Rory Potter, the Girl Who Lived

Saving Harry (Again)

          "Rory! Ron!" Harry breathes, shoving the window open so we can talk though the bars. "What are you doing here?"
         "Rescuing you, of course!" Ron says. "You hadn't written to any of us, so Rory bullied us into going to see if you were alright."
​​​​​​          "Stand back, Harry," George says, passing Fred a hook, which he attaches to the bars on Harry's window. George puts the Weasley's flying Ford Anglia in reverse and the bars pull off with a nasty crunching noise. A moment later, George parallel parks the car against the window, and Fred clambers through it. Then he turns around and helps me into Harry's room.
          "Harry!" I squeal quietly, throwing my arms around him.
          "You two can have your reunion later, come on Rory, let's go get his trunk," Fred says. Harry nods and grabs what things are in his room, whispering, "Watch out for the bottom stair, it creaks."
          I grab Fred's hand as we creep through the dark house. When we reach the right cupboard, Fred picks the lock with a hairpin. He hands it to me and pulls Harry's trunk out. We push and shove it up the stairs (by we I mean mostly Fred) until we get back to Harry's room. Harry and Fred toss the trunk in the car, then Fred gets back in. He grabs my arms to keep me from falling as I get into the car as well. Unfortunately, to keep room open, I have to share the magically expanded front seat with Fred.
          Just after Harry gets in the car, a screech sounds from the room. It's Harry's snowy owl, Hedwig.
          "Hedwig!" Harry yells. "I've forgotten her!"
          I quickly channel energy into my necklace, which glows pink. 
          "Accio Hedwig!" I screech. The cage with the owl in it shoots through the air and lands in my lap. I hand it to Harry, who looks at me funny.
          "Thanks," he says.
          "No problem. And no, it's not underage magic, it's the necklace. It's not logged with the Ministry, so I can do as much magic as I want without them knowing," I say, blinking fast to clear my vision. "But of does drain my energy rather quickly."
          "Not surprising. You're the only second year I know who is able to perform a summoning charm. Probably the only second year who even knows that it is," Fred says. "You should be more careful, Rory. If you lose too much energy, you'll black out like you did in that chamber last year."
          "I'm fine, Fred," I say sternly, but on the way back, I end up falling alseep on his shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Beds empty! No note! Car gone - could have crashed - out of my mind with worry - did you care? - never, as long as I've lived - you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this from Bill or Charlie or Percy - "
          I wake up in someones arms, but at hearing Mrs Weasley's angry voice, I decide to pretend I'm still blacked out.
          "Prefect Percy," Fred mutters. That's when I realize who's arms I'm in. Fred's. Oh, Merlin, help me!
          "YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!!" screeches Mrs Weasley, scaring the shit out of me. With a scream, I flail and fall out of Fred's arms onto the grass.
          "Sorry, Rory dear, didn't mean to scare you. I suppose the boys dragged you along," she says, then continues shouting herself hoarse at Fred, George and Ron. After about half an hour, she turns to Harry and I, saying, "Pleased to see you, Harry. Come in, you and Rory can have breakfast."
          Ron gives us encouraging smiles and I grab Harry to follow Mrs Weasley inside. The kitchen is rather cramped. There is a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle, and I sit next to Harry. He looks at the house while I sit there, feeling just a bit guilty.
          Mrs Weasley is clattering around, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at Ron and the twins as she throws sausages in the frying pan and muttering under her breath.
​​​​          "Do you need any help, Mrs Weasley?" I ask tentively.
          "Oh, I'm alright, Rory dear. Just a little angry. Of course, I don't blame either of you," she says, tipping about eight sausages onto our plates. Then she picks mine back up again, saying, "Sorry dear, I forgot you were vegetarian."
          "Its okay. Happens a lot," I smile. She ignores me and turns to her sons.
          "What on earth were you thinking!? Flying an illegal car halfway across the country, anyone could have seen you!"
          "It was cloudy, Mum!" says Fred.
          "You keep your mouth closed while you're eating!" Mrs Weasley snaps.
          "They were starving him, Mum!" George adds.
          "And you!" says Mrs Weasley, but her expression softens as she looks at me. "Do you want any fruit instead, dear?"
         "Yes please," I say. She hands me a basket of assorted fruits, but at that moment Ginny appears, wearing a long nightdress. She notices me and waves, grinning, but then she notices Harry. She gives a small squeak and runs out.
          "Ginny," says Ron in an undertone to Harry. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."
          "Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred says with a grin, but he catches his mother's eye and bends over his breakfast without another word. I give him a pitying look. Nothing more is said until breakfast is over, at which point Fred yawns and says, "Blimey, I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed and - "
          "You will not!" she says. "You three will de-gnome the garden for me; they're getting out of hand again. Rory, Harry, you two may go to bed if you wish."
         "Oh, no, I'll help. I feel like I'm just extra space right now, I've got nothing to do, and I find de-gnoming fun," I tell her.
          "Let's see what Lockhart's got to say on it . . . " Mrs Weasley says, pulling out a large book.
          George groans, "Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden - "
          "Oh, he's marvelous!" she beams, ignoring George's comment. "Knows his household pests, that man does, its a wonderful book . . . "
          "Mum fancies him," whispers Fred loudly. Mrs Weasley blushes and snaps, "Well, go on! Get to work!"
          Harry tags along as well. When we reach the garden, Fred and George explain how to properly de-gnome a garden while Ron and I get to work. We have a competition to see how far we can throw them, and I manage to accidentally throw one against a street sign about seventy feet away.
          "Oh my Merlin, what if I've killed it!?" I squeal, feeling sorry for the poor gnome, which is now laying facedown on the side of the road.
          "It'll be fine, they're tough," Fred soothes. I cast one last glance at the motionless gnome and grab another one. This time, I throw it away from the sign. But I suppose, as there's about a hundred gnomes, one won't make a difference.

~~~~~~~~~~

After the gnomes are all gone, we head back inside to hear Mr Weasley telling Mrs Weasley about his day. He mentions people enchanting Muggle objects, and Mrs Weasley brandishes her stove poker like a sword.
          "LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE!?"
          "C-cars, Molly, dear?" Mr Weasley stammers guiltily.
          "Your sons flew that car to Harry Potter's house and back last night!" shouts Mrs Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"
          Mr Weasley notices us, and says eagerly, "Did you really? Did it go alright? I - I mean," he falters as Mrs Weasley threatens to explode. "that - that was very wrong, boys - very wrong indeed . . . "
          I grab Fred and George's​ elbows and start to back slowly out of the room, pulling them with me. Harry and Ron quickly follow, and the three of us (Fred and George left to go to their room) flee to Ron's room on the top floor of the Burrow.
          "Your Quidditch team?" Harry asks Ron, indicating his bright orange bedspread and posters plastered to the wall, their inhabitants waving cheerily at us.
          "The Chudley Cannons," Ron says proudly. "Ninth in the league."
          "Ron, you need to tidy your room," I say, pushing several rolls of parchment off the chair so I can sit.
         "It is tidy!" Ron says indignantly.
         "It may not be tidy, but this is the best room I've ever been in," Harry says. "No, not best room. Best house."
         Ron's ears turn pink.