The dream.
Shooting up out of bed, I ran down the stairs and to the boys' dormitory to see Neville bolting out of their room and down the stairs.
"Is Harry—?" I stopped him abruptly.
"H-He's ill... I'm going to get help," he muttered running away.
Pushing the door opened, I saw Harry leaning over his bed, throwing up, as Ron jumped out of the way. Seamus and Dean were muttering to each other, trying to figure out what was happening.
"I could hear you screaming from the girls' dorm," I said to them. "I reckon the whole tower is up– Is it your dream? The—"
"Ron's dad, Charlotte. We need to find out where he is — he's bleeding like mad — I was — it was a huge snake," Harry wiped his mouth on his pyjamas and was shaking uncontrollably.
Mr Weasley. Nagini. Department of Mysteries.
"Harry, I know, but you need to calm down—"
"No! I'm fine," he shook his head. "We need to s-save Ron's d-dad—"
Harry tried to get out of bed, but Ron pushed him back into it. I walked quietly over to him and rubbed his back.
"Lottie, please," he pleaded, breaking my heart.
There were footsteps coming down the hall and I heard Neville's voice.
"Over here, Professor..."
Professor McGonagall came hurrying into the dormitory in her tartan dressing gown, her glasses perched lopsidedly on the bridge of her bony nose. She gave me an odd look and walked over to Harry, who was trying to get up again.
"What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"
"It's Ron's dad," he said, sitting up again. "He's been attacked by a snake and it's serious, I saw it happen."
"What do you mean, you saw it happen?" said Professor McGonagall, her dark eyebrows contracting.
"I don't know... I was asleep and then I was there..."
"You mean you dreamed this?"
"No! I had a dream before and then this interrupted it. It was real, I didn't imagine it, Mr Weasley was asleep on the floor and he was attacked by a gigantic snake, there were loads of blood– Lottie, tell her..."
"Miss Harring, what do you know of this?" Professor McGonagall looked up at me through her lopsided spectacles.
"We need to go to Dumbledore immediately," I said seriously. Professor McGonagall took my word for it and told him to dress.
"Weasley, Harring, both of you ought to come too," said Professor McGonagall.
Ron passed me another one of his huge sweaters and placed his dressing-gown on as well. I was only wearing sweatpants and a short-sleeved tee-shirt, not enough for the cold corridor. We followed Professor McGonagall past the silent figures of Neville, Dean, and Seamus, out of the dormitory, down the spiral stairs into the common room, through the portrait hole, and off along the Fat Lady's moonlit corridor.
"Fizzing Whizbee," said Professor McGonagall as we approached the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office.
Professor McGonagall rapped three times with the griffin knocker, and the voices ceased abruptly as though someone had switched them all off. The door opened of its own accord and Professor McGonagallled the three of us inside.
"Oh, it's you, Professor McGonagall... and... ah."
Dumbledore was sitting in a high-backed chair behind his desk; he leaned forward into the pool of candlelight illuminating the papers laid out before him.
"Professor Dumbledore, Potter has had a... well, a nightmare," said Professor McGonagall. "He says..."
"It wasn't a nightmare," said Harry quickly. "Lottie, tell him!"
Professor McGonagall looked around at Harry and gave me a slight frowning.
"Harry's vision is real," I nodded.
"Very well, then. Potter, you tell the headmaster about it."
"I was asleep," Harry started, "but it wasn't an ordinary dream... it was real... I saw it happen... Ron's dad —Mr. Weasley — has been attacked by a giant snake."
"How did you see this?" Dumbledore asked quietly, looking at me for confirmation.
"Inside my head, I supposed—"
"You misunderstand me," said Dumbledore, still in the same calm tone. "I mean... can you remember — er — where you were positioned as you watched this attack happen? Were you perhaps standing beside the victim, or else looking down on the scene from above?"
"I was the snake," he said. "I saw it all from the snake's point of view..."
Nobody else spoke for a moment, then Dumbledore, now looking at Ron, who was still whey-faced, said in a new and sharper voice, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"
"Yes," said Harry and I together.
Dumbledore set off instructions to old Hogwarts Headmaster's portraits to alert the right people in hopes of getting to Mr Weasley in time. Harry looked inpatient whereas Ron looked afraid; Dumbledore was now stroking Fawkes's plumed golden head with one finger. The phoenix awoke immediately. He stretched his beautiful head high and observed Dumbledore through bright, dark eyes.
"We will need," said Dumbledore very quietly to the bird, "a warning."
There was a flash of fire and the phoenix had gone.
Dumbledore strode around the room, fiddling with instruments and looking around his office while Harry twiddled his thumbs in anxiety.
"Harry..." I whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Will they find him in time?" his eyes twinkled with sadness and fear as he leaned into my touch.
"Yes," I reassured him. Looking over at Ron, his eyes were trained on Dumbledore who paced from one device to the other. "A-And hopefully because I cut some time, he won't be as bad as he was supposed to be. . ."
"Dumbledore!" one of the portrait wizards, Everard, had reappeared, panting slightly.
"What news?" said Dumbledore at once.
