The weeks leading up to Christmas break passed in a flurry of activity. The new DA members were significantly ahead of Hermione’s target timeline and were now working on mastering the Patronus charm. What they would work on once they had mastered the charm was yet to be decided. In other news, the Gryffindor quidditch team managed to pull off another spectacular win devastating Ravenclaw three-hundred ten to ninety. Harry found savage joy in snatching the snitch right out from under Cho’s nose. She had left the field in quite a huff, much to his delight.
Less than a week later, Hermione relayed the wonderful news that Dean’s mother was taking him overseas for the whole of break. The thought of him and Ginny cooped up for two weeks without any interruptions from Dean kept Harry in high morale.
“This is yours,” Ron tossed an old trouser at Harry; they sat in their dorm room packing their trunks in the early morning hours before break officially started.
“I’m sure yours will turn up,” Harry assured Ron who was tearing through his closet yet again.
Harry’s eye caught a lump under Ron’s bed. When he bent to examine the lump, he found that it was just what Ron was looking for.
“They’re my best pair,” Ron informed him, holding up the rather battered looking pair of jeans. “Well, they’ll look better once they’ve been washed,” he said catching Harry’s doubtful look.
Once they had their trunks secure they went to the common room for a game of exploding snap. They were also able to play a few games of wizard’s chess before it was time to get ready for the train ride. Much to Harry’s delight, Tonks excused Hermione and Ron from their prefect duties for the ride home. They were able to spend all their time in his compartment playing games and talking. Not before long, they were pulling up to platform nine and three quarters.
“What are you two doing?” Hermione inquired as Ron and Harry began stacking their trunks so that they could take them out in one load. “You’ll never be able to carry them,” she forewarned. But they proved her wrong.
“Got it Harry?”
“Got it!”
“Right, team lift on three …one…two…” and all at once they lifted the trunks with more strength than Hermione knew they had.
“I understand,” Hermione mocked them, “You’re willing to put all your efforts into getting away from school, rather than studying for your NEWTS.”
“Exactly,” Ron answered flippantly.
As they were bringing their trunks down the train steps, they were spotted by the eagerly awaiting Mrs. Weasley. No sooner had they dropped their trunks than they were gathered into her arms for a bone-crushing hug. She let them go of them when Hermione jumped out of the train, in order to deliver a bear hug to her. Charlie and Tonks soon followed and were lovingly greeted by Mrs. Weasley. Harry scanned the crowd and spotted Ginny saying goodbye to Dean not too far away. He was certain that Mrs. Weasley would catch sight of her shortly, thereby forcing her to join them. His family would be complete very soon.
Squinting, he noticed Mafalda exiting the doors at the back of the train. She looked to be struggling with her trunk. He was in such good spirits, that he went to assist her without being asked. As he went to grab the handle of her trunk she hit his hand away.
“Geroff me, scarhead,” she hissed contemptuously.
“I was just…” Harry began.
“You heard her pothead,” Malfoy exclaimed, coming down the stairs and taking the other end of Mafalda’s trunk.
“Mind your business, Malfoy,” Harry warned softly.
“Just trying to be a do-gooder, I suppose?” Mafalda mocked him.
“Not going to win any fans here,” Malfoy laughed, roughly slamming his shoulder into Harry’s as he and Mafalda went off with her trunk to find her family.
Harry was of half a mind to go after Mafalda to let her know what he thought of her when suddenly he was jerked back by his collar.
“Ginny! Take it easy,” he said, massaging his neck.
“Have you lost your mind?” she scolded him in a angry whisper.
“I was only trying to help!” Harry said, his good mood dilapidating quickly.
“You were about to blow her cover, Potter! For goodness sake, think before you act!”
Harry realized the gravity of his actions. If Mafalda had not been rude with him, Malfoy would have become highly suspicious of her.
“Sorry,” he mumbled shamefully.
On the plus side, his stunt with Mafalda had put him at the center of Ginny’s radar. Until they reached the ministry cars waiting outside of the station for them, he was not allowed more than an arms length away from her. He was unsure whether she thought he was dim-witted enough to pull another stunt like the one he had just pulled or whether she was simply not willing to risk it, but he welcomed her attention all the same. She was fuming for the entire ride to the Burrow…he found she looked rather cute when she was angry.
Once they had arrived at their destination, they bid the stoic faced ministry drivers adieu and heaved their trunks into the Burrow. Much to their delight, they found that Fred and George had opted to spend Christmas break at the Burrow with them. Soon, they were to be found reminiscing while roasting marshmallows and drinking hot cocoa in the living room. With all the good cheer around her, Ginny stopped sulking, much to Harry’s relief.
“Remember the time Penelope dumped flour all over Percy’s head?” Fred asked George.
“Ah that Penelope,” George said affectionately, “not the girl to cross!”
“Whatever happened to Gabrielle?” Charlie asked.
“Oh she came to the shop two months ago to say she couldn’t date Fred anymore,” George replied.
“Why not?” Tonks inquired.
“Got a new boyfriend,” George told them in jovially.
“Who?” Harry asked, joining the conversation.
“Lee Jordan!” Fred readily supplied. They laughed raucously at poor Lee’s misfortune.
“Remember pépère?” Ginny asked them in apparent glee.
“May Percy’s shins never recover!” Ron cried out in delight.
