Anthophile (PJO x HP) 🌸WTM/RTB

4

"Aww... Your reaction's so cute," Annabeth cooed lightly as she laughed to Harry who blushed slightly.

"You see? It's quite easy, dear. Don't be afraid. Come on, come on. In you go. That's it. Mind your head," Molly advised. "That's right. Now, take your Floo powder. That's it very good. Now, don't forget to speak very, very clearly."

Harry followed Molly's words and did exactly as what Ron had done earlier. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash. Then, he shouted with a cough, "D-diagonally!" He vanished from the fireplace.

James whined loudly and most of the audience agreed with his annoyance.

"Dude! C'mon man!" Percy looked at the screen in shock before laughing along with Grover.

"You had one job! One freaking job... Oh Salazar!" Regulus facepalmed hard with his friends snickering at him. 

"Oh, for Gods' sake, Harry! That's why Molly said to 'speak very, very clearly for a reason!" Annabeth said in exasperation and placing her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry, okay..." Harry grumbled. "The soot went in my nose and mouth..."

"What did he say, dear?" Molly asked her husband with a confused look.

"Diagonally," Arthur responded.

"I thought he did..."

~

With Harry...

Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, Harry got gingerly to his feet, holding his broken glasses up to his eyes. He was quite alone, but where he was, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop – but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.

"Ah, crap. Should've known," Sirius groaned in his seat.

"Wait, hold on! Is that--!" Orion said as he squinted his eyes at the screen.

"That's not good," Andromeda sighed, placing a hand on her mouth.

Many didn't realize it yet, but they knew that it was not Diagon Alley at all.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack of cards and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks leered down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. Even worse, the dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley.

Many of the older Pureblood wizards gaped at the screen, realizing where the Potter boy was at.

"That's Borgins and Burkes," Bellatrix blinked at the screen with her brows creased.

"Oi. You do not belong there at all, Potter!" Barty exclaimed to Harry.

"Out of all places! Why there!?" James grumbled as he leaned against his worried looking girlfriend and sleeping future grandson.

The sooner he got out of there, the better. Nose still stinging where it had hit the hearth, Harry made his way swiftly and silently towards the door, but before he'd got halfway towards it, two people appeared on the other side of the glass – and one of them was the very last person Harry wanted to meet when he was lost, covered in soot and wearing broken glasses: Draco Malfoy.

Draco raised a brow and looked at Harry at the corner of his eyes before ignoring it and continued watching.

"What are you doing there, son?" Narcissa asked her son who was sitting next to her.