He reclined in the comfort of the high-backed leather armchair behind the desk, and observed his setting: a long, tall room, with spectacularly large windows, stretching almost right up to the high ceiling itself, beaming fake sunlight into the glorious office. As he congratulated himself on what he had achieved, a small, cowering man shuffled into the room.
“My Lord, some bad news,” he murmured.
“Bad news?” replied the Lord. “You know I don’t like bad news, Wormtail.”
Wormtail shuddered fretfully and took a few shaky steps back.
“Yes, my Lord, I know,” he stuttered, “but we knew that you must be informed.”
“Tell me now, Wormtail, before I really lose my patience.”
“Well, it’s the boy, my Lord,” said Wormtail hesitantly, now shaking frenziedly. “We didn’t manage to “ er “ to get him before “ before “ “
“Yes?”
Wormtail winced.
“ “ before he “ er “ disappeared,” he finished, with a terrified glance at his master.
“‘Disappeared’?” shrieked the Lord. “What do you mean ‘disappeared’?”
Wormtail was now trembling so badly that he looked as if he was doing some kind of strange hand jive.
“An incompetent follower did not keep track of the subject closely enough!” he cried in his meagre defence. “The boy was gone when we went to check on him!”
“How dare you call another ‘incompetent’?” screamed the Lord. “When you are just as much to blame as anyone else!”
Wormtail stuttered incoherently.
“Find the boy!” ordered the Lord. “Or so help you, Wormtail!”
Someone’s lips were kissing his. A blissfully familiar scent wafted over his face.
“Wake up, lazy bones!” she said cheerily.
He opened his sticky eyes and saw Ginny standing beside his bed, her bright red hair shining in the morning sun.
“Why are you so cheery?” he croaked.
“Am I not allowed to be cheerful?” she asked.
“No, carry on,” he told her, sitting up against his pillows.
Ginny grinned and danced away to the other side of the bed, where he could no longer see her because of the drapes.
“Where are the others?” asked Harry. “Having breakfast?”
“Preparing lunch, more like!” said Ginny’s voice from the opposite side of the room. “It’s midday, Harry!”
Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes, putting on his glasses blearily. Ginny’s head popped around the bedpost.
“What were you dreaming about, by the way?” she asked. “You seemed to be getting incredibly angry.”
“Oh, um “ “ stuttered Harry, trying and failing to think up a quick cover story.
“Very convincing, Harry,” said Ginny sarcastically. “Don’t worry “ I don’t want to know if you don’t want to tell me.”
“I’ll tell you later,” he promised her.
“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken,” said Hermione, as she and Ron came in carrying a plate of sandwiches. “Good sleep, Princess?”
“Ha ha,” muttered Harry. “Actually, I might as well tell you now, since you’re all here,” and he proceeded to explain his dream to them.
They listened intently as he narrated, and by the end, Hermione and Ginny were looking worried. Ron, however, merely frowned.
“So they’re looking for a boy?” he said to himself thoughtfully. Harry, Hermione and Ginny stared at him incredulously. “Hold on a minute…” Ron continued, light dawning in his eyes. “A boy… could it be “ no…”
“Get there faster!” said Harry.
Ron gasped as it finally hit him.
“There it is,” murmured Ginny.
“They were following you!” Ron cried victoriously.
“Well, probably, but we don’t know for sure,” said Hermione.
“Oh come on, Hermione!” said Ron. “What other ‘boy’ would old Voldy get so worked up about, huh?”
“He’s got a point, you know,” muttered Harry.
“Have we ever considered the fact that maybe it was just an ordinary dream?” asked Ginny. “That it was all just random stuff floating about in Harry’s subconscious.”
“No offence, Gin, but exactly how often does this sort of thing turn out to be ‘just an ordinary dream’?” asked Harry.
Ginny sighed.
“Oh I know, I know,” she said. “I just sometimes wish that we were ordinary people with ordinary worries.”
“Hate to break it to you, Ginny, bit I really can’t see that happening to me any time soon,” said Harry.
“Yes, well, maybe not that soon, but we’ll see what we can do,” said Hermione. “Now, you said they were in some sort of an office?”
“I suppose it was at the Ministry,” said Harry.
“Good point,” said Ron thoughtfully. “He’s probably settled himself into the Minister’s old office. It’s all very cushy for him right now, isn’t it?”
“He’s certainly well on his way to getting what he wants,” said Hermione gravely.
Harry’s stomach clenched, knowing that what Voldemort ultimately wanted was to take his life. He had been trying desperately to keep his mind off the Prophecy as much as possible, but every night it came back to him in some form or other, only to remind him of his fate and leave it in the back of his mind for the rest of the day.
“We should probably tell Dumbledore “ “
“No!” interrupted Harry. “I mean, no, I don’t want to bother him…”
“Harry, Voldemort’s having you followed!” cried Hermione. “We’ve got to let the Order know!”
“No, we don’t,” said Harry firmly. “We don’t need to tell them anything. They’ve got enough to be getting on with without me worrying them further.”
Hermione shrugged. “Whatever you want, Harry,” she sighed. “It’s not up to us.”
“Yes it is!” argued Ginny. “We have a right to tell you what we think and you have a responsibility to listen and to think about what we say!”
Her eyes were raging and she wasn’t blinking as she stared at them.
“Oh I do, do I?” thought Harry.
“Yes, you do,” she replied. “You can’t just keep it all to yourself without talking about it.”
“I told you about the nightmare, didn’t I?” thought Harry. He was angry that she was being so defiant about this; of course he shared things with them.
“Um,” said Ron, breaking the tense silence. Ginny had her face in her hands and was breathing heavily.
