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Krysta · 05-07-2008, 09:21 AM

Chapter Four: Conspiracies of Silence

Harry never did get the Bumps, and after another night and morning of rest he was up and out of bed, a little bruised but none the worst for wear. Ron, Ginny and the twins were still bumping around the house for three days to come but Harry didn’t seem to be affected, for which he was extremely grateful.
Hedwig, however still hadn’t turned up and Harry anxiously watched the window and the sky for any sign of her. Percy remained locked in his room anytime he wasn’t in the office and Mr. Weasley didn’t come home for another two days. When he did come home, one dark and stormy night he was tired and weary. He took the time to say hello to Harry, but when Harry began to ask him about the night of the attack, Mr. Weasley shook his head.

“In the morning, Harry. I really can’t think right now.” And with that he traipsed up the stairs to bed.

The next morning saw a change in Mr Weasley's appearance and persona. Everyone was already at the breakfast table when he came into the room, beaming. All save for one or two faint blotches on their faces the Bumps had cleared up completely and they all sat around talking happily, except Percy who had already left for the Ministry.

“Well, Harry, it’ good to see you looking so well. You had us worried for a time.” He smiled at him and Harry smiled back.

“Thanks Mr. Weasley.” Harry paused. “I know it’s early, but I’ve been going crazy. What happened to me? How did I get here?” Mr. Weasley looked stern for a moment, regarding Harry over his mug of coffee.

“Well Harry, it’s a very strange story. Firstly, if you tell me what you remember and I’ll see if I can fill in the gaps. Oh wait a minute. I better make a copy of what you say. There are some people who are extremely interested in your story.” Mr. Weasley pulled some parchment and a quill from his case and placed them on the table. With his wand he tapped the quill and uttered a word Harry couldn’t hear. The quill sprung into life and hovered over the parchment. Harry watched it suspiciously, remembering the lie-writing quill that Rita Skeeter used last year to publish scandalous stories about him and his friends. Ron saw his expression.

“It’s ok, Harry. It’s just a quill. It will just write what you say, and nothing else.” Harry relaxed a little.

Harry began to explain the entirety of the events leading up the attack of the Knight bus. He began way back with Dudley coming off his diet and the nasty joke he and Piers played on him with the orange juice. He told them the story from beginning to end; the letters he wrote that never arrived, his escape from Uncle Vernon, falling asleep on the bus to find the witch watching him. He told them of the attack and how Lucius Malfoy and the witch had argued before she finally handed him over, and the wizard duels that followed. Finally he told them how the witch had thrown him from the bus; the last thing he could remember being the fall through the night sky.

Finally he finished. It had taken him a full ten minutes to tell the story and the quill had used three pages of parchment. Everyone was silent, watching him. He felt uncomfortable. Did they too think he was crazy or concussed as Percy had? Finally Mr. Weasley spoke.

“That’s quite a story, Harry.”

“It’s true, Mr. Weasley. I’m not crazy, it all happened.”

“I’m sure it did, my boy, I’m sure it did. But that’s what’s worrying me. Voldemort must want you desperately to send Death Eater’s to capture you in public like that, and risky too. He couldn’t have known how many passengers were on that bus. He must have known they might have been overthrown.”

“But Lucius escaped, Dad. And this witch was nowhere to be seen.” Commented George. Mr Weasley nodded.

“Exactly. So what I want to know, is why didn’t the other passengers, including our own man, remember their presence?”

“They must have had their memories modified.” Suggested Ron. Harry nodded in agreement, but Mr. Weasley didn’t look so confident, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to take the same attitude.

“It’s not that simple, dears. Modifying a muggle memory is complicated enough. To modify the memories of four fully-grown and experienced wizards so that they remember the entire evening all besides the presence of two key figures: That’s another story.” She tried to explain. Harry, Ron and Ginny still looked a little vacant.

“You see the spell that modifies a memory wipes out an entire section of memory. It doesn’t nit-pick and it isn’t selective. Therefore, it can’t erase the memory of two people from a scene that they otherwise remember perfectly clearly.” Explained Mr. Weasley. Harry nodded with a frown.

“Then what’s going on?” he asked.

“Well, either you, my friend, are losing your marbles…” Harry looked about to protest. “…Which I don’t believe you are.” Mr. Weasley added quickly and reassuringly. “Or, there is some very powerful magic at work here that I, for one, cannot possibly comprehend.”

Ron looked at Harry with a grimace, whilst Harry noticed Ginny shiver next to him.

The rest of breakfast was devoted to Mr Weasley, with prompts and comments from Ron along the way, explaining how Harry had come to end up in the spare bed in Ron’s room.

