We arrive at the hospital via Floo Network, which drops us off neatly in the fireplace across from the reception desk

Mrs. Weasley leads the charge up to the fourth floor, where we pass by a sickly looking man walking by with an escort. Mrs. Weasley speaks a soft greeting to the man, who moves by without acknowledging her, speaking under his breath about Orange Pekoe or Chai.

"That's Broderick Bode," Ron says quietly. "He's – he was – an Unspeakable with the Ministry, until he was involved in some sort of workplace accident. Now he just wanders about here, convinced he's a teapot, of all things. He was always nice to Dad, though."

Mrs. Weasley stops at a door just three down from the corridor housing the Janus Thickey Ward, where Mom is.

"We'll wait out here a moment," Moody tells Mrs. Weasley. "Family should see him first, I think."

Harry and I step back with Tonks and Moody, but Mrs. Weasley takes Harry by the arm. "I'm sure he'll want to see you right quick," she says. "If it weren't for you, after all, things might be very different for him."

She opens the door and Ginny rushes in ahead of the rest. I'm already contemplating how I'll slip away from Moody long enough to go see Mom. Fred's halfway through the door when George glances back at me and nudges his brother. A quick glance and a nod between the two and suddenly, they're each grabbing an arm and pulling me through the doorway with the rest.

Mr. Weasley looks worn but as cheery as usual. The way his face lights up when his family enters makes me feel like an intruder on the moment, but when his eyes land on me in turn, the cheery, welcoming smile doesn't leave his face, and I relax just a little.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asks, sitting carefully on the edge of her father's bed.

"One hundred percent better!" her father cheerily assures her. "Once they figure out how to stop the bleeding, I'll be heading home. Apparently there was a strange sort of venom in that snake that's keeping the wound open. As it is, I have to stay so they can keep changing the dressings. I have to take a blood-replenishing pill every hour in the meantime."

Fred sits in a chair beside the bed, moving today's copy of the Daily Prophet out of the way. "Did they mention the attack in here?"

"Not one word, of course," Mr. Weasley says, his smile twisting a bit. "Wasn't expecting there to be, really…Ministry wouldn't want folks knowing that an intruder got –"

Mrs. Weasley clears her throat warningly.

"Got me," Mr. Weasley finishes hastily. George and I exchange a look – it's obvious he had been about to say something different.

Fred leans forward in his chair. "What exactly were you doing there last night?"

Mrs. Weasley actually stamps her foot at that. "We're not discussing this right now," she whispers fiercely at Fred.

"The weapon You-Know-Who is after," George breaks in, inspired. "You were guarding it, right?"

"Yeah," Fred lights up with the thought. "Didn't you say You-Know-Who has a snake, Harry?"

"Mad-Eye and Tonks are waiting outside," Mrs. Weasley cuts in crossly. "They'd like to see you, too. Children, you can all wait outside. Come on, now – shoo."

"Now we lost our chance to learn what's going on," Ron says irritably, once the door shuts behind Tonks a little too enthusiastically.

Fred, meanwhile, is patting down his pockets. George reaches into his own and pulls out a pair of Extendable Ears. "Looking for these?"

The two gleefully hand Harry the second Ear as they slide theirs under the door. They beckon for me to kneel down and listen along, but I shake my head.

"I've got to, uh," I say, scrabbling for an excuse, "use the bathroom. You can tell me later what you hear."

They all nod distractedly as conversation starts within the room, and I sneak off and around the corner, to the Janus Thickey Ward, unnoticed.

An orderly smiles politely as I pass, and though I can't think of her name, I know I've seen her on previous visits. "She's just in her room today," she says helpfully, and I murmur my thanks, continuing past the dining room and rec area, to the end of the hall. I choose the last door on the left, knocking before letting myself in.

"Hey, Mom," I say, quietly so I don't startle her. "How are you feeling today?"

If her appearance is any indication, today is one of her better days. Her golden top matches nicely with the brown pants she's got on, and her hair is the neatest I've seen it in recent years.

"Arielle," she says in surprise, looking up from the book on her lap. "I wasn't expecting to see you for another week, at least."

"Special circumstances brought me to London early," I tell her, surprised that she seems to be properly orientated to time. "I was here anyway and thought I'd stop by for a minute."

"What's happening out there that you've left school early?" she says, eyes flitting between me and the window – which I suddenly notice she's tried to blockade with her dresser. "Is He back to full strength? Is Hogwarts safe no longer?"

"If you mean Voldemort," I say slowly, amazed that she's remembering so much of what we talked about in the summer, "he's just gathering followers now, so Hogwarts is safe. My friends' Dad was attacked last night, so I came with them to London a couple days early. They'd invited me to stay with them for the holidays. I don't remember if I'd told you that."

"No," she says disapprovingly, "you didn't. Sven was going to spend Christmas in the mountains, watching you."

"Oh," I say lamely. "Sorry." In truth, I hadn't thought she would remember if I did tell her, but she's surprisingly lucid today.

"Who is it you're staying with?" she asks after a moment's pause.

"Arthur and Molly Weasley," I say.

"Hm," Mom says, thinking. "Was she a Prewett?"

"I don't have a clue," I say with a shrug. "Their kids are all very nice, though – seven of them total. One works with dragons in Romania, though I met him last year during the Tournament – first task was dragons, remember? The oldest was in Egypt working as a curse-breaker, but now he's at Gringott's – and dating Fleur, but I think I approve of it. I might've had a little talk with him this summer about that."

