Eurielle watched as rain splattered against the foggy glass panes of the empty classroom the four were currently sitting in. Harry and Ron talked excitedly of Angelina being able to reform the Quidditch team while Hermione, much like herself, was in deep thought- she wondered if it was about the same thing.
"Hope this clears up . . . What's up with you, Hermione?"
"Just thinking . . ." she said, still frowning at the rain-washed window just as Eurielle had been doing minutes prior,"About Siri . . . Snuffles?" said Harry.
" Well, sort of. . . Are we doing the right thing. . . I suppose we're doing the right thing . . . I think . . . aren't we?"
Eurielle nodded, " We are, but I know what you mean," she said looking at the brunette who nodded, a sad- almost apologetic- look in her eye.
The two boys looked at each other in confusion, " Well it'd be downright annoying if the two of you hadn't told us what you were going on about," said Ron with false gratitude.
Hermione looked at him as though she had only just realized he was there. "I- Well Eurielle and I it seems- were just wondering," she said, her voice stronger now, "whether we're doing the right thing, starting this Defense Against the Dark Arts group."
"What!" said Harry and Ron together looking at the girls incredulously, " Hermione this was your idea!" said Ron.
"I know," said Hermione, twisting her fingers together, looking over at Eurielle for support and continued after receiving a reassuring nod, "But after talking to Snuffles . . ."
"But he's all for it!" said Harry.
"Yes," said Hermione, staring at the window again. "Yes, that's what made me think maybe it wasn't a good idea after all. . . ."
The group fell silent and for a moment all that could be heard was the rhythmic taps on the panes. Eurielle glanced down at the desk, maybe it was time to tell Harry that Sirius isn't okay, and that he was so obviously depressed, much like Harry himself.
"Let's get this straight," said Harry angrily, "Sirius agrees with us, so you don't think we should do it anymore?"
Hermione stared at the table rather miserably before shaking her head, " I'm just wondering if it's a good idea now. . .Do you honestly trust his judgment?"
"Yes, I do!" said Harry at once. "He's always given us great advice!"
Before Hermione could choose her words carefully Eurielle spoke, " That was before Grimmauld Place," she said looking at the green eyed boy who was preparing to blow up at her too, " Before now he was more level-headed, more of an adult but now . . . it's like he's living through us,"
"What d'you mean, 'living through us'?" Harry retorted.
Eurielle sighed and shared a tired look with Hermione which seemed to have pissed Harry off more, " I mean, Harry, he's bored, lonely, and cooped up in the house that's constantly reminding him of his horrible childhood and Kreacher only worsens it. He's trying to escape all that through us, you especially, but Sirius doesn't seem to realize one important thing- you're not James, and you can never be James to him-,"
" Shut up!" yelled Harry, making Ron and Hermione flinch. Eurielle didn't move, her face calm and relaxed.
" You know I'm right Harry, this Sirius, isn't our Sirius. This one is selfish, irresponsible-."
" I said shut up!" bellowed Harry, slamming his hand on the table, " You have no right to talk about him like that, you never write him, you don't care about him-!"
" Harry!" said Hermione.
Eurielle said nothing but grabbed her bag and stood, " I have my reasons for being distant, maybe it hadn't occurred to you that I thought you needed him more than I," she said softly, but her eyes were still cool and bored. She turned on her heel and left the classroom.
-
As soon as that door closed she broke off into a run, she could feel the tears threatening to fall and she had to get someplace before they did. She rounded an empty corridor and flung the door to the Girl's Bathroom, it was Moaning Myrtle's Toilet so she knew no one would be here.
Eurielle let out a gasping breath as she leaned against the stone wall and wiped vigorously at her eyes,is that what Sirius thought? Did he think she didn't love him?
She had never said it to him, and he told her only once that she could recall, but they both knew it, didn't they? These past two years since his escape from Azkaban had been hectic and she couldn't exactly spend time with him and get to know her father, really.
Maybe she should have tried harder.
" Ellie?" said a voice.