Apparently Mr Weasley found a strange letter on his desk late in the afternoon of the eve of the attack. He had just been about to leave for home when a Kestrel flew through the window, dropped the letter and flew out again. The letter had been short, anonymous and its message had been a warning. It had simply said to keep a close eye on the Knight Bus this evening, and that was it. When he had taken it to Cornelius Fudge, he had waved his hand and dismissed it as a joke or prank, but Mr Weasley’s senses had been alerted. Sending an owl home to let them know he’d be late, he sent scouts out to follow the bus. The next morning they returned with three unconscious Death Eaters and a teenage boy: Harry. The Scouts who had been on brooms said Harry just fell out of the sky, barely conscious. Despite their attempts to catch the boy, they managed only to slow him down before he landed in a Muggle vegetable garden. Harry figured that’s how he got his bruises. When the explosions and flashes from the bus above them had ceased they went up to investigate. Besides the driver and conductor, they found three Death Eaters unconscious on the floor, a barely conscious Ministry Employee and three very scared passengers. When interviewed, they all gave the same story:
They all had recognised Harry for who he was of course, and told the Ministry officials that five minutes after Harry had woken the bus was attacked by three Death Eaters and that The Ministry Employee and Harry had somehow managed to fight them off. None of them however could come up with an explanation as to why Harry had “fallen” out of the bus. Harry had been unconscious when they found him and showed signs of the very rare ‘hibernation fever’, which Mr Weasley explained, can sometimes occur when a particularly potent protection spell puts a person to sleep. Not knowing what to do with the boy, Mr Weasley offered to take him home with him, as Harry had stayed with them many times and that his youngest son was Harry’s best friend. Fudge had eventually agreed only on the condition that Mr Weasley got a statement out of Harry and that he was kept up to date on any developments.

Harry sneered at the last part of the story.

“Even if I did tell him the truth about Lucius Malfoy and the witch, he wouldn’t believe me anyway. ‘Lucius Malfoy has been cleared, boy. Now stop all this silliness, you’re nothing but a trouble maker, always telling stories.’ That’s what he’d say.” Harry growled whilst Ron sniggered at Harry’s impression of the Minister Of Magic.

Just then a flurry of feathers whizzed past their head and slammed into the wall above the cooker. Half-hoping to see Hedwig Harry was amused but disappointed to see Pig emerge from behind a saucepan. Ron shook his head and Pig hopped over to the kitchen table, dropped a letter and began jumping up and down in glee.

“He’s totally loopy…ouch!” cried Ron as Pig tweaked his finger a little too hard. Ron opened the letter. “It’s from Hermione!” he announced and Harry shuffled closer so he could read over Ron’s shoulder.

Dear Ron (and Harry),

You poor things!!!! Oh Harry you could have been killed! What did you think you were doing? Ron says you’re alright, but are you? He said you were covered in bruises and were unconscious for days! You have to tell me everything when I see you.

Ron, the Bumps sound simply dreadful! Are you all alright now? Life is so boring here. I wish I was there with you, but I don’t want to get the Bumps because it will make my handwriting all wiggly when I’m writing my essays.

I hope Hedwig turns up soon, Harry. I’m sure she’s alright, she’s a very clever bird!

Well I have to go now, but write back and tell me how you all are.

Take Care,

Hermione

PS- Is everything ok with you-know-what?

“Well she sounds the same as ever.” Announced Ron, smiling.

“You-know-what?” Harry asked. “What does she mean?” Ron shrugged.

“Who knows half of what Hermione goes on about.” He changed the subject very quickly. “You up to a game of Quidditch, Harry?” Harry nodded, the idea of flying on his Firebolt for the first time for months was very, very tempting.

“Shall I see if Fred and George want to play?” Ron nodded and went off to get the brooms.

Harry went off towards the stairs.” Halfway up he met Ginny coming out of her room with a pile of papers. The moment she saw him she looked panicked and quickly turned and went back in. A little hurt Harry carried on up the stairs. He knew she had had a crush on him when she was younger, but he didn’t think she still did. Finally he came to Fred and George’s room. He could hear voices and thumps from inside.

“No, no. That’s pitiful!”

“Needs to be bigger, doesn’t it?” Harry heard a thump.

“How’s that?”

“Better, but not quite right.” Harry knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” the twins called in unison.

“It’s Harry. Want a game of Quidditch?” there was silence followed by frantic shuffling and moving of objects inside the room. Finally they called.

“Come in.” Harry opened the door and cautiously entered the room. The curtains were closed and Fred was doing his best to conceal a large box under his bed with his body.

“Let’s go then, shall we?” said George ushering Harry out of the room.

Harry thought maybe they were working on more practical jokes for their future shop, though again, he was a little hurt that they didn’t trust him enough to see what they were doing.

Once outside he forgot all about the strange behaviour displayed by Ginny, the twins and even Ron and Hermione. Maybe they did all think he was crazy. It wouldn’t be the first time. In The second year everyone thought he was a cold-blooded murderer, and in the fourth year everyone was avoiding him when Rita Skeeter published a story saying he was temperamental and had violent tendencies. However flying around the meadow chasing an old tattered quaffed that didn’t really fly anymore, the wind rushing through his air and past his ear, Harry felt completely free from any worries.

Two hours and forty minutes later and talking haughtily the four of them traipsed back into the house. Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen getting lunch. Ron and the others all stayed in the kitchen whilst Harry went up to Ron’s room to put his Firebolt away. As he entered the room and flutter of feather’s caught his eye and as he turned to see what trouble Pig had got himself into this time, Harry screamed with delight.

