December arrived with a beautiful blanket of snow. Fred and George kept themselves busy by working on their products and skiving on classes and homework. Somehow, classes seemed to have grown more boring that year. Especially, Umbridge's. Each day, they sat and read. It was utterly dreadful.
Thankfully, they now had the D.A. to look forward to. Harry was a pretty good teacher, far better than Umbridge. Some spells, like the Stunning Spells, Fred and George already knew pretty well- the drawback of being seventh years in a class with fourth years.
But working with Hermione was amazing. Each class, without fail, they would partner together. She was a good partner, she pushed him to be better, to do better each time. "Fred," she said in an irritated voice, her arms were crossed over her chest. "We're supposed to be practicing casting and blocking the Stunning Spell."
"Yes," he simply said.
"Then, why did you glue my feet to the floor?"
"Hermione," he said, "if you had blocked it like you were supposed to, then you'd have never known I'd used the Sticking Charm." She shook her head at him, trying to look more irritated than she really felt.
"Release me, please."
Before Fred could reply, Harry called attention to himself. "Good job, everyone. This will be our last meeting before the winter holidays. So, just keep practicing as best you can and we'll meet again after the holidays. Really, great job everyone."
With that, the group began to disperse. Fred began to make his way over to where George was standing. He and George had some ideas they wanted to run by Harry. "Fred! Fred!" Hermione called after him. She was still struggling against the charm he had cast on her.
"You know," he said, laughing, "some would say you're stuck on me." She didn't seem to appreciate the joke.
"Fred," she said. Sighing, he cancelled the spell.
"Better?"
"Much," she answered. While Hermione went to gather her things, Fred and George went to talk to Harry. He seemed distracted for some reason.
"We've been thinking, Harry," said Fred. "We could slip some Puking Pastilles into Umbridge's tea."
"Or some fever fudge-" continued George.
"Sounds great, guys," Harry interrupted. "Would you excuse me?" Frowning, Fred and George watched Harry nervously walk over to where Cho Chang was standing, looking at a picture. No wonder the guy was distracted.
"He's been staring at her all night," Hermione said as she, Fred, George, and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower.
"Maybe he'll finally make a move," Fred remarked, only to see George smirk at the irony.
"What were you telling Harry about?" Ron asked, somewhat annoyed he hadn't been included in the conversation yet.
"We're going to put something in Umbridge's tea," George replied.
"That's a-" Hermione began.
"-Fantastic idea," Fred finished for her with a wink. "Thanks, Granger. We agree." Ron and George chuckled at that.
"You'll get into trouble," Hermione warned them pointedly.
"You know, Granger has a point," George said, each word dripping with sarcasm. "We'll get into trouble. We'll have to live our lives wondering what Umbridge drinking her tea with a Puking Pastille would be like." He shook his head for emphasis.
"But at least we'll be able to rest peacefully with the knowledge that we did not break any school rules," Fred added. Hermione glared at them.
"Fine. Mock me. Just don't come crying to me when you have detention," Hermione said. Fred quieted, thinking about what detention with Umbridge entailed. Absentmindedly, he rubbed his hand that had "I must not cause trouble" etched in.
They sat quietly together in the Common Room while they waited for Harry to return. Hermione, in the meantime, began composing a rather long letter to someone. Ron was trying to finish his Transfiguration homework while Fred and George spoke quietly about their plan to drop Puking Pastilles in Umbridge's tea. If they timed it right, they might be able to make her cancel classes the following day.
Finally, Harry sauntered into the room. He looked dazed, like he wasn't quite sure of his surroundings. The moment they saw him, Fred and George began clapping for the fifth year. "Well done, Harry," George said, patting him on the back. Harry smiled at little.
"Is it Cho?" Hermione said in a very business-like manner. "Did she corner you after the meeting?" Ron sniggered while Fred and George both cracked smiles. Hermione knew what had happened, they all did. They just wanted to hear Harry say it.
"She-" Harry's voice was too dry and had to clear it twice before continuing. "She-er-"
"Did you kiss?" Hermione inquired while the boys around her laughed. Harry turned a shade of red that could have rivaled the Weasleys' hair.
"Way to go, Harry!" Fred cheered. George sniffed a little and pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes.
"They just grow up so fast," George said. "One day he's fighting You-Know-Who, the next he's off kissing girls."
"Well?" Ron said. "How was it?" Harry thought for a moment.
"Wet," he said finally. Ron made a noise that Fred guessed was supposed to be disgust. He had to agree with his little brother on that. "Because she was crying."
"Merlin, Harry," Fred said seriously. "You were really that bad?"
"Dunno," Harry answered. "Maybe I am."
"Of course you're not," Hermione interjected at once.
"How would you know, Granger?" Fred wanted to know, jealousy surging through him.
"Because Cho spends half her time crying these days," Hermione replied. Fred wasn't sure how this was related to how well Harry could kiss. "She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place."
"You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up," Ron said, grinning.
"Ron," Hermione said, "you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet."
"We agree," Fred and George said together.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron asked. "What sort of person cries while someone's kissing them?" Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes, probably wondering why she had to explain everything for them.
"Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?"