She looked up to see Harry, looking ashamed and sorry, " What is it?" she asked, looking down at the marble floor. He sighed and approached her and leaned on the opposite wall, " I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. . ."
She nodded, " Have you really been," he paused, trying to find the correct words, " Do you really think I need Sirius more than you?"
She sighed, she didn't think, she knew, " Yes,"
" And that's why you don't send letters?"
She frowned, " It's a little more complicated than that," she said swallowing the lump in her throat.
Harry walked up to her and placed himself beside her on the wall, " Well, we have time," he said looking up at the chipped ceiling, " But we better hurry before Myrtle comes out of a toilet or something,"
Eurielle offered him a half laugh, " I'm scared," she whispered bitterly.
" Of Sirius?"
She shrugged, " Not of him really, but of forming a relationship with him and then waking up one day and he not be in my life anymore... I've done a lot of stupid things trying to distract myself from that, y'know," she said quietly, her mind going back to the Yule Ball.
" Like what?"
Eurielle blinked, and slowly hugged herself, letting out a deep breath, " I... I slept with Blaise after the Yule Ball," she whispered.
Harry's eyes bulged out of his head and he looked at her in shock, " But- But I thought it was just a rumor," he said in one breath.
She shook her head slowly and looked up at him, " I felt alone, sad, and unwanted," she sniffed, wiping her eyes, coming to this realization almost a year later, " So I wanted to feel wanted, feel like I mattered to someone, and the worst part was I trusted him."
" I didn't fancy him, never had, but a mutual agreement turned into something so fucking vial. Do you know what it's like to remember someone touching you and- and being with y-you during such a vulnerable mo-moment?" she stuttered.
" I can still feel it and it makes me w-want t-to - it makes me want t-to-," she stopped talking and shook her head, sliding down the stone wall and curling up into a ball. Tears were falling freely now, but she didn't care enough to stop them. She wanted a boiling hot bath, she wanted to wash that feeling of hands roaming her body off.
" I'm sorry," he whispered, " I'm really sorry, Ellie,"
He slid down beside her and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her to his side. They skipped lunch that day.
-
" The Room of Requirement?"
Harry nodded and pulled out the map and touched it with his wand, Hermione and Ron were glancing down the halls, obviously paranoid, " Yeah Dobby told me about it, c'mon Filch and Umbridge aren't around,"
The walked until they reached a large vase and Harry's face screwed up in concentration, and not even a second later a large polished oak door appeared. With wide eyes and careful glances they entered. The room was a perfect Defense classroom.
There was a padded floor for dueling, shelves of defense books, sneakscopes, secrecy sensors, and cushions. Eurielle entered and looked at the large mirror on the other side of the room that she guessed was foe glass, " This is perfect,"
Hermione nodded and bounded toward the bookshelves, " It really is!" she gushed pulling out a book, " People should start showing up soon,"
And they did. By the time eight o'clock arrived, every cushion was occupied. Harry moved across to the door and turned the key protruding from the lock; it clicked in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody fell silent, looking at him. Hermione carefully marked her page of Jinxes for the Jinxed and set the book aside. Eurielle swaggered to the front and stood beside Hermione, Ron following beside her.
"Well," said Harry, slightly nervously. "This is the place we've found for practices, and you've — er — obviously found it okay —"
"It's fantastic!" said Cho, and several people murmured their agreement.
"It's bizarre," said Fred, frowning around at it. "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then. . . ."
"Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?" asked Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.
"Dark Detectors," said Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. "Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled. . . ."
"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er —" He noticed a raised hand. "What, Hermione?"
"I think we ought to elect a leader," said Hermione.
"Harry's leader," said Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she were mad, Eurielle was mildly uncomfortable and she only sighed when Hermione said she still thought they should vote properly even though the entire room agreed that Harry should be leader.
"Er — right, thanks," said Harry, who's cheeks were becoming pink,"And — what, Hermione?"
"I also think we ought to have a name," she said brightly, her hand still in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"
"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" said Angelina hopefully
"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" suggested Fred.
Eurielle grinned at him and he winked, " I like it," she said looking to Hermione who only frowned, " More of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."