“Hedwig!” there she was, as white as snow and looking more beautiful than Harry had remembered. He rushed over to her and kissed her head gently, which surprised her and she ruffled her feathers with embarrassment. He stroked her head and she nipped his finger affectionately. She climbed onto his hand and he sat with her stroking her glistening feathers.

“Where’ve you been? What happened? Where’s Sirius?” she hopped off his hand and onto the desk here she picked at a letter. Hastily he tore open the envelope expecting to see Sirius’ handwriting. In it’s place he discovered an elegant but clear transcript.

Harry,

I believe this beautiful creature belongs to you. She is an extremely intelligent bird. (She has a great name by the way.)

(Harry read this aloud to her, and Hedwig fluffed her feathers with pride.)

When I found her she had a broken wing but a little rest and a little magic has put that to rights.

(Hedwig extended her left wing as if to animate this.)

In the future it is probably better for you not to divulge information of your whereabouts or of any other solitary night-trips you may plan to make, in a letter. This is undoubtedly how your friend here came to injury. Remember ‘his’ spies are everywhere, Harry. Please be more careful.

PS- don’t worry about the Bumps, you’ve already had them.

Harry stared at the last comment with horror. How did they know the Weasleys had had the Bumps? More importantly, how did they know that Harry had already had them when he didn’t know himself? Who on earth was the letter from, and how had they come to find Hedwig? Where had they found Hedwig? Had she already made it to Sirius? Had Sirius read his letter? Had his foolishness in divulging his plans to travel alone on the Knight Bus put Sirius in danger as well as all the people who had travelled with him? If they had followed Hedwig, they might have found Sirius’ hideout. He felt so stupid. Why didn’t he think? Sirius was always telling him not to put anything secret in a letter. Harry had put other people’s lives in danger as well as his own, and the pangs of guilt were eating away at his stomach. Stroking Hedwig once more, he poured her some water and left, shaking, to find the Weasley family in the kitchen.

When he did find them however they were all huddled together whispering, Mrs Weasley included. When Ron saw Harry had entered the room, he called out loudly.

“Harry! There you are, you took your time.” The huddle of whispering immediately dispersed and Mrs Weasley beamed at him.

“Would you like some bread with your soup, dear?” Harry nodded his head and said “please.” Though he was both suspicious and hurt by the secretive behaviour.

“What you got there, Harry?” asked George, his mouth half-full of bread.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, George.” Added Mrs Weasley.

“A letter.” He answered, pushing the hurt feelings aside and concentrating on the more pressing matter. “Hedwig’s back.” He added.

“That’s brilliant.” Said Ron, obviously confused by his friend’s gloomy expression. “You’ve been so worried about her.” He added.

“See, dear. There was nothing to worry about after all.” Said Mrs Weasley smiling.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Harry held out the letter, and Ron took it reading it, with his Mother reading over his shoulder. When they finished they both looked up at him with concern. Ron’s face was white as a sheet.

“Who’s it from?” said a shaky Ron. Harry shrugged. He felt terrible. Mrs Weasley looked unnerved and uncomfortable. She was trying not to look at Harry. She turned and went back to the stove and the saucepan of soup. George and Fred were just finishing the letter and were looking at each other sternly. Harry had never heard The Burrow so silent. He wanted to apologise. He wanted to run away. He wanted to disappear. It was Ginny who broke the silence.

“It’s ok now, though.” She looked around at the glum faces. “I mean he made a mistake, but he was upset and desperate. He’s safe now, and no one was hurt. People make mistakes.” Harry could have kissed her. But he knew that it wasn’t as simple as that.

“Thank you, Ginny. But this means Vold…You-Know-Who knows where I am. He knows I’m here…with you.” Mrs Weasley banged a saucepan and Ron looked away. Ginny fell silent and sniffed. It could have started raining right there in the kitchen and none of them would have noticed. Harry looked at the floor. He’d put the lives of his best friend and his family, the family that always took him in and treated him like kin, in mortal danger. Ron was the next to speak.

“I better write to Hermione. Tell her not to bother coming.” His voice was cold and Harry felt like crying. He could feel it. Nearly fifteen and he was about to burst into tears. He turned on his heel and fled up the stairs.

He didn’t know how long he’d slept. He’d cried himself to sleep, and when he woke it was dark and the house was still. The Weasley’s hadn’t woken him for dinner, and when he looked over at Ron’s bed he could see that he was fast asleep. Harry quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of the door onto the landing. He could hear low voices from downstairs. It was Mr And Mrs Weasley. He moved closer to the top of the stairs and crouched low so he could make out some of the conversation.

“…need to get him out of the house.”

“Well what do you suggest? It won’t be easy.”

“Ron will think of something. He’ll know what to say.”

“And where do you intend he goes?”

“I…I don’t know.”

There was silence. Harry sighed deeply. Even Mr Weasley wanted him out of his house. He crept back to Ron’s room and silently pulled on his shoes. He was already dressed having fallen asleep fully clothed so he packed up his trunk and began moving it to the window. Hedwig watched him closely, finally catching on and flew out of the window and onto the roof to wait for him. He was reaching for his broom when he heard movement behind him.

“So you’re just going to run away?” he turned, expecting the whisper to have come from Ron.

“Ginny? What are you doing in here?” he whispered back in a panic.