"No," Harry and Ron said together.
"Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings toward Harry are anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when he died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly."
"Dump her," Fred and George said together.
"A girl with that much going on, needs to work on herself," Fred continued, looking Harry in the eye.
"It won't end well if she's got that much going on," George advised.
"One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode," Ron said, as though he had not heard what Fred and George had said.
"Just because you've got the emotional rage of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have," Hermione stated. Fred and George laughed at that and began to make plans on calling Ron a teaspoon for the foreseeable future.
"Come on, Georgie," Fred said, standing up, "we should head on up. And you three should, too." Harry, Ron, and Hermione just shrugged and continued with their conversation.
As Fred and George made their way up to their dormitories, George turned to Fred and said, "You realize that Harry is getting more action than you?"
"Shut up, Forge," Fred muttered, causing George to burst into laughter.
-----
Arthur Weasley did not worry as much as his wife over things. Certainly, he did worry. He worried about the coming war and the Order of the Phoenix. He worried about his expenses and providing for his family. He worried for his family, his wife, his kids, and Harry. Those days, he worried most for Percy. His son was stubborn, and refused to see the truth. He had given his son everything he could, and the boy had turned his back on them. Arthur sighed and wiped his face with his hands tiredly. He loved his son, but Percy was making it hard at that moment.
He was feeling tired that night. He didn't expect anything to happen that night. In fact, he was hoping that nothing would happen so he could just go home and sleep for a little while. He wondered if Molly was up, worrying about him. He told her repeatedly not to wait up for him, but she never listened. Sometimes, she would just sit and stare at that clock until he was home. She was scared for this war and everything it would entail. He understood.
Oh, he was so tired. Perhaps, if he sat down for just a moment, just rest for a just a moment he would have the energy to go for the rest of the night. He had promised Mad-Eye and the others he would do this and he knew how important it was. Maybe next time, he would ask for a shift that wasn't right after work. He didn't have the energy for this. He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. His chin started drooping onto his chest and he couldn't manage to pull it back up.
Just as he was starting to fall asleep, the most unimaginable pain shot threw him. His eyes flew open to see a giant snake plunge it's poisonous teeth three times before he could think to raise his wand. Arthur yelled in pain, hoping that someone might hear him. He watched the evil snake slither away.
He called out again, but he knew it was no use. There was no one in that area of the Ministry. He knew that. But still, he yelled. He pressed his hands against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, but he knew it was no use. He fell against the floor, falling into the pile of his own blood.
His eyes closed. And before he passed out, Arthur worried about his life and if someone was going to find him.
-----
"Mr. Weasley! Mr. Weasley!" Fred must have fallen asleep in the middle of Transfiguration again. Although, he couldn't remember that last time his desk had felt this comfortable.
"Yeah, I'm...listening...Professor...George'll demonstrate..."
"MR. WEASLEY!" Fred's eyes shot open. He was right. It was McGonagall. But this was his dormitory. What was McGonagall doing here? Fred rubbed his eyes. Professor McGonagall only came up to the rooms if something serious had happened. What had Harry, Ron, and Hermione done now? He wondered for a moment. He glanced at George. His brother seemed as groggy as he was.
"Get dressed and come with me," she said gravely before disappearing. Immediately, Fred and George jumped out of bed and got dressed before heading down to the Common Room where McGonagall was waiting with Ginny.
"What's going on?" Fred wanted to know. "What's Ron done?"
"Nothing, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said. "Your brother is fine. But your father has been attacked."
"What?" Ginny said. Any lingering tiredness immediately vanished from Fred. His dad had been attacked. He must have been working for the Order, that's why he was up at this time of the night.
"Your brother and Mr. Potter are waiting in Professor Dumbledore's office. Come, we must hurry." There was no argument from them.
"Is Mum with him?" Ginny asked.
"Is he in Saint Mungo's?" Fred wanted to know.
"He is still at the Ministry," explained McGonagall. "We are trying to find him help."
"How do you know he was attacked, then?" George inquired.
"Mr. Potter saw him."
"How-"
"Hush, we must keep quiet," McGonagall said, mostly because she wasn't sure how to answer but also because they couldn't let Umbridge know what was happening. It was of vital importance.
The door to the Headmaster's office swung opened and they rushed in. Immediately, Ginny ran over to Harry. "Harry-what's going on?" she asked. Her voice betrayed her fright. "Professor McGonagall says you saw Dad hurt-"
"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore answered for Harry. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."
Suddenly, Fred felt like he couldn't breathe. Up to this point, he had been hoping this was all a nightmare. But it wasn't. His dad was dying as they spoke. He was going to the hospital, sure, but what if... He didn't want to think of the what if. He couldn't imagine his life without his father.
"How're we going?" Fred managed to ask. "Floo powder?"
"No," Dumbledore replied. "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He gestured to an old kettle lying on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back...I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you-" 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. Dumbledore caught the feather as it fell. "It is Fawkes's warning. She must know you're out of your beds...Minerva, go and head her off-tell her any story-" McGonagall was gone immediately.
"He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests. . . ."
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ." Together, they all grabbed the kettle. "On the count of three then...one...two...three..."