but it vanished all too quickly.
"Albus!!" Mrs. Figg breathed faintly, her hand at her heart, "Of all the times to sneak up on people! Do you realize-"
"Please accept my apologies, Bella. I arrived too hastily to announce my presence properly, do forgive me. However, I do believe we ought to carry on with your previous conversation more than we need discuss my abrupt intrusion."
He heaved a short sigh, and continued, straightening his wrinkled midnight blue robe absentmindedly.
"Now that Voldemort has made an express attempt to find Harry - a very violent, destructive attempt - we must find a suitable home with an experienced sorcerer who can handle his reputation and the ensuing attempts on his life."
Dumbledore ended rather blandly, and looked around pointedly at each of the adults.
"Well then, if you just put the Fidelius on the Burrow, Dumbledore, we can take him," Mr. Weasley began at once excitedly, but he was cut off.
"There are more lives at stake than just Harry's, Weasley," Sirius bit impatiently. Arthur shot him a quizzical look, but Sirius covered the awkwardness of the moment by saying, "Don't you have the Granger girl living with you as well? No, it's too open, too risky. Personally, I think Remus and I could take him."
He looked pleadingly at his old friend.
"And put Harry Potter in the hands of a convicted murderer likely to hand him back over to Voldemort?" Mr. Weasley snorted, beadily eyeing Black.
Sirius sneered, looking around at the other adults while gesticulating angrily and saying, "And he says there are OTHER wizards at the Ministry with short-sightedness!"
"I think," Remus said shortly, trying to prevent a fist-fight, "That although I have no objections to taking him, Harry would be safest right under Voldemort's nose. Now, I know neither Harry nor Sirius would like this suggestion, but Severus Snape could-"
"That's plausible, Remus," Dumbledore said mildly. The old wizard moved further into the room, closing the door behind him. "But we still have our other little.....escapee.....to worry about. It is too much to hope that Severus can keep both of them when the Death Eater meetings are occasionally held in Snape's own manor."
Mr. Weasley looked quite puzzled, but remained rather quiet and subdued. Harry, on the other hand, waiting as his fate was being decided for him, was beginning to purple.
"I'd much rather keep them together," Dumbledore began heavily. "Voldemort will expect me to split them up, hide them in separate places, so he will now search harder. He has discovered that neither boy was at Privet Drive, so it is as Lupin said: Voldemort will attack the Burrow. We most certainly can't put either of them there. Severus could take them, it's true-"
Harry couldn't contain himself any longer. He burst out suddenly, "Okay, so I can't live with Sirius and Professor Lupin. How many people at the Ministry knew Mrs. Figg was my Secret Keeper?"
Arthur looked rather taken aback, and said with a glance at Arabella, "She is? Er-was?"
"That settles it then," Harry said firmly, eyes glinting dangerously, "I'm staying right here. Put the Fidelius over this house if you will. Voldemort's already hit this area once, what are the chances that he'll come back? And HE can stay too, can't he, Mrs. Figg?"
With a worried glance at the determined Harry, she said to her fellow wizards, "I could take them, I really could, and Harry has a point. He and I could continue our little lessons peacefully as well of course....But we're forgetting one tiny little problem. What are you going to tell the Dursleys?"
Arabella looked curiously at Dumbledore.
Harry laughed hollowly. "Their house, all of their belongings, everything they owned was just destroyed because some Dark Lord was out looking for me. It was bad enough when I blew up Aunt Marge, or like last year with the Ton-Tongue Toffee. How excited do you think they'll be to take me back this time?"
Dumbledore smiled sadly, "Harry has the right idea.....The Dursley family will be arriving shortly, and though we can convince them otherwise, they are apt to blame their misfortune on Harry."
"And think," the boy said bitterly, "For once, their bad luck actually was my fault."
He turned away from the others, feigning interest in the wall.
Sirius reached out a hand and gently grasped him by the shoulder. "You're not to blame, Harry, not at all. If only we'd gotten here in time to get the bastard," he spat angrily, his grip tightening.