"The Defense Association?" said Cho. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?" "Yeah, the D.A.'s good," said Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?"
There was a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this. Eurielle nodded, " I agree with Gillian-,"
" Ginny," she said sharply.
" Who?"
" ANYWAY," said Hermione addressing the group, " All in favor of the D.A.?"
"That's a majority — motion passed!" She pinned the piece of paper with all of their names on it on the wall and wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top in large letters.
"Right," said Harry, "shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful —"
"Oh please," said Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. "I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?"
Eurielle scowled, " Jesus Christ, Blonde Boy who interrupts people, will you kindly shut the hell-,"
" No, Ellie it's fine," said Harry placing a hand on her shoulder, " I've used it against him, It saved my life last June."
Smith opened his mouth stupidly. The rest of the room was very quiet. "But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry said.
Eurielle smiled when no one moved "Okay," said Harry, "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."
Eurielle saw as Neville was left partnerless and she made her way over to him with a small smile, " C'mon Neville, you'll practice with me," she said softly, leading him over to the side of the room, waving at Fred and George as she passed.
Neville was practically shaking and Eurielle frowned, " You don't have to be scared of me Neville," she said, " I'm only a bitch to assholes and annoying idiots, which is a category you don't fall under,"
He swallowed and sent her a warry smile, " O-okay," he said, taking a deep breath.
The two began to cast the spell but Eurielle was far faster. Neville's wand flew out of his hand and his cheeks grew pink as he scrambled to get it.
" Here Neville, I want you to try the spell on me, I won't cast a spell. I just want to see if you can do it, c'mon now," she said, letting her arms fall to her sides.
The plump boy looked as nervous as ever but then he cast the spell and Eurielle's wand flew out of her hand, " I- I DID IT!" said Neville gleefully. "I've never done it before — I DID IT!"
Eurielle grinned, " Good job, now again," she said holding her wand tighter, and it flew out of her grasp all the same. Neville was perfectly capable but he was only lacking confidence.
-
The past three weeks flew by and Eurielle found herself actually excited for the DA meetings. But the dates were constantly switching around so Hermione came up with a way for them to communicate using fake galleons and her and Eurielle got to work casting protean charms on nearly thirty.
"You see the numerals around the edge of the coins?" Hermione said, holding one up for examination at the end of their fourth meeting. The coin gleamed fat and yellow in the light from the torches. "On real Galleons that's just a serial number referring to the goblin who cast the coin. On these fake coins, though, the numbers will change to reflect the time and date of the next meeting. The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you're carrying them in a pocket you'll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meeting he'll change the numbers on his coin, and because Eurielle and I put a Protean Charms on them, they'll all change to mimic his." she said gesturing to Eurielle and herself.
A blank silence greeted Hermione's words. She looked around at all the faces upturned to her, rather disconcerted. "Well — I thought it was a good idea," she said uncertainly,looking at Eurielle who look just as surprised with the looks, "I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there's nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But . . . well, if you don't want to use them . . ."
" You two can cast a Protean Charm?" asked Terry Boot.
The two girls looked to each other before nodding, " Yep," said Eurielle popping the 'p', " What about it?"
"But that's . . . that's N.E.W.T. standard, that is," he said weakly.
"Oh," said Hermione, trying to look modest. "Oh . . . well . . . yes, I suppose it is. . . ."
Eurielle grinned, " Yeah, we're pretty great, huh?" she said looking to the brunette who's cheeks were pink, " Yeah I'm not as modest as you, Granger,"
"How come you're not in Ravenclaw?" he demanded, staring at Hermione with something close to wonder. "With brains like yours?"
"Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting," said Hermione brightly, "but it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So does that mean we're using the Galleons?"
There was a murmur of assent and everybody moved forward to collect one from the basket.
-
Eurielle was dragged to the Quidditch pitch by Lee. He made her climb up the stairs to the commentators box and there was Professor McGonagall waiting for them, " Here, Professor," he said cheerfully, nodding to Eurielle, " I've brought a Ravenclaw, unbiased and trustworthy."