"I yelled until someone came running," said the wizard, who was mopping his brow on the curtain behind him, "said I'd heard something moving downstairs — they weren't sure whether to believe me but went down to check — you know there are no portraits down there to watch from. Anyway, they carried him up a few minutes later. He doesn't look good, he's covered in blood, I ran along to Elfrida Cragg's portrait to get a good view as they left—"
"Good," said Dumbledore as Ron made a convulsive movement, "I take it Dilys will have seen him arrive, then —"
And moments later, the silver-ringletted witch had reappeared in her picture too; she sank, coughing, into her armchair and said, "Yes, they've taken him to St. Mungo's, Dumbledore... They carried him past under my portrait... He looks bad..."
"Thank you," said Dumbledore. He looked around at Professor McGonagall." Minerva, I need you to go and wake the other Weasley children."
"Of course..."
Professor McGonagall got up and moved swiftly to the door; I gave a sideways glance at Ron, who was now looking terrified; Harry looked as he did before, sad and scared.
"And Dumbledore — what about Molly?" said Professor McGonagall, pausing at the door.
"That will be a job for Fawkes when he has finished keeping a lookout for anybody approaching," said Dumbledore. "But she may already know... that excellent clock of hers..."
Within minutes, Fred, George, and Ginny were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall; all three of them looked dishevelled and shocked, still in their nightclothes.
"Harry — what's going on?" asked Ginny, who looked frightened. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt —"
"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," said Dumbledore before Harry could speak. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back— all six of you— to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."
There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.
"It is Fawkes's warning," said Dumbledore, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds... Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story —"
Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan.
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry, me, and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us..."
"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, except me.
"I haven't," I said.
"Hold on to the kettle and hold one of their hands," Dumbledore instructed me. "And do not let go until they tell you." I gave a quick nod and reaching out to touch the blackened kettle, while Harry laced his fingers in mine. "Good. On the count of three; one... two..."
It happened in a fraction of a second: In the minuscule pause before Dumbledore said "three," I looked up at him — he and Harry were very close together — and Dumbledore's clear blue gaze moved from the Portkey to Harry.
"...three."
I felt a powerful jerk behind my navel, the ground vanished from beneath my feet, my hand was glued to the kettle while my other was clamped around Harry's hand; I was banging into the others as we all sped forward in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling us onward and then —
My feet hit the ground so hard that my knees buckled, causing me to grab ahold of Harry's shoulder; the kettle clattered to the ground and somewhere close at hand a voice said, "Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying...?"
"OUT!" roared a second voice.
Scrambling to my feet, I looked around; we had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. Sirius was hurrying toward the mall, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him.
"What's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured —"
"Ask Harry," said Fred.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.
The twins and Ginny were staring at him. Kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.
"It was—" Harry began. "I had a — a kind of — vision..."
And he told them all that he had seen. Ron, who was still very white, gave him a fleeting look but did not speak. When Harry had finished, Fred, George, and Ginny continued to stare at him for a moment. Harry did not know whether he was imagining it or not, but he fancied there was something accusatory in their looks.
"Is Mum here?" said Fred, turning to Sirius.
"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," said Sirius.
"The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."
"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," said Ginny urgently.
"You can't," I blurted, "not yet."
" 'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," said Fred, with a stubborn expression, "he's our dad!"
"I understand you want to go, but you can't just yet," I sighed.
"Why not?" Ron asked.
"How are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?" Sirius helped me.
"What does that matter?" said George hotly.
"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away!" said Sirius angrily. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's —"
"We don't care about the dumb Order!" shouted Fred.
"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" yelled George.
"Guys! Your dad is fine," I shouted over them.
"How do you know?" George narrowed his eyes at me. "Oh wait, of course you know! You knew what would happen but you didn't warn anyone— You say you want to help, but don't give any information."
"George, I—"
"No! He's right, you cry about wanting to help but not being able to– then when the time comes, where it doesn't pertain to you, you say nothing," Ron stalked over to me. "You knew what was going to happen, you just don't care!"
"I just forgot!" I admitted. "So many people, too many events, things change because of me, I forgot."
"Nah, you were too busy snogging Malfoy to help."
My face drained from colour at his words. I felt horrible, more sad than angry, and I knew it was because they were all upset about their dad.
"Well," I whispered, "in a little bit, a letter from your mother will come saying your dad is alive and well; she'll come here, tomorrow and Christmas everyone will go to St. Mungo's to see Mr Weasley."
It felt like hours until there was any information. A burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of us and as we gave cries of shock, a scroll of parchment fell with a thud onto the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.
"Fawkes!" said Sirius at once, snatching up the parchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must be a message from your mother —"
Ron gave me a sideways glance at Sirius's words as if he didn't believe me the first time I said they'd get a letter. Sirius trusted the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read it to everyone, "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum."
George looked around the table.
"Still ..." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound... Lottie, you were right."
I simply nodded as we waited once more. Nearly everyone drifted off while I just stared into the fireplace feeling utterly useless. And then, at ten past five in the morning by the wall clock, the kitchen door swung open and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but we all turned to look at her, Fred, Ron, and Harry half-rising from their chairs, while I stayed in my seat looking up. She gave us a wan smile and waved us off.