"Watch your language in front of Harry, Padfoot!" Remus said reprovingly, though a smirk lingered around his mouth.
Dumbledore, however, remained worried. "Are you sure you could take the two of them, Arabella? They'll have to be kept indoors at all times, you must understand." He leant forward and whispered quietly, as if trying to keep a certain red-headed wizard out of the conversation. "Two boys of their abilities, personalities, and notorious reputation for being ....disagreeable with each other.....it was well enough keeping them in a house with Muggles to separate them - are you sure you can handle both of them?"
Mrs. Figg nodded soberly, resolutely. "The boys....have more in common than you may have grown to believe, Albus. I'm sure this will work out fine."
A smile lit Dumbledore's blue eyes, and it was mirrored in Harry's emerald ones. "Very well. I'll owl Severus in order to have him bring our other little charge here as soon as possible."
He clapped his hands in finality. "Now, come, Arthur, we need to discuss the subject of the Burrow and the Fidelius, so if you'll excuse us...."
Mr. Weasley nodded in acceptance, though he looked slightly confused and was frowning slightly, obviously not pleased with Harry's new home. However, he strode over to Dumbledore, but stopped and walked back to Harry, holding out his hand.
"Well then, Harry, I'm sure we'll be able to have you visit the Burrow before school begins! Ron and the twins will be looking forward to it. Oh, I'm so glad you're all right, boy, so any messages for Ron?"
Harry shook Arthur's hand, smiling, and said, "I'll be looking forward to it. Tell Ron and Mione that I'll owl them as soon as Hedwig gets back. Say 'hi' to everyone for me, just tell them that I'm fine. I'll be seeing them all soon enough."
With a last firm grip, Mr. Weasley released Harry, waved, and crossed to the door being held open by Dumbledore.
"If you need me, Harry," Dumbledore said, "Just owl me - your Hedwig will find me. Oh, and Harry....Happy Birthday."
Harry gaped. He....What? He-he hadn't even remembered!! The Dursley's always forgot, but Harry himself had done so as well this year.
Trying to calculate the last four weeks in his mind, looking up at Sirius, Harry said, astounded, "I'm fifteen? Today? That...that's right! I totally forgot-"
Sirius smiled down at him, then reached out a hand and tweaked Harry's nose gently. "Happy Birthday, kid."
Mr. Weasley smiled warmly. "Molly's got a cake waiting - she'd hoped you'd be able to come to the Burrow tomorrow before the Dursley's get home....I'm sure I'll be able to persuade Percy to let me borrow Hermes, so that you'll get it. Happy Birthday, Harry Potter."
And with that, Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley, two of the wizards Harry most trusted, turned through the door, and Harry could hear their footsteps retreating down the stairs.
Mrs. Figg sighed quietly, and then said quietly, "It's quite late, all of you. Harry's been through a rough night - he needs rest. Now I'm sure," she glared at Sirius and Remus, "That although you want to celebrate all that we have to be thankful for, the three of you will see that it's much better to save our celebration until an appropriate time."
She stared pointedly at Sirius, who rolled his eyes, but sat back on the bed and grabbed his godson into a huge hug.
"Well, since Figg suggested it, Harry, look forward to a nice party before you return to Hogwarts," the Animagus said cheerfully. Mrs. Figg huffed.
Remus bent down and ruffled Harry's messy black hair affectionately, with a small, "Happy Birthday, Harry."
He paused, and turned sadly to face Sirius. "Has it really been fifteen years? I....I remember it like it was yesterday."
There was an odd expression on Moony's face, something derived from painful nostalgia.
Curious, Harry said, "What happened? What's wrong?"
At this, Sirius suddenly burst out laughing. "Like we could forget that day.....should we really tell him-" he placed a hand on Harry's messy head "-what happened the day he was born?"
He was practically cackling. Lupin started to laugh himself, and even Mrs. Figg held a hand to her mouth to stop the giggles.
"Oh, I've heard this story before," she chuckled.
"Has everyone in the wizarding world heard it?" Harry asked with trepidation, a sense of doom weighing on his heart.