“I saw you on the landing” she began “You can’t run away, Harry. He’ll find you if you do.”

“And if I stay here he’ll kill all of you as well.” Ginny looked flustered. In the shadows of the room he realised how tall she’d become. She was barely three inches shorter then he was.

“But. Harry…you can’t.” her voice wavered and he suddenly realised she was silently crying.

“Hush, Ginny.” He began gently. Ron stirred slightly. “You’ll wake Ron.” She looked fiercely at him, and he was taken aback. She always seemed so quiet and timid, but this girl was furious.

“Good!” she bit back “Maybe he can knock some sense into you.” Her voice was slightly louder and Ron stirred again. Harry moved his fingers to his lips and motioned for her to hush again. She stepped closer and whispered again.

“He won’t come here, Harry. He only sent the Death eaters to attack the bus because he knew you were alone. You’re protected here. We protect you.” She was pleading with him now. Harry shook his head sadly.

“Ginny, even your Dad wants me out of the house. Those were his exact words. ‘…get him out of the house’.” He could see her frown.

“Dad would never say that.”

“Well he did.” Said Harry firmly. “I heard him. So I’m going now to save him the embarrassment of asking me to leave.” He moved towards the window but she grasped his arm and pulled him back.

“Please, Harry.” She was begging, fresh tears in her eyes.

“What’s going on?” a loud voice came from behind them. The both spun around to see Ron wide-awake and sitting up in bed. He looked from Ginny to Harry and back again. Getting out of bed with a strange expression on his face, he suddenly saw the trunk by the window and the broomstick in Harry’s hand.

“It’s nothing, Ron…” began Ginny, knowing it was pointless.

“You’re leaving?” Ron yelled at him angrily? “Just going to run away? Just like that? What is it with you?” Harry and Ginny tried to hush him, but it was too late. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and the door was flung open. Mr And Mrs Weasley appeared in the room looking worried and confused.

“What’s going on?” demanded Mr Weasley.

“That’s what I want to know.” Thundered Ron. “He’s running away again.” Mrs Weasley gasped and ran to Harry’s side.

“What? What’s this all about, Harry?” Mr Weasley demanded again.

“I…I…” Harry stammered.

“Ginny what on earth are you doing in here?” asked an astonished and upset Mrs Weasley. By now Fred, George and Percy had appeared.

“I was trying to make him stay. He said he’d heard Dad say he wanted Harry to leave. But it’s not true is it? Is it, Dad?” She was sniffing a little.

“Of course not, what’s all this, boy?” Mr Weasley looked hurt and confused at Harry. Harry felt uncomfortable.

“I heard you. Just now. You said you wanted me out of the house.” A couple of tears were welling in his eyes now, as Ginny sniffed back her own. He noticed he was shivering now, and was still clinging to his arm. Mr And Mrs Weasley looked at each other, relief flooding over their faces.

“Oh, Harry, you silly thing.” Smiled Mrs Weasley. Ron seemed to suddenly understand what was going on and Ginny stopped shivering. George and Fred were sniggering by the door, and Percy looked annoyed to have been gotten up over nothing. Harry however was confused.

“Harry, we don’t want you to leave.” Said Ron, smiling.

“Of course we don’t. What kind of family would we be if we did?” added Mr Weasley and smiled.
Family? Had Harry heard him correctly? Mr Weasley had referred to them all as Harry’s family.

“Harry, dear, we think of you as a kind of adopted son.” Harry was in shock at Mrs Weasley’s words.

“Well, kind of a distant Cousin, really.” Said George and Ron thumped him.

“Then you want me to stay?”

“Of we do old chap. It wouldn’t be summer without you, mate.” Chimed in Fred with a grin.

“Besides, I got this today.” Mr Weasley produced a letter “It was delivered by that darn Kestrel that delivered the other one.” He added. He held out the letter to Harry, and Ron and Ginny gathered around, reading over his shoulders.

Mr Weasley,

Thank you for heeding my warning the other night. You undoubtedly saved the boy’s life. I believe he is staying with you now, and that your youngest son is his best friend.

You are a good man Mr Weasley and I have a favour to ask. You would probably do this anyway out of the goodness of your heart, but I promise that your kindness shall be rewarded in the future.

I simply ask that you keep the boy with you until he should return to Hogwarts. He is safe with you protected by both your presence and friendship and by a little magic of my own. The Dark Lord will not seek the boy with you, and when he returns to school he will be protected by the spells surrounding the grounds and the watchful eye of the headmaster and staff.

I thank you in advance for you kindness, sir.

And there the letter ended. No signature, no name at all. But after Ron and Ginny had finished reading and had exchanged confused but relaxed looks with their family, Harry had continued to stare at the letter.

“What is it, Harry?” asked Ginny, who noticed first. Harry shook his head then turned to his trunk. He unlocked it and located the letter he had received with Hedwig’s return earlier that day. Opening it, he held it side by side with the letter Mr Weasley had received. Ginny and Ron moved closer to see what he was doing and Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. Ron and Harry looked at each other as if to say, ‘here we go again’.

The handwriting of both letters was a perfect match.