“I finally found out what récidiver means,” Ginny remarked, ignoring her brother’s outburst.
“I thought it meant stop,” Hermione commented.
“That’s what the Delacour’s said whenever pépère hit one of us boys,” Harry said, remembering pépère’s attack on him when he arrived at the Burrow earlier that summer.
“That’s what the Delacour’s wanted us to think,” Ginny began enticingly.
“Well what does it mean?” Ron asked after Ginny’s pregnant pause.
“It means to repeat one’s action!” Tonks, Hermione, and Ginny burst into a rapture of giggles whereas the boys took great offense, swearing vengeance on the Delacour clan.
They continued to share funny anecdotes and memories but their cozy manner ended abruptly, when a panic-stricken Mr. Weasley burst into the Burrow.
“Where are the kids?” he screamed at Mrs. Weasley who was in the kitchen.
“They’re in the living room…Arthur what’s going on?” she asked as he pulled her into the living room.
“GO!” he bellowed at them in distress.
“Go where?” Charlie asked, sitting up in alarm.
“Grimmauld Place,” Ginny responded promptly, “We’re under attack.”
Harry had no doubt that she was utilizing her Volcen abilities and listening to Mr. Weasley’s thoughts.
“GO!”
This time it was Harry shouting as he pushed Ginny into the fire seconds after Mr. Weasley threw floo-powder into it. Hermione, Ron, and Harry followed soon after. Mrs. Weasley, Fred, and George apparated to Grimmauld Place once they ensured that Harry had gone.
“Where are the rest?” Harry asked Mrs. Weasley.
“Arthur, Charlie, and Tonks aren’t coming,” she answered.
“Are they trying to fight?” Ron bellowed in horror.
“I don’t know,” she replied, trying not to break into a fit of hysteria.
Harry took a hand-full of floo-powder and threw it into the fire. If there was going to be a fight, he was going to be there to help. He could not return to the Burrow, however, as the fire was stubbornly refusing to turn green.
“They must have closed the network connection,” Hermione said, taking note of his action.
Harry cursed himself for not being old enough to apparate.
“They’re not at the Burrow,” Ginny whispered.
Harry turned around to face her. “Where are they?”
“I’m not sure,” Mrs. Weasley replied giving Ginny a fleeting look, “they were apparating same time we were.”
After a moment’s thought, Harry realized that they had to be getting help from the Order and relaxed a bit. He took a second to appreciate what Ginny’s abilities really meant. Thanks to her, they were quick to get out of harms way. If they were still at the Burrow, any number of calamities could have befallen them. He looked to Fred and George who were anxiously pacing in front of the stove.
“I suppose you were assigned to protect us,” he stated rather than asked.
George looked slightly guilty, but Fred held his head up high. “If anyone wants to get to you, they’ll have to kill us first,” he responded earnestly.
Harry wished that Fred had not used the word ‘kill’ when Mrs. Weasley let out a strangled cry, though he valued their solemn oath.
They sat in worried silence waiting for a sign that their loved ones were alright. Time slowed down, the minutes that normally flew by dragged on for ages. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer reverberated loudly around them.
“Move!” Hermione shouted as a gust of wind swept through the room.
Harry unsheathed his wand, ready for whatever was to come. The rest followed suit. Spinning figures appeared at the top of the ceiling, slowing as they descended to the kitchen table. He made sure that he had a firm grip on his wand. The attackers had made a grave mistake; they were cloistered in the center of the kitchen. He, Hermione, and the Weasley’s had their assailants enclosed in a tight bubble, they were poised to attack.
“Don’t hurt us,” an anxious cry came from one of the new arrivals after they fell onto the kitchen table.
Harry waved his hand to stop the rest from attacking. He had recognized that voice…although how could it be?
“Uncle Vernon?”
His uncle uttered a feeble sob in response. Harry stood from his crouched position and surveyed the sight in front of him. The last five people he had ever expected to see at Grimmauld Place had arrived, looking as though devastation had befallen them. Mr. Prewett’s eyes were the size of saucers, his mouth agape in an expression of frozen shock. Mrs. Prewett was huddled up screaming into a handkerchief, a fit of spasms raking her body.
Vernon Dursley looked like a large purple walrus, he was blubbering incoherently like a frightened child. Aunt Petunia remained silent, completely stationary, staring off into space. What shocked Harry the most was the last of these five people. Dripping in blood, Dudley Dursley fell to the ground rocking back and forth at first slowly and then more swiftly. He continued this cycle without end; his arms wrapped in front of his chest around nothing more than air.
The awfulness of the grisly scene that lay before them had paralyzed everyone; but when his Aunt Petunia collapsed into unconsciousness, they speed into action. Harry grabbed her before she hit the ground, laying her down gently. Mrs. Weasley attempted to bring her to while Ron and Hermione tended to the Prewetts. Fred and George were attempting to siphon the blood from Dudley as he continued to rock back and forth. The smelling salts that Mrs. Weasley conjured worked their magic and his aunt opened her eyes, inhaling deeply.
Harry felt he was short staffed as he looked to his Uncle Vernon who was still wailing like a baby. A bit of time lapsed by before he realized that Ginny was not helping. He looked to where she had been standing before the Prewett’s and Dursley’s had arrived to see if he could find her. What he found staggered him. In an exact mock of Dudley, Ginny was clutching the air and rocking back and forth, first slowly and than more swiftly.