"Oh, no, thank Merlin," gasped out Sirius. "I can't believe we never told you...."
He collapsed into fits of hysterical snickers, waving a hand at Remus, as if inviting him to begin.
Taking his cue, Lupin tried vainly to stop his chortling, and so he half- choked out, "Well, the first thing you must know, Harry, is that you were pretty much over two weeks early - closer to three weeks, which is not uncommon for Pureblood wizard children, but then again, Lily was Muggle- born. It might explain why you're still so small - you were very, very slightly premature. That's right, you were supposed to be an August baby....."
His voice took on a familiar dreamy quality that sounded odd in Remus' light neutral tenor voice, and he continued to lose himself in recollection.
"So, on July 31st, 1980, we Marauders - all.....all four of us - and Lily were enjoying a hot, cloudless summer day in Godric's Hollow....you can just picture a nice little riverside picnic scene, flowing water, a blanket spread across soft grass, trees swaying in the gentle breeze...."
Sirius snorted, inhaled incorrectly, and began to cough. Through his gasps, they caught the words, "That's.....bull....shit....Moony!!"
"Ok, ok, forgive for trying to not make us sound like the complete idiots we were!!" Lupin laughed, before continuing.
"All right. So, let's rewind that picnic scene. Now, erase the sun, the gentle breeze - instead, add in pouring rain and angry sky, a wet blanket with Lily and Peter huddled under umbrellas, and gale-force gusts, and that, Harry, would be what your birthday was like.
"Now, don't look at me like that," Lupin said imploringly, noticing that Harry was looking at him oddly, matching Draco's common 'clairvoyant crystal ball' look, "It was James' idea, I swear!! He was undaunted in his determination to celebrate his last few weeks before he became a father, or, as he would always put it, before the arrival of the Mini-Marauder."
Harry giggled himself now. "The Mini-Marauder? Is that really what he called me?"
Sirius laughed harder. "You mean you really can't remember it? After all the times James had said that to Lily's bulging stomach, I'd expected you to be born screaming it!"
"YOU'RE the one who came up with it, Sirius! Don't blame it all on Prongs!" Lupin protested.
"Sure, I might have come up with it," said Sirius, "but he's the one who adopted and immortalized it! And hey, yelling at me for blaming Prongs? Weren't you the one who just said that our being out in the middle of a storm was James' fault?"
Lupin pretended he hadn't heard Padfoot. Instead he reverted to the original topic.
"So, thanks to James brilliance and his love for having a good time, we found ourselves having a picnic in the worst conditions. Lily had to use the oddest spells to keep herself and our precious Marauders' Munchies dry - like how she transfigured the umbrella poles into tree trunks growing out of the middle of the blanket so that neither the umbrellas nor the blanket was blown away....."
Sirius cleared his throat importantly, signaling that he was composed enough to tell some of the story. Lupin smiled graciously, and nodded, letting Sirius take over.
"So, Lily was guarding the food from moth, mouse, moose, and Marauder alike, while the rest of us.....played in the water."
"Would that be the rain or the river?" Harry queried with a smirk on his face.
"Both," Lupin and Sirius said together, with a smile at each other.
"We were just having fun, you know, chicken fights and the like, but it was hard when your feathers were all wet....." Sirius said, shrugging as if it were the most boring thing in the world.
Harry stared at Sirius, perplexed. "Feathers?"
Lupin clapped a hand to his forehead, and Mrs. Figg laughed in the background. "That's right, he's never even been in a Muggle chicken fight, let alone a Marauders' Chicken Fight!!"
Sirius smirked and explained. "In OUR chicken fights, the Marauder on top fighting got transfigured from the waist up into a chicken, and I mean the works - feathers, wings, beaks....it was the like the Indiscriminate Grappling Chicken Fight, anything goes."
Lupin spoke again. "Normally, when we played in-er-warm, sunny weather, we'd perform a Drying Spell on whichever chicken fell off, and start all over again. But playing in the rain was a little more difficult," he admitted.