"He's going to be all right," she said, her voice weak with tiredness. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."
Fred fell back into his chair with his hands over his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother, and hugged her. Ron gave a very shaky laugh and downed the rest of his butterbeer in one. Harry and I nodded at each other in relief and understanding.
Just as Harry and I walked into the kitchen to help make breakfast, not wanting to intrude, Mrs Weasley called him over.
"Go," I pushed him and walked into the kitchen to start helping Sirius.
After a few moments, Harry came back into the kitchen and pulled me aside.
"Everything okay?" I asked.
"Is everything really okay with Mr Weasley?" he ran his hand through his hair.
"Yeah, it's like I said: the letter, Mrs Weasley, and tomorrow plus Christmas we'll go to St—"
"You didn't just say that to calm them down?" Harry speculated.
"No," I shook my head, "of course not. I wouldn't lie about something that dire."
"Was it me?" Harry mumbled softly. "I–In my vision-dream, I saw everything through my eyes, l-like the snake. Was I the—"
"No. Harry, you saw it because it's Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Since you're connected to him because of—" I pointed to the space above my eyebrow, "—you saw what Voldemort saw through Nagini's eyes."
"S-so I didn't do that to—"
"Of course not, Harry. You're not evil, you're not Voldemort– even if you do share a small characteristic of his."
"Like being able to feel when he's around and Parseltongue?"
"Yes," I gave him a sad smile.
Rubbing his arm, I reassured him and turned back to finish helping Sirius, who had disappeared, with breakfast.
"Lottie?" Harry asked from beside me.
I hummed turning to him, "yes?"
"Why can you speak Parseltongue?"
His question unnerved me, causing me to flip the pancakes too hard and caused it to make a mess all over the stovetop. Quickly, I grabbed a rag and cleaned up my mess.
"No, I don't," I wiped the stovetop down.
"Back in October, at Hogsmeade, you were angry at Ron and—"
"I remember when Hermione accused me of speaking it, but she lied. There's no way I could speak Parseltongue, I'm not a witch, more or less a Slytherin heiress," I snapped.
The thought of that made my heart race. I am a muggle, I tried to convince myself. There's no way could I speak Parseltongue.
"After you left, Hermione and Ron told me that when you yelled at Ron and I called your name and you responded, we had both spoke it."
"That's impossible," I scoffed plating the pancakes.
"Maybe—" Harry lowered his voice, stepping closer to me as if people would hear us in the empty room. "Last year, on the train back to King's Cross, you grabbed Hermione's wand and threw the Stunning Jinx at Malfoy—"
"It didn't work," I cut him off. "It only threw sparks. Wands are enchanted items, they do that even if—"
"And you can see Hogwarts; Hermione says that muggles can't see magical places like Hogwarts or the Knight Bus," Harry continued.
"Drop it," I said, turning away from him.
"Maybe you are a witch and not a muggle! You said you were adopted, right—?"
"Harry," I warned.
"You could come from a wizarding family, even a Slytherin wizarding family. Have you ever used a real wand—"
"Harry."
"—and tried to cast a spell? It might work! If you never tried, you'll—"
"Harry, drop it."
"—never know! Come on, we can– maybe you can try something and help us with—"
"HARRY, I SAID DROP IT!" I screamed.
"—D.A...." his voice dropped.
My tone resonated in the room, shaking the glass cupboards and windows. The empty butterbeer bottles shook on the counter and Harry jumped back.
"What's wrong?"
The door flew open to reveal a concern faced by Mrs Weasley. Ready to attack, her wand was drawn and set her stance.
"N-nothing, Mrs Weasley," I huffed, turning away from Harry and walking towards her. "Just a little disagreement."
"Are you alright, dear? You're red in the face and. . . shaking," she noticed.
I hadn't even noticed. I had been trying to distract myself with cooking that I hadn't realized the familiar hot power starting radiating through me. My hands itched with rage as I wiped them on my sweats, trying to get rid of the feeling.
"Yes, ma'am. I guess he really pissed me off," I laughed lightly, trying to comfort Mrs Weasley.
Passing her, she gave me a quick hug, brushing her hand down my hair, "I'm here if you ever need to talk."
Mrs Weasley gave me a teary-eyed smile and rubbed my arm before letting me go. In the living room sat the Weasleys and Sirius.
"You may need to talk to your godson," I mumbled to Sirius. "I think he needs to tell you something."
Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny looked at me as I passed them. George and Ron looked upset with me, as they did before they had fallen asleep, while Fred looked concerned. Ginny gave me a small smile and stood up to walk with me.
"You alright? I heard you yell at Harry," she asked.
"Just a stupid argument. You know how these boys are," I laughed dryly and gave her a little smile. "I'm tired, I think I'm going to take a nap, yeah?"
"I'll wake you up when we're gon' go, okay?"
"Thanks, Ginny, you're the best," I gave her a quick hug and ran up the stairs towards my empty room.