"Well, don't go scaring him away if he's good for her," Mom says, a twinkle of amusement in her eye.

"Mom, do you know anything about the second Order of the Phoenix? Do you know what they're guarding at the Ministry?" It's a long shot that she'd know anything since she's been here, but I have to try.

Her face pales a little at the name, I notice, but she just says, "Order of the What? I don't know where you come up with these things sometimes, Arielle –"

"This summer," I say, interrupting her in a low voice, "I saw a picture of the first Order. Guess who was sitting in the front row beside Harry's parents?"

"It's weakening so fast," she says to herself, her eyes flitting to mine. She grabs a hold of my hand. "Listen to me, Arielle – you never saw me in any pictures. You don't know anything about the Order. You're going to leave here, and not remember any of this conversation."

No picture," I repeat, feeling a little sleepy. "The Order…what Order?"

"Good, yes," Mom says, placing her other hand on mine. "Be safe, just for a little longer…"

But the diamond drop pendant at Mom's throat glints suddenly in the sunlight that streams through the window as a cloud passes, and I blink, as if coming out of a daze. I blink again, and everything comes flooding back.

"You were in the picture of the Order," I insist, shaking off her hands. "I've seen you in other pictures, too. I've seen the Ravenclaw yearbooks, and I've seen pictures of you and Dad while he was the Ravenclaw Head of House and you were Head Girl –"

She reaches for my hand again. "No, you haven't –"

"I have," I say louder, fighting the sleepy feeling as it tries to slip back around me. "Mom, why did the Sorting Hat tell me my father was Slytherin, even though Dad was in Hufflepuff?"

She looks like I've physically smacked her. "Why isn't it working? No, you're too young to know – it has to work –"

"You might as well tell me," I say, tone hard. "I'll find out anyway, eventually. What isn't working, Mom? I don't know what you're talking about –"

A knock on the door interrupts my conversation.

"It's time for supper," an orderly says in the doorway. "Would you like a plate brought up to eat with her?"

"No," I say, realizing I've been here longer than I meant to, "I have to get going. Mom, I'll come back again before the New Year, okay?"

I step out into the hall, falling into step with the orderly as we head in the same direction.

"I know sometimes she seems like she's making sense," he says quietly, as we walk. "But she's damaged, and ninety-nine percent of what she says is nonsense, however real it may seem. Be careful not to get worked up about things she says to you – none of it is real."

"I appreciate your advice," I say, as the orderly stops in the rec doorway, "but I think I can tell real for myself, thanks."

The healers are changing Mr. Weasley's dressings, and the others are nowhere to be found, so I return to the reception area on the first floor in search of my group. Not one is waiting on the hard plastic chairs, and when I ask the grumpy receptionist she brashly tells me they haven't left the building.

I finally find them sans-Moody on the fifth floor, sitting around a table sipping tea. Tonks, the only one facing the door, spots me first.

"Where exactly did you go to?" she asks, her hair sporting streaks of green. "We looked all over for you. Moody's still searching around the building."

"We were starting to get worried," Mrs. Weasley cuts in, turning to look at me.

"I told George," I tell them, hoping I won't have to explain the truth, "that I was going in search of the washrooms. I got lost and ended up down the wrong corridor. One woman down there couldn't stop laughing, though another growled like a wolf when I went by. A man further down was sprouting broccoli for hair and was ripping off his clothes to see if it was all turning to vegetables –"

"Alright, alright," Mrs. Weasley interrupts hastily. "The important thing is that you're here now. We've got tea here for you, and it's still hot, the boys just ordered it – Earl Grey Green, I think they said."

Fred and George nod a confirmation, and Ginny rolls her eyes. "They only knew that because I told them," she says. "They were going to just order the weirdest thing they could find."

"Why is that so easy to believe?" I say, sitting down as they make room for me around the table. Everyone is content to make small talk until Moody returns about ten minutes later.

"Where were you this whole time?" Moody asks, his glass eye spinning violently. I repeat my story, and while he doesn't question me further, I don't think he fully buys my story, either. I'm relieved when Mrs. Weasley stands up and announces we'd best get back unless we want to be eating supper at midnight.

I try to lend a hand in the kitchen once we return, even though Mrs. Weasley has to instruct me on how to do everything. I can tell she wants to ask how I don't have a clue about any of this by the curious looks she gives me when she has to show me how to use a potato peeler, or tell me how to cut lettuce best for a salad.

Ginny, helping me with each task, laughs along with me at every mistake I make, until I slice into my right index finger pretty good, staining the leafy produce green. Mrs. Weasley quickly has it wrapped, though, and with a good rinsing, the salad is ready to be tossed.

Dinner itself is a light, cheery affair, reflecting everyone's relief at Mr. Weasley's improving condition. Harry, though, remains in his room when everyone else comes down, and sleeps through dinner. When dinner is finished and the adults shoo us off to bed, I catch up with George at the top of the second flight of stairs.

"Did you guys hear anything interesting at the hospital?" I ask, tugging on the arm of his sweatshirt.

He looks at me with a strangely studious look on his face. "I'll tell you if you tell me where you really snuck off to – though I do like the broccoli man story."

I bite my lip and stare back for a moment. "Okay," I finally say, letting out a breath. "Not out here, though. Follow me."