"So anyways," said Sirius, "After a while, Peter-" he had trouble getting the name out "-retired from the game, which wasn't good because he was the only one strong enough to hold James well without overbalancing, and besides, without him, we were short one player, so we had to stop doing Chicken Fights."
"No, actually, Peter's idea of heading over to Lily for food diverted James' attention onto Lily herself, who, although appreciative of our....antics....was not comfortable."
Lupin paused for a moment, thinking, as if he were trying to imagine what Lily Potter must have felt like.
"I mean, being pretty much nine months pregnant, stuck out in the middle of a storm while her husband and friends cavorted like five-year- olds.....I...I guess that can try your patience."
"So James decided to show off," Sirius picked up, "And to cheer Lily up in the process, being a mushy, lovesick puppy-dog excuse for a husband." He sounded almost revolted at the idea.
"So he-er-started making little special-effects iridescent rainbows arch across the river. He wanted to set off a full fireworks display, but it was, as I said, raining very hard and he didn't have any Filibuster's on him."
"And the rainbows were more appropriate anyway," piped up Sirius.
"And Sirius decided that while we were on the subject of rainbows, he should do something about James' hair." He glared at Sirius.
Innocently, Sirius said, "What? All I did was curse it to change color every five seconds! I really don't know why he got so pissed!"
"Well, let's just say, Padfoot, that he didn't look good with pink hair, especially when it clashed with his red embarrassed face whenever he saw Lily laughing at him."
"So James started chasing me all over the field and river, trying to hex me. ME! His best friend!!" Sirius said tearfully.
"Don't look to me for sympathy," Lupin barked.
Sirius raised a hand to the side of his mouth and whispered conspiratorially to Harry, "He only says that because one of your father's curses hit Remy when I dodged behind him, and old Moony ended up with fairy wings sticking out of his back for the rest of the day."
"Now," Lupin said over Sirius, "Peter and Lily were sitting watching us-"
"Oh, it was great, Moony was chasing James for the wings, and James was chasing me for the hair...."
"-when suddenly, Lily's water broke. She remained quite calm, telling Peter to get James while she started magicking all the food away."
"Well, Peter started tagging after Remus - big mistake. Remus was throwing curses after James, so a distracted James fired a Rictusempra back. Remy ducked, and it hit Peter."
"When Lily looked up from her finished packing, clutching her belly, and saw that her messenger was lying wheezing on the ground, she just-"
"Exploded. Never saw her lose her temper like that," Sirius shuddered.
"As soon as Sirius, James, and I came within range, she fired a Petrificus Totalus on Sirius. He dropped like a stone, and Prongs and I tripped over him."
"So, we were all sprawled on the ground - okay, so I wasn't sprawled, but I couldn't move anyway....."
"And when James and I looked up her, oh, I'd never seen her look so angry!!"
"What did she say?" Harry asked hesitantly, speaking for the first time in minutes.
"Well, she was calm at first, though very quiet - she was always dangerously quiet when she was very angry - even though she was starting to feel some pain, and she said quite normally-"
Sirius mimicked a woman's imperious voice. "'James, my water broke - the baby's ready, so I think it's time we ended this playtime and it's time for you to get me to a hospital.'"
"What happened next?" Harry asked eagerly.
Sirius and Lupin exchanged a look, and were overcome with laughter so hard that Harry thought someone must have just cast a very strong Cheering Charm.
Regaining composure, though his head was buried in his hands to wipe away the tears of mirth, Lupin said, "Well, James just looked up at her and said confusedly, 'Are you sure it's not just the rain?'"
Harry couldn't help it. He joined in the roar of laughter that greeted this.
"So," Lupin continued, "She pointed her wand at James' face and told him that this was all his fault and to get her to a hospital or he'd be hexed so badly that he'd never be able to sit on a broom again."
"This Prongs took seriously, so he got off me, but before he'd gone two steps towards Lily, she dropped her wand and sat down hard on the ground, clutching her stomach."
"So James panicked, and before we could stop him, he'd run to where we'd parked the car that Peter, Lily, James, and I had come in, and grabbed Sirius' flying motorbike. Once he'd gotten it back over to us, he heaved Lily onto it, and they were gone."