Her eyebrows shot to her hairline and she turned to Lee, " What?"
McGonagall sighed, " Is Ms. Black not aware you signed her up as co-commentator for this particular match?"
Lee shook his head frantically, " Of course not Professor!" he said indignantly before turning to Eurielle who looked about ready to shove him off the stand, " Help me out, please, Ellie?" he said with puppy dog eyes.
" I fucking hate you," she groaned.
Lee's dark eyes only grew larger, " Pleaseeeee, I need a back up because have you seen what the Slytherins are wearing?"
She had the Weasley is our King pins, obviously to insult him and make him blow the whole match. She nodded miserably, " I fucking hate you," she sighed.
Lee grinned triumphantly and watched as people began to pack the stadium, " C'mon Ellie,"
Eurielle felt her heart beat rapidly but she assumed a cool disposition and watched with her blood boiling as the Slytherins all snickered and pointed to the field as the Gryffindor team filed out, their gold badges gleaming in the November sunlight.
The team captains shook hands and with the sound of Madame Hooch's whistle they were off, "And it's Johnson, Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me —"
" Oh yes how awfully shocking Lee," said Eurielle, almost surprised as her voice rang through out the pitch, " Now on to relevant things, she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — oh— been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe,"
Lee winced into his mic, " Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away —".
"— dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call for Spinnet- Wait what's that?" said Eurielle looking over to a grinning Lee.
" That Black is the sound of the crowd loving this, but what are they singing,"
The two stopped commentating and Eurielle heard it as clear as day, she shared a horrified look with Lee as the Slytherin's sang:
" Weasley cannot save a thing, He cannot block a single ring, That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King. Weasley was born in a bin, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley will make sure we win, Weasley is our King."
Icy anger washed over her as she said into the mic, " Ah it seems Slytherin has resorted to their usual method of provocation," she said in a matter of fact tone, " This is very commonly seen in these Gryffindor and Slytherin matches, as the Slytherins know there is no chance of winning unless they resort to such methods."
The Slytherins stopped their singing to boo the commentators while the others roared with laughter.
Lee nodded solemnly, " In my years of commentating I must agree with Eurielle here, the sorry gits- "
" JORDAN! BLACK!" said McGonagall in a warning tone.
" He's just telling it how it is, Professor," said Eurielle turning back to the game, " and Spinnet passes back to Johnson!"
"Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah . . ."
Eurielle frowned, " Bletchley saves the goal and throws the Quaffle to Warrington who's now zigzagging between Spinnet and Johnson," she said as Lee bit his lip, his eyes wide as he looked from Warrington to Ron.
" Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King!" shrieked the Slytherins.
" Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead —"
" Weasley is our King, Weasley is our King, He always lets the Quaffle in, Weasley is our King!"
Lee cleared his throat and spoke over the rows of emerald and silver, " — so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper, Weasley, brother of Beaters, Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!"
But the scream of delight came from the Slytherin end: Ron had dived wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle had soared between them, straight through Ron's central hoop. "Slytherin score!" came Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below. "So that's ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron . . ."
Eurielle's heart sank, " WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN, HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN! WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN, WEASLEY IS OUR KING !"
She was so fucking pissed, " — and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch —" cried Lee valiantly, though the singing was now so deafening that he could hardly make himself heard above it.
"— and it's Warrington again," bellowed Lee, "who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now Angelina, you can take him — turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley,"
" George," corrected Eurielle.
Lee grinned, " You'd know wouldn't you Black, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er — drops it too — so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle, and he's off up the pitch, come on now Gryffindor, block him!"
The game went on with Ron missing every Quaffle and the Slytherin's singing that damned song. Eurielle and Lee continued commentating, being shushed by McGonagall when they insulted the Slytherin's.
The thing that saved the game was Harry after he caught the snitch, but Eurielle's eyes were on Ron who had left the pitch quickly, walking into the locker rooms, alone.