05-07-2008, 09:21 AM	#7 (permalink)
Krysta Jarvey Join Date: May 2008 Location: Leicester, UK Posts: 567 Hogwarts RPG Name: Krysta Hedwig Sixth Year Ministry RPG Name: Kye Black Magical Creatures	Chapter Four: Conspiracies of Silence Harry never did get the Bumps, and after another night and morning of rest he was up and out of bed, a little bruised but none the worst for wear. Ron, Ginny and the twins were still bumping around the house for three days to come but Harry didn’t seem to be affected, for which he was extremely grateful. Hedwig, however still hadn’t turned up and Harry anxiously watched the window and the sky for any sign of her. Percy remained locked in his room anytime he wasn’t in the office and Mr. Weasley didn’t come home for another two days. When he did come home, one dark and stormy night he was tired and weary. He took the time to say hello to Harry, but when Harry began to ask him about the night of the attack, Mr. Weasley shook his head. “In the morning, Harry. I really can’t think right now.” And with that he traipsed up the stairs to bed. The next morning saw a change in Mr Weasley's appearance and persona. Everyone was already at the breakfast table when he came into the room, beaming. All save for one or two faint blotches on their faces the Bumps had cleared up completely and they all sat around talking happily, except Percy who had already left for the Ministry. “Well, Harry, it’ good to see you looking so well. You had us worried for a time.” He smiled at him and Harry smiled back. “Thanks Mr. Weasley.” Harry paused. “I know it’s early, but I’ve been going crazy. What happened to me? How did I get here?” Mr. Weasley looked stern for a moment, regarding Harry over his mug of coffee. “Well Harry, it’s a very strange story. Firstly, if you tell me what you remember and I’ll see if I can fill in the gaps. Oh wait a minute. I better make a copy of what you say. There are some people who are extremely interested in your story.” Mr. Weasley pulled some parchment and a quill from his case and placed them on the table. With his wand he tapped the quill and uttered a word Harry couldn’t hear. The quill sprung into life and hovered over the parchment. Harry watched it suspiciously, remembering the lie-writing quill that Rita Skeeter used last year to publish scandalous stories about him and his friends. Ron saw his expression. “It’s ok, Harry. It’s just a quill. It will just write what you say, and nothing else.” Harry relaxed a little. Harry began to explain the entirety of the events leading up the attack of the Knight bus. He began way back with Dudley coming off his diet and the nasty joke he and Piers played on him with the orange juice. He told them the story from beginning to end; the letters he wrote that never arrived, his escape from Uncle Vernon, falling asleep on the bus to find the witch watching him. He told them of the attack and how Lucius Malfoy and the witch had argued before she finally handed him over, and the wizard duels that followed. Finally he told them how the witch had thrown him from the bus; the last thing he could remember being the fall through the night sky. Finally he finished. It had taken him a full ten minutes to tell the story and the quill had used three pages of parchment. Everyone was silent, watching him. He felt uncomfortable. Did they too think he was crazy or concussed as Percy had? Finally Mr. Weasley spoke. “That’s quite a story, Harry.” “It’s true, Mr. Weasley. I’m not crazy, it all happened.” “I’m sure it did, my boy, I’m sure it did. But that’s what’s worrying me. Voldemort must want you desperately to send Death Eater’s to capture you in public like that, and risky too. He couldn’t have known how many passengers were on that bus. He must have known they might have been overthrown.” “But Lucius escaped, Dad. And this witch was nowhere to be seen.” Commented George. Mr Weasley nodded. “Exactly. So what I want to know, is why didn’t the other passengers, including our own man, remember their presence?” “They must have had their memories modified.” Suggested Ron. Harry nodded in agreement, but Mr. Weasley didn’t look so confident, and Mrs. Weasley seemed to take the same attitude. “It’s not that simple, dears. Modifying a muggle memory is complicated enough. To modify the memories of four fully-grown and experienced wizards so that they remember the entire evening all besides the presence of two key figures: That’s another story.” She tried to explain. Harry, Ron and Ginny still looked a little vacant. “You see the spell that modifies a memory wipes out an entire section of memory. It doesn’t nit-pick and it isn’t selective. Therefore, it can’t erase the memory of two people from a scene that they otherwise remember perfectly clearly.” Explained Mr. Weasley. Harry nodded with a frown. “Then what’s going on?” he asked. “Well, either you, my friend, are losing your marbles…” Harry looked about to protest. “…Which I don’t believe you are.” Mr. Weasley added quickly and reassuringly. “Or, there is some very powerful magic at work here that I, for one, cannot possibly comprehend.” Ron looked at Harry with a grimace, whilst Harry noticed Ginny shiver next to him. The rest of breakfast was devoted to Mr Weasley, with prompts and comments from Ron along the way, explaining how Harry had come to end up in the spare bed in Ron’s room. Apparently Mr Weasley found a strange letter on his desk late in the afternoon of the eve of the attack. He had just been about to leave for home when a Kestrel flew through the window, dropped the letter and flew out again. The letter had been short, anonymous and its message had been a warning. It had simply said to keep a close eye on the Knight Bus this evening, and that was it. When he had taken it to Cornelius Fudge, he had waved his hand and dismissed it