"So, now, we were in a small fix. James had stolen my bike, but he also had the keys to the car on him, too, so once Lupin had performed the counter- curses for both me and Peter, we-"
"Had to walk all the way back to the village as fast as we could in the rain, take a taxi to London to get to St. Mungo's....."
"When we got to the hospital Merlin knows how much later, we found James pacing outside the Maternity Ward, his hair still changing color with nearly every step," chuckled Sirius. "He was still soaked, leaving little puddles all over the floor...."
"Between his multicolored hair and my fairy wings, which we'd all forgotten about, the old witch matron behind the desk thought we looked a little odd, and she actually asked us if we all were interested in visiting the ACU soon."
"ACU?" Harry said, puzzled. "Isn't it 'ICU'?"
"Yes, if you're a Muggle," Lupin said. He explained, "This is the Accidental Charms Unit. You know, for accidents that occur during experimentation or duels, or for things like splinching. ACU."
Harry nodded in understanding, but smiled nonetheless. "And?"
"Well, that's about it, actually." Sirius smiled. "Except for when you were finally born just before 11:30pm, and James held you for the first time, he started bouncing you a little, and you wouldn't stop crying!! We're going to have to find your first picture with him - it was taken that night, and even in the picture, your father's hair keeps changing color, his face bright red because you were wailing without end...."
Lupin was looking confused for some reason. "Woah, woah, what do you mean 'that's about it', Sirius? Aren't you forgetting-"
Clearing his throat pointedly, but looking nervous, Sirius said, "Oh, he doesn't need to know about that....He probably doesn't remember at all...."
Mrs. Figg looked sternly over at Sirius and said, "What Sirius isn't telling you is that at the party after your birth a few hours later into the night, he sort of....spiked your bottle."
"It was only some butterbeer!!" Sirius said indignantly.
"Butterbeer?" Lupin repeated faintly, staring at Sirius incredulously.
"Ok, ok, it was Firewhiskey, I admit it. But James had just decided that I was Harry's godfather, so I was letting the kid join in the celebrations!!"
"You don't give a newborn - especially a newborn wizard - alcohol, Black, it could have killed him!!" Arabella yelled.
"What happened then?" Harry asked again.
"Well, you stopped crying finally.....Lily was worried a little because you weren't sleeping, just this newborn little wizard, and red and wrinkly....and then when, you opened your mouth again, all these big green bubbles kept coming out. And I got caught..." Sirius ended sadly.
"And that would be how we spent July 31st fifteen years ago..." Lupin said to Harry.
There was a comfortable pause filled with some sniggering, before Mrs. Figg sighed and, looking at the clock on the beside table, said, "Dear me, look, it's after midnight!! Harry should be asleep now, he really should!!"
Sirius heaved himself off the bed where he'd been sitting, and, stretching, he walked jauntily over to Remus. He yawned loudly, and turned to face Harry.
Meanwhile, Arabella shooed Harry off the bed and towards Sirius while she pulled off the brown bedspread, turning down the blankets and fluffing up Harry's pillow.
Turning to his father's best friends, Harry smiled up at them, and before he knew it, both Sirius and Remus had swooped down and gathered him into a group hug.
There was hope....it hadn't been too bad of a night, too bad of a birthday.
And Draco would be coming back tomorrow.
**
Sitting in the back of a Muggle car listening to Aunt Petunia sob, Dudley wail, and Uncle Vernon mutter darkly, sometimes pulling too sharply on the steering wheel and causing the car to lurch alarmingly, Draco was sincerely hoping that they would arrive back in Little Whinging soon.
Oh, he was in a foul mood. Between the insane Muggles and the news of the blaze at Number Four, all his things gone....no, this had most certainly not been a pleasant weekend.
Staring out the window with a frown on his face, but not really taking in the scenery, Draco could only go over the entire weekend in his head. And until last night, the weekend hadn't been very interesting at all....