She made her way down the field to congratulate Fred, George, and Harry when Malfoy piped up, "Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?" he said to Harry. "I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin. . . . Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"
Eurielle looked at the pale boy with a scowl and rested her hand on Harry's tense shoulder, " Just ignore him, Harry, he's just mad he lost you again-,"
"But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see —"
"Talk about sour grapes," said Angelina, casting Malfoy a disgusted look. "— we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know —"
Fred and George had realized what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand they stiffened, looking around at Malfoy. Eurielle bit her tongue, not wanting to lash out, " Guys, don't,"
"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?" said Malfoy, sneering. "Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasleys' hovel smells okay —"
Harry grabbed hold of George; meanwhile it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping onto Malfoy. Eurielle grabbed Fred's face in her hands and made him look at her, " I know, love, but you can't-,"
Malfoy, who was laughing openly. Harry looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was still berating Crabbe for his illegal Bludger attack. "Or perhaps," said Malfoy, leering as he backed away, "you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it —"
Eurielle whirled around to tell Malfoy to shove it up his ass and he could go bugger himself when she saw George and Harry leap onto the Slytherin. Harry's fist made contact with the boy's gut.
"Harry! HARRY! GEORGE! NO !" shrieked Angelina.
-
" You've been banned?" said Eurielle with wide eyes.
Fred nodded, fuming, " YEAH!" he said kicking his trunk, " IF SHE'S GOING TO BAN ME SHE MIGHT AS WELL LET ME POUND THAT WEASEL'S FACE IN!"
Eurielle watched as he paced around the room with a frown and pity filled eyes, " Well. . . we can always play a little joke on him," she said with a smile.
Fred stopped pacing the dormitory and looked up at her, " Little?"
She got up and shrugged, walking up to him, " Well- big," she said with a smirk, snaking her hand up his chest and wrapping them around his neck, making him lean down. Fred pressed his forehead to hers.
" What would I do without you?" he hummed.
She chuckled, " Come to the same conclusion, but just a lot later,"
Fred laughed before pressing a kiss to her lips. She smiled into the kiss and gasped when he picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, " Fred, what the hell-!"
He threw Eurielle onto his bed and laughed before flopping down on her, " You're bloody heavy!" she wheezed, pushing him off her. The redhead chuckled before catching her lips in another kiss, this time more rough and passionate.
She allowed him to attack her neck with kisses and light love bites and laughed when he blew a raspberry in the crook of it. Her slenders fingers ran through his fiery locks while she let out a contented sigh as his hands crawled up her shirt, playing with the hem of her bra.
They had done this before, but it had never gotten farther than intimate touches and kisses. She wasn't ready to go that far yet, she actually wanted it to mean something.
Fred knew this already, and he never overstepped his bounds, which she was very thankful for. Eurielle felt him left up her shirt the smallest bit and froze, what was he doing. Before she could tell him to stop he shoved his face into her belly and blew.
She shrieked and shoved him off her, " OI!"
-
November ended with Hagrid coming back and inspected by Umbridge. He had shown the class thestrals, which she couldn't see. Hermione had told her Hagrid had been in the mountains trying to get the giants on their side, but he had been unsuccessful.
The twins had managed to prank Malfoy, turning his hair fiery red- much like their own. It didn't come out for three whole days much to her delight.
-
Eurielle walked into the Room of Requirement with Lee, " C'mon Ellie!" he whined, closing the door behind them, " Pleaseee!"
The people who were there looked at the two curiously. Eurielle threw her bag down, " No, Lee, I'm not bloody doing it!"
The Gryffindor got on his knees, " Please, please, please-!"
" No!" she shouted looking over to Fred, " When the hell did you become my pimp?!"
Fred grinned and shared an amused look with George, " I said it was up to you, but I told him he could rent you for the day for the low price of four galleons,"
Lee continued to grovel, " Please, Eurielle, my mum's been badgering for me to get a girlfriend for ages and if I bring you home-,"
" No, Lee,"
" But you're so hot she'll-"
" No,"
" be so impressed-"
" No,"
Fred and George began laughing as Lee groaned, curling up on a cushion. Eurielle rolled her eyes at the three before walking over to Hermione who sat reading a book on jinxes, " What are you doing for Christmas?" she asked, making her place.