as a joke or prank, but Mr Weasley’s senses had been alerted. Sending an owl home to let them know he’d be late, he sent scouts out to follow the bus. The next morning they returned with three unconscious Death Eaters and a teenage boy: Harry. The Scouts who had been on brooms said Harry just fell out of the sky, barely conscious. Despite their attempts to catch the boy, they managed only to slow him down before he landed in a Muggle vegetable garden. Harry figured that’s how he got his bruises. When the explosions and flashes from the bus above them had ceased they went up to investigate. Besides the driver and conductor, they found three Death Eaters unconscious on the floor, a barely conscious Ministry Employee and three very scared passengers. When interviewed, they all gave the same story: They all had recognised Harry for who he was of course, and told the Ministry officials that five minutes after Harry had woken the bus was attacked by three Death Eaters and that The Ministry Employee and Harry had somehow managed to fight them off. None of them however could come up with an explanation as to why Harry had “fallen” out of the bus. Harry had been unconscious when they found him and showed signs of the very rare ‘hibernation fever’, which Mr Weasley explained, can sometimes occur when a particularly potent protection spell puts a person to sleep. Not knowing what to do with the boy, Mr Weasley offered to take him home with him, as Harry had stayed with them many times and that his youngest son was Harry’s best friend. Fudge had eventually agreed only on the condition that Mr Weasley got a statement out of Harry and that he was kept up to date on any developments. Harry sneered at the last part of the story. “Even if I did tell him the truth about Lucius Malfoy and the witch, he wouldn’t believe me anyway. ‘Lucius Malfoy has been cleared, boy. Now stop all this silliness, you’re nothing but a trouble maker, always telling stories.’ That’s what he’d say.” Harry growled whilst Ron sniggered at Harry’s impression of the Minister Of Magic. Just then a flurry of feathers whizzed past their head and slammed into the wall above the cooker. Half-hoping to see Hedwig Harry was amused but disappointed to see Pig emerge from behind a saucepan. Ron shook his head and Pig hopped over to the kitchen table, dropped a letter and began jumping up and down in glee. “He’s totally loopy…ouch!” cried Ron as Pig tweaked his finger a little too hard. Ron opened the letter. “It’s from Hermione!” he announced and Harry shuffled closer so he could read over Ron’s shoulder. Dear Ron (and Harry), You poor things!!!! Oh Harry you could have been killed! What did you think you were doing? Ron says you’re alright, but are you? He said you were covered in bruises and were unconscious for days! You have to tell me everything when I see you. Ron, the Bumps sound simply dreadful! Are you all alright now? Life is so boring here. I wish I was there with you, but I don’t want to get the Bumps because it will make my handwriting all wiggly when I’m writing my essays. I hope Hedwig turns up soon, Harry. I’m sure she’s alright, she’s a very clever bird! Well I have to go now, but write back and tell me how you all are. Take Care, Hermione PS- Is everything ok with you-know-what? “Well she sounds the same as ever.” Announced Ron, smiling. “You-know-what?” Harry asked. “What does she mean?” Ron shrugged. “Who knows half of what Hermione goes on about.” He changed the subject very quickly. “You up to a game of Quidditch, Harry?” Harry nodded, the idea of flying on his Firebolt for the first time for months was very, very tempting. “Shall I see if Fred and George want to play?” Ron nodded and went off to get the brooms. Harry went off towards the stairs.” Halfway up he met Ginny coming out of her room with a pile of papers. The moment she saw him she looked panicked and quickly turned and went back in. A little hurt Harry carried on up the stairs. He knew she had had a crush on him when she was younger, but he didn’t think she still did. Finally he came to Fred and George’s room. He could hear voices and thumps from inside. “No, no. That’s pitiful!” “Needs to be bigger, doesn’t it?” Harry heard a thump. “How’s that?” “Better, but not quite right.” Harry knocked on the door. “Who is it?” the twins called in unison. “It’s Harry. Want a game of Quidditch?” there was silence followed by frantic shuffling and moving of objects inside the room. Finally they called. “Come in.” Harry opened the door and cautiously entered the room. The curtains were closed and Fred was doing his best to conceal a large box under his bed with his body. “Let’s go then, shall we?” said George ushering Harry out of the room. Harry thought maybe they were working on more practical jokes for their future shop, though again, he was a little hurt that they didn’t trust him enough to see what they were doing. Once outside he forgot all about the strange behaviour displayed by Ginny, the twins and even Ron and Hermione. Maybe they did all think he was crazy. It wouldn’t be the first time. In The second year everyone thought he was a cold-blooded murderer, and in the fourth year everyone was avoiding him when Rita Skeeter published a story saying he was temperamental and had violent tendencies. However flying around the meadow chasing an old tattered quaffed that didn’t really fly anymore, the wind rushing through his air and past his ear, Harry felt completely free from any worries. Two hours and forty minutes later and talking haughtily the four of them traipsed back into the house. Mrs Weasley was in the kitchen getting lunch. Ron and the others all stayed in the kitchen whilst Harry went up to Ron’s room to put his Firebolt away. As he entered the room and flutter of feather’s caught his eye and as he turned to see what