Phoenix Tears

Chapter 8: Dissipation

"Er, yes, I suppose it does. Would you like that?"

"Er, yeah." He didn't want to sound like Hermione, but the thought of returning to Hogwarts with his scant knowledge of Braille... he didn't even know how maths worked with Braille!

"We'll make sure that there's a connection to the Center as soon as we're able to secure both locations," Auror Bones promised.

Harry stood up and shook his staff from his holster to navigate to where their voices were coming from in the room.

The room was full of overstuffed chairs and shin-stabbing tables so the going was slow and the three of them had turned back to opening the trunk. There was a rattling of keys and scraping of metal as the keys were inserted into the lock.

Harry felt a bit put out, though he tried to soften his irritation as he asked, "so are you going to tell me anything else? What were you discussing before that you didn't want me to hear?"

"Oh, right. Sorry, Harry," Bill said, turning toward him and guiding him to a spot next to the trunk with a light touch on Harry's wrist. "We were just deciding how much to tell you about what we know about Black and his progress this way."

"Well, what do you know?"

"We know that he's being reckless and that's why we've been able to track him more easily these last couple of days... whereas before, we were having a really hard time getting any information on him."

Harry cocked his head toward the door as he heard Mrs. Weasley's boots echoing in the hallway toward them. She bustled in with a rattling tray of china apparently floating behind her, announcing brightly, "tea is served!" as it settled on the low table behind Harry.

"So, you're looking for our rune stones? The ones you need are in the seventh level of the trunk, Arthur... you need to turn the key one more time."

Harry heard the springs of the couch give way as she sat down and then muttered a charm that made the china start clinking as it moved around. He started when something brushed his hand and then jumped back as hot liquid soaked through the fabric near his ankle accompanied by the sound of breaking glass as the cup and saucer hit the floor.

"Oh, Harry! Forgive me, I should have warned you!" Mrs. Weasley gasped.

She muttered a few charms and his trouser leg warmed up, drying as the china knitted itself back together with a tinkling dissonance and grinding.

"Here, dear. A cup of tea."

Harry reached toward her and found the saucer. His fingers traced the smooth china, unable to find any evidence of the repair. He mused if it was now rainbow-hued.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said, feeling the heat in his cheeks cool as his embarrassment for knocking over the teacup dissipated. He took a sip and sighed as the hot sweetness and sharp tang flowed over his tongue. Mrs. Weasley did make a good cup of tea.

Harry turned his face in the direction where he thought Bill was and asked, "So, do you know why he's being reckless?"

Mrs. Weasley made a questioning hum and Harry realized that Bill wasn't where he thought he was.

"Bill?" he asked, projecting a bit louder.

"What's that?" Bill asked from the other side of the room. His voice came from up high, near the ceiling.

"Oh, Bill, is that really necessary?" Mrs. Weasley grumbled.

There was a soft thud that rumbled through the floorboards.

"What did you ask, Harry? Here you go, Pops." Bill was back near the trunk handing something to Mr. Weasley.

"I was asking about this Sirius Black bloke... why do you think he's being reckless now?" Harry ran his hand over the sleeping lump of Nio wishing the snake would wake up so that he could tell Harry what was going on.