Eurielle watched as Neville's toad Trevor hopped across the floor, " My grandmother and grandfather are talking about spending Christmas with my aunt and uncle, but I know they're spending Christmas in Brazil with my aunt's mother, so I'm guessing we're spending it at Grimmauld,"
The house elf that was practically in love with Harry had decorated the DA room with holly, ribbons, and several Christmas ornaments, all baring Harry's face.
Eurielle got up to ask Harry what they were doing today but was stopped by Fred. She frowned and he grinned at her sheepishly, " I'm sorry," he said with a large frown that was obviously fake, " But I can't leave you hanging- you're under mistletoe,"
She heard George cat-call the pair and she only smirked, " I suggest you close your eyes then Weasley," she purred, her eyes falling on the toad that was hopping near their feel. Fred did as she instructed and she bent down, grabbed the toad, and pressed it to his mouth.
He let out a shout of disgust, staggering backwards as Lee and George roared with laughter. Upon realizing what happened others followed. Eurielle laughed and held the toad to her chest, stroking it's head, causing it's small eyes to close appreciatively.
" OI! You treat the toad better than me!" said Fred wiping his mouth.
-
His body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding between shining metal bars, across dark, cold stone. . . . He was flat against the floor, sliding along on his belly. . . . It was dark, yet he could see objects around him shimmering in strange, vibrant colors. . . . He was turning his head. . . . At first glance, the corridor was empty . . . but no . . . a man was sitting on the floor ahead, his chin drooping onto his chest, his outline gleaming in the dark. . . . Harry put out his tongue. . . . He tasted the man's scent on the air. . . . He was alive but drowsing . . . sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor . .
Harry longed to bite the man . . . but he must master the impulse. . . . He had more important work to do. . . . But the man was stirring . . . a silvery cloak fell from his legs as he jumped to his feet; and Harry saw his vibrant, blurred outline towering above him, saw a wand withdrawn from a belt. . . . He had no choice. . . . He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood. . . . The man was yelling in pain . . . then he fell silent. . . . He slumped backward against the wall. . . . Blood was splattering onto the floor. . . . His forehead hurt terribly. . . . It was aching fit to burst. . . .
The dream shifted
A woman. Her once tan skin now a pale olive color, her face sunken in slightly, and her curly chocolate brown hair was down to her waist She sat in a bed, her brown eyes staring at the wall in front of her. And a voice, a silky smooth voice that almost sounded like a hiss, " She knows, she knows, she knows, she knows,"
" It would be easier to kill her," said a voice.
" Yeah, but that's not what he wants," said another.
" How could she know what he's doing? She's been in here for almost fifteen years."
The hissing voice once again whispered throughout the room, " She knows, she knows, she knows,"
Harry! HARRY!"
He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; his bedcovers were twisted all around him like a straitjacket; he felt as though a white-hot poker was being applied to his forehead.
"Harry!" Ron was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry's bed. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him. . . . He rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.
"He's really ill," said a scared voice.
"Should we call someone?"
"Harry! Harry!"
He had to tell Ron, it was very important that he tell him. . . . Taking great gulps of air, Harry pushed himself up in bed, willing himself not to throw up again, the pain half-blinding him. "Your dad," he panted, his chest heaving. "Your dad's . . . been attacked. . . ."
"What?" said Ron uncomprehendingly.
"Your dad! He's been bitten, it's serious, there was blood everywhere. . . ."
"I'm going for help," said the same scared voice, and Harry heard footsteps running out of the dormitory.
"Harry, mate," said Ron uncertainly, "you . . . you were just dreaming. . . ."
"No!" said Harry furiously; it was crucial that Ron understand. "It wasn't a dream . . . not an ordinary dream. . . . I was there, I saw it. . . . I did it. . . ."
He could hear Seamus and Dean muttering but did not care. The pain in his forehead was subsiding slightly, though he was still sweating and shivering feverishly. He retched again and Ron leapt backward out of the way. "Harry, you're not well," he said shakily. "Neville's gone for help. . . ."