trouble Pig had got himself into this time, Harry screamed with delight. “Hedwig!” there she was, as white as snow and looking more beautiful than Harry had remembered. He rushed over to her and kissed her head gently, which surprised her and she ruffled her feathers with embarrassment. He stroked her head and she nipped his finger affectionately. She climbed onto his hand and he sat with her stroking her glistening feathers. “Where’ve you been? What happened? Where’s Sirius?” she hopped off his hand and onto the desk here she picked at a letter. Hastily he tore open the envelope expecting to see Sirius’ handwriting. In it’s place he discovered an elegant but clear transcript. Harry, I believe this beautiful creature belongs to you. She is an extremely intelligent bird. (She has a great name by the way.) (Harry read this aloud to her, and Hedwig fluffed her feathers with pride.) When I found her she had a broken wing but a little rest and a little magic has put that to rights. (Hedwig extended her left wing as if to animate this.) In the future it is probably better for you not to divulge information of your whereabouts or of any other solitary night-trips you may plan to make, in a letter. This is undoubtedly how your friend here came to injury. Remember ‘his’ spies are everywhere, Harry. Please be more careful. PS- don’t worry about the Bumps, you’ve already had them. Harry stared at the last comment with horror. How did they know the Weasleys had had the Bumps? More importantly, how did they know that Harry had already had them when he didn’t know himself? Who on earth was the letter from, and how had they come to find Hedwig? Where had they found Hedwig? Had she already made it to Sirius? Had Sirius read his letter? Had his foolishness in divulging his plans to travel alone on the Knight Bus put Sirius in danger as well as all the people who had travelled with him? If they had followed Hedwig, they might have found Sirius’ hideout. He felt so stupid. Why didn’t he think? Sirius was always telling him not to put anything secret in a letter. Harry had put other people’s lives in danger as well as his own, and the pangs of guilt were eating away at his stomach. Stroking Hedwig once more, he poured her some water and left, shaking, to find the Weasley family in the kitchen. When he did find them however they were all huddled together whispering, Mrs Weasley included. When Ron saw Harry had entered the room, he called out loudly. “Harry! There you are, you took your time.” The huddle of whispering immediately dispersed and Mrs Weasley beamed at him. “Would you like some bread with your soup, dear?” Harry nodded his head and said “please.” Though he was both suspicious and hurt by the secretive behaviour. “What you got there, Harry?” asked George, his mouth half-full of bread. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, George.” Added Mrs Weasley. “A letter.” He answered, pushing the hurt feelings aside and concentrating on the more pressing matter. “Hedwig’s back.” He added. “That’s brilliant.” Said Ron, obviously confused by his friend’s gloomy expression. “You’ve been so worried about her.” He added. “See, dear. There was nothing to worry about after all.” Said Mrs Weasley smiling. “I wouldn’t say that.” Harry held out the letter, and Ron took it reading it, with his Mother reading over his shoulder. When they finished they both looked up at him with concern. Ron’s face was white as a sheet. “Who’s it from?” said a shaky Ron. Harry shrugged. He felt terrible. Mrs Weasley looked unnerved and uncomfortable. She was trying not to look at Harry. She turned and went back to the stove and the saucepan of soup. George and Fred were just finishing the letter and were looking at each other sternly. Harry had never heard The Burrow so silent. He wanted to apologise. He wanted to run away. He wanted to disappear. It was Ginny who broke the silence. “It’s ok now, though.” She looked around at the glum faces. “I mean he made a mistake, but he was upset and desperate. He’s safe now, and no one was hurt. People make mistakes.” Harry could have kissed her. But he knew that it wasn’t as simple as that. “Thank you, Ginny. But this means Vold…You-Know-Who knows where I am. He knows I’m here…with you.” Mrs Weasley banged a saucepan and Ron looked away. Ginny fell silent and sniffed. It could have started raining right there in the kitchen and none of them would have noticed. Harry looked at the floor. He’d put the lives of his best friend and his family, the family that always took him in and treated him like kin, in mortal danger. Ron was the next to speak. “I better write to Hermione. Tell her not to bother coming.” His voice was cold and Harry felt like crying. He could feel it. Nearly fifteen and he was about to burst into tears. He turned on his heel and fled up the stairs. He didn’t know how long he’d slept. He’d cried himself to sleep, and when he woke it was dark and the house was still. The Weasley’s hadn’t woken him for dinner, and when he looked over at Ron’s bed he could see that he was fast asleep. Harry quietly slipped out of bed and tiptoed out of the door onto the landing. He could hear low voices from downstairs. It was Mr And Mrs Weasley. He moved closer to the top of the stairs and crouched low so he could make out some of the conversation. “…need to get him out of the house.” “Well what do you suggest? It won’t be easy.” “Ron will think of something. He’ll know what to say.” “And where do you intend he goes?” “I…I don’t know.” There was silence. Harry sighed deeply. Even Mr Weasley wanted him out of his house. He crept back to Ron’s room and silently pulled on his shoes. He was already dressed having fallen asleep fully clothed so he packed up his trunk and began moving it to the window. Hedwig watched him closely, finally catching on