He'd arrived at Marjorie Dursley's home in the company of the Dursleys, and he consciously admitted to having been thankful to arrive - all those hours in a car with Dudley trying to get Draco to play Gameboy Advance with him, and Mr. and Mrs. Dursley sitting in the front of the car humming loudly to classical music that would have actually been tasteful had it not been punctuated by the Muggles' off-tune singing.
The minute Draco had walked over the threshold into the Muggle-sized manor, before he'd even gotten a glimpse of the surroundings or even seen Marge, wherever she'd been lurking, he'd found himself tugged forcefully into a crushing hug, a wet kiss splattered over his cheek, and one huge, "Ah, here he is, my new neffy poo!"
Harry had been telling the truth - she was a large, ill-mannered, lowly Muggle.
And she had dogs. Lots of dogs. And Draco did not happen to be a fan of dogs.
Now, while the entire Dursley family knew nothing of Draco's heritage, the dogs were quite sensitive to Draco's smell and aura. So once Marge had released him and moved on to maul Dudley with one of her hugs, the Slytherin had taken two steps further into the manor only to be set upon by a pack of growling bulldogs. With nasty cruel pointy teeth.
And the rest of the visit hadn't been much different. The dogs tailed Draco everywhere - the lounge, the bedroom he'd been forced to share with Dudley, the dining room, even to the bathroom, at which point they'd squat in front of the door and growl menacingly so that it took Draco fifteen minutes to get past them and out of the loo.
Harry wasn't mentioned once.
And then....late at night, as Dudley was staring fixedly at the TV and Draco was sitting with his mouth half-open, eyes half-closed, being lulled to sleep by the ominous growling coming from somewhere around his feet where the bulldogs were gathered, waiting to be set free from this nightmare, the phone call came.
He hadn't been able to sleep a wink that night - Dudley was howling with misery at the destruction of his perfect entertainment center, all the games and controls and computer chips gone....And Aunt Petunia's unrestrained sobs from the room next door were no better.
Coming back to the present, Draco began to ponder. It had to have been Voldemort, it just had to have been. But as far as Draco knew, Harry's name had not cropped up in the phone call, so....was he safe? Was he dead? Captured?
And of course, the looming worry of where he was to go now was growing larger and more fearsome every moment. Would Severus take him? Or would they simply leave him with the Dursleys, living with Aunt Marge (who had agreed to take them in until Number Four was rebuilt) for the rest of the vacation?
So lost in thought, Draco didn't even notice when the car pulled onto Privet Drive and stopped just before the tape barricade that stood between the Dursleys and their ruined home. It looked even worse than it had sounded - one blackened wall remained; the other three were no more than charred cinders and splinters of wood littering the ground.
Slowly, the Dursleys got out of the car, taken in the wreckage, and Draco followed suit. His Nimbus was gone, his books, his cauldron, his chess set, his cloaks and robes, his trunk, the little money that he'd had on him.....He thanked Merlin silently for thinking to bring his wand with him to Aunt Marge's home, having sneaked it into the bag after Harry had finished packing Draco's clothes.
Suddenly, the neighbors came running out of Number Three, gathering around the sobbing Dursleys with pitying comments and reassuring words of comfort. But then.....
Number Five's door opened as well, and out swept a middle-aged woman, followed by-
Draco's heart leapt at the sight of Severus hurrying out behind the lady, his large black Muggle jacket billowing slightly around his thin frame.
~~
Okay, tomorrow is the last day of exams, and then I'm free. I'll never ever ever ever have to take another exam in Japan! No more studying Hermione- style.... And lots of time to write chapter thirteen!!
There's a direct Monty Python/ Holy Grail quote. Miss that movie - it's one of the first things I'm sticking in the VCR when I get home.
Reviews are appreciated, flames are Ok as long as they aren't flames about slashiness. I've said it a million times, if you flame me for writing slash, I will simply ask you, "Why did you read it if you don't like it? The. Summary. Says. Slash!" If you want to make a stand about the incorrectness of slash, take it up with someone who doesn't know that it really happens in reality. I'll make an exception if you didn't know what slash was....
Next time....ooo, Draco learning to live in a Mudblood's house. Without servants.