“Sorry,” thought Harry. “Just… calm down “ you’re getting all stressed and that’s not what we need.”
The door opened and in came Mrs Weasley, looking as flustered as she had done all holiday. It was not rare nowadays to see her hair unkempt and her face looking older than usual.
“Awake at last, I see,” she said to Harry, forcing an unconvincing smile. “I’ve got a job for you all to do. I need you downstairs in five minutes.”
Five minutes later Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were gathered in the kitchen, dressed and ready for a probable long and frustrating household task, which none of the Order had enough time to do.
“We’re going to need more things from home,” Mrs Weasley told them, wringing her pale hands together nervously. “You can travel by Floo. I want you in and out of there as quickly as possible. I’d go myself, but we’re just too busy.”
“We’re going home?” asked Ginny.
“Just to get some clothes and other essentials,” said Mrs Weasley. “But listen to me, Ginevra “ there’s to be no larking about whilst you’re there, and you’re to come straight back once you’ve finished.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “I mean it, Ginny!” cried Mrs Weasley. “Now, you’ve all got wands, I presume? Okay “ get as much as you can carry, and be careful. Off you go.”
Harry went first, taking a handful of Powder and yelling “The Burrow!”. A short, but dizzy, while later, he spun to a stop in the grate. Replacing his glasses, he looked out.
The old wooden table, which had once hosted so many spectacular homemade dinners, had been overturned, and one of its legs blown off. The front door was lying in a dishevelled mess on the floor in the doorframe, which was blackened and threatening to collapse at any moment.
Hearing someone arriving in the fireplace behind him, Harry’s first reaction was to prevent them from seeing the distressing scene that would meet them, and prayed that it would be Hermione rather than a Weasley. However, he was not so lucky. Ginny spun into view, coughing slightly from the ashes, and Harry immediately lurched forward to cover her eyes.
“Harry!” she cried, trying to pull his hands away from her face. “What on earth are you doing?”
“Go back,” he told her, “go straight back.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
Before he could answer, flames fired up in the fireplace again, and a whirling Hermione landed and stumbled onto the hearthrug. With one look at the bizarre sight of Ginny struggling against Harry, and the obvious signs of a break-in behind then, she understood. Harry gave her a pleading what-are-we-going-to-do look, but she simply returned it. After an excruciatingly long and confused pause, Ron appeared and stepped out.
For a moment, Harry stupidly considered shouting “I did it!”, but realised very quickly that it would be pointless. Ron stared at the empty doorframe, growing slowly paler as his eyes flicked to the table, then to the smashed plates and broken pots surrounding it.
Ginny was still desperately trying to resist Harry’s grip, and decided that it was about time that he gave up. He removed his hand from her eyes, and she blinked up at him.
“What was all that about?” she asked, then she looked behind him and saw the room. “Oh my “ “
“What’s happened?” whispered Ron.
“We should leave,” said Harry. “Now.”
He grabbed Ginny’s arm, but she pulled away, walking towards the door and inspecting the crime scene. She ran her hand down the empty doorframe, and a gentle breeze blew through it, as if the house was shuddering.
“Harry’s right, Ginny,” said Hermione. “We shouldn’t stick around here.”
“We’ve got to get our things, though,” said Ginny defiantly.
She started to walk towards the staircase, but Harry held her back.
“Don’t go up there,” he said firmly.
“Let go of me,” she muttered through gritted teeth.
Harry reluctantly loosened his grip, and she mounted the staircase and started to climb. The others followed warily, until they reached Ginny’s room which they entered after her.
Clothes, books and parchment littered the old, purple carpet. Photographs lay behind smashed frames, and jewellery had been carelessly pulled out of an old wooden box on the chest of drawers to be thrown onto the desk. Hermione let out a short gasp, but Ginny simply stood perfectly still, staring at her destroyed bedroom; then she suddenly dropped to her knees and started to scoop her things up in her arms, throwing them into a large wooden chest at the foot of the bed.
“Ginny, please,” begged Harry.
“There’s no point running out of fear, Harry,” she muttered, continuing to pile her stuff into the box. “That’s what they want.”
There was a clunk from above them somewhere, and Ginny froze.
“That’s it,” said Ron, who had gripped Hermione’s hand, “we’re going.”
“It was probably just the pipes,” said Ginny.
“No, we’re leaving,” said Harry sternly. “Come on.”
He grabbed her wrist, but she shook him off. There was another loud thud from above, followed by what was unmistakably a man’s voice. Harry didn’t have time to think; he wrenched Ginny off the floor and pulled her to the door, seeing her snatch something from the dresser as they left the room, but quickly forgetting about it.
A spell flashed past them as they leapt down the last few stairs, narrowly missing Harry’s cheek and almost hitting Ron in the back. Harry could hear hurried footsteps not far behind them, and, as they ran through the empty doorway and into the yard, he saw two robed figures appear at the bottom of the stairs. Clutching Ginny’s hand and shooting random spells over his shoulder, he came up with a spontaneous plan, and seized Hermione’s hand as well. He suddenly knew he could do what he wanted to do, and gripped on to the two girls’ hands as tightly as he could. It was a horrible sensation, but he could soon no longer hear the footsteps behind him.
He opened his eyes.
“Where the hell are we?” asked Ginny.
“Welcome to my bedroom,” answered Harry.
A/N: Sorry about the MASSIVE wait for this chapter. I had it ready a few weeks ago, but I have been soooo busy recently that I haven't had time to get it up here. I hope it was satisfactory though! You'll have to bear with me for the next update - it's all written but needs to be typed up. Please review! xxx hattiepotter xxx