and flew out of the window and onto the roof to wait for him. He was reaching for his broom when he heard movement behind him. “So you’re just going to run away?” he turned, expecting the whisper to have come from Ron. “Ginny? What are you doing in here?” he whispered back in a panic. “I saw you on the landing” she began “You can’t run away, Harry. He’ll find you if you do.” “And if I stay here he’ll kill all of you as well.” Ginny looked flustered. In the shadows of the room he realised how tall she’d become. She was barely three inches shorter then he was. “But. Harry…you can’t.” her voice wavered and he suddenly realised she was silently crying. “Hush, Ginny.” He began gently. Ron stirred slightly. “You’ll wake Ron.” She looked fiercely at him, and he was taken aback. She always seemed so quiet and timid, but this girl was furious. “Good!” she bit back “Maybe he can knock some sense into you.” Her voice was slightly louder and Ron stirred again. Harry moved his fingers to his lips and motioned for her to hush again. She stepped closer and whispered again. “He won’t come here, Harry. He only sent the Death eaters to attack the bus because he knew you were alone. You’re protected here. We protect you.” She was pleading with him now. Harry shook his head sadly. “Ginny, even your Dad wants me out of the house. Those were his exact words. ‘…get him out of the house’.” He could see her frown. “Dad would never say that.” “Well he did.” Said Harry firmly. “I heard him. So I’m going now to save him the embarrassment of asking me to leave.” He moved towards the window but she grasped his arm and pulled him back. “Please, Harry.” She was begging, fresh tears in her eyes. “What’s going on?” a loud voice came from behind them. The both spun around to see Ron wide-awake and sitting up in bed. He looked from Ginny to Harry and back again. Getting out of bed with a strange expression on his face, he suddenly saw the trunk by the window and the broomstick in Harry’s hand. “It’s nothing, Ron…” began Ginny, knowing it was pointless. “You’re leaving?” Ron yelled at him angrily? “Just going to run away? Just like that? What is it with you?” Harry and Ginny tried to hush him, but it was too late. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and the door was flung open. Mr And Mrs Weasley appeared in the room looking worried and confused. “What’s going on?” demanded Mr Weasley. “That’s what I want to know.” Thundered Ron. “He’s running away again.” Mrs Weasley gasped and ran to Harry’s side. “What? What’s this all about, Harry?” Mr Weasley demanded again. “I…I…” Harry stammered. “Ginny what on earth are you doing in here?” asked an astonished and upset Mrs Weasley. By now Fred, George and Percy had appeared. “I was trying to make him stay. He said he’d heard Dad say he wanted Harry to leave. But it’s not true is it? Is it, Dad?” She was sniffing a little. “Of course not, what’s all this, boy?” Mr Weasley looked hurt and confused at Harry. Harry felt uncomfortable. “I heard you. Just now. You said you wanted me out of the house.” A couple of tears were welling in his eyes now, as Ginny sniffed back her own. He noticed he was shivering now, and was still clinging to his arm. Mr And Mrs Weasley looked at each other, relief flooding over their faces. “Oh, Harry, you silly thing.” Smiled Mrs Weasley. Ron seemed to suddenly understand what was going on and Ginny stopped shivering. George and Fred were sniggering by the door, and Percy looked annoyed to have been gotten up over nothing. Harry however was confused. “Harry, we don’t want you to leave.” Said Ron, smiling. “Of course we don’t. What kind of family would we be if we did?” added Mr Weasley and smiled. Family? Had Harry heard him correctly? Mr Weasley had referred to them all as Harry’s family. “Harry, dear, we think of you as a kind of adopted son.” Harry was in shock at Mrs Weasley’s words. “Well, kind of a distant Cousin, really.” Said George and Ron thumped him. “Then you want me to stay?” “Of we do old chap. It wouldn’t be summer without you, mate.” Chimed in Fred with a grin. “Besides, I got this today.” Mr Weasley produced a letter “It was delivered by that darn Kestrel that delivered the other one.” He added. He held out the letter to Harry, and Ron and Ginny gathered around, reading over his shoulders. Mr Weasley, Thank you for heeding my warning the other night. You undoubtedly saved the boy’s life. I believe he is staying with you now, and that your youngest son is his best friend. You are a good man Mr Weasley and I have a favour to ask. You would probably do this anyway out of the goodness of your heart, but I promise that your kindness shall be rewarded in the future. I simply ask that you keep the boy with you until he should return to Hogwarts. He is safe with you protected by both your presence and friendship and by a little magic of my own. The Dark Lord will not seek the boy with you, and when he returns to school he will be protected by the spells surrounding the grounds and the watchful eye of the headmaster and staff. I thank you in advance for you kindness, sir. And there the letter ended. No signature, no name at all. But after Ron and Ginny had finished reading and had exchanged confused but relaxed looks with their family, Harry had continued to stare at the letter. “What is it, Harry?” asked Ginny, who noticed first. Harry shook his head then turned to his trunk. He unlocked it and located the letter he had received with Hedwig’s return earlier that day. Opening it, he held it side by side with the letter Mr Weasley had received. Ginny and Ron moved closer to see what he was doing and Ginny's eyes widened in surprise. Ron and Harry looked at each other as if to say, ‘here we go again’. The handwriting of both letters was a perfect match. Last edited by Krysta; 05-13-2008 at 11:41 AM.