"I'm fine!" Harry choked, wiping his mouth on his pajamas and shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing wrong with me, it's your dad you've got to worry about — we need to find out where he is — he's bleeding like mad — I was — it was a huge snake. . . ."
He tried to get out of bed but Ron pushed him back into it; Dean and Seamus were still whispering somewhere nearby. Whether one minute passed or ten, Harry did not know; he simply sat there shaking, feeling the pain recede very slowly from his scar. . . . Then there were hurried footsteps coming up the stairs, and he heard Neville's voice again.
"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. "What is it, Potter? Where does it hurt?"
He had never been so pleased to see her; it was a member of the Order of the Phoenix he needed now, not someone fussing over him and prescribing useless potions. "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!" said Harry angrily. Would none of them understand? "I was having a dream at first about something completely different, something stupid . . . 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 was a load of blood, he collapsed, someone's got to find out where he is. . . . and- and there was this woman, she's being watched, they want to kill her but he won't let them. . .," he said breathlessly.
McGonagall froze, " What. . . what did she look like?" she said, and a rush of relief flooded his stomach, she was believing him.
" She had brown hair, brown eyes, and she wore a white gown. She...," he trailed off his green eyes wide, " She looked like Eurielle," he whispered.
McGonagall's face paled, " Come with me Potter,"
-
Him and Ron went to Dumbledore's office together with McGonagall. Harry told him what he had seen and after a second Dumbledore ordered two portraits to see if they could find Mr. Weasley.
Dumbledore marched over to another portrait, this time of a clever-looking wizard with a pointed beard, who had been painted wearing the Slytherin colors of green and silver and was apparently sleeping so deeply that he could not hear Dumbledore's voice when he attempted to rouse him.
"Phineas. Phineas."
And now the subjects of the portraits lining the room were no longer pretending to be asleep; they were shifting around in their frames, the better to watch what was happening. When the cleverlooking wizard continued to feign sleep, some of them shouted his name too.
"Phineas! Phineas! PHINEAS!"
He could not pretend any longer; he gave a theatrical jerk and opened his eyes wide. "Did someone call?"
"I need you to visit your other portrait again, Phineas," said Dumbledore. "I've got another message."
"Visit my other portrait?" said Phineas in a reedy voice, giving a long, fake yawn (his eyes traveling around the room and focusing upon Harry). "Oh no, Dumbledore, I am too tired tonight. . . ." he said cooly, looking back at the others in a bored and haughty manner.
Harry and Ron shared a look, " Something about this bloke is really familiar," mumbled Ron. Harry had to agree.
But before he could think, the portraits on the surrounding walls broke into a storm of protest. "Insubordination, sir!" roared a corpulent, red-nosed wizard, brandishing his fists.
"Dereliction of duty!" "We are honor-bound to give service to the present Headmaster of Hogwarts!" cried a frail-looking old wizard whom Harry recognized as Dumbledore's predecessor, Armando Dippet.
"Shame on you, Phineas!"
"Shall I persuade him, Dumbledore?" called a gimlet-eyed witch, raising an unusually thick wand that looked not unlike a birch rod.
"Oh, very well," said the wizard called Phineas, eyeing this wand slightly apprehensively, "though he may well have destroyed my picture by now, he's done most of the family —"
"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," said Dumbledore, and Harry realized immediately where he had heard Phineas's voice before: issuing from the apparently empty frame in his bedroom in Grimmauld Place. "You are to give him the message that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured and that his wife, children, your granddaughter, and Harry Potter will be arriving at his house shortly. Do you understand?"
"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife and children and Harry Potter coming to stay- and my granddaughter," recited Phineas in a bored voice. "Yes, yes . . . very well. . . ."
He sloped away into the frame of the portrait and disappeared from view at the very moment that the study door opened again. Fred, George, and Ginny were ushered inside by Professor McGonagall, all three of them looking disheveled and shocked, still in their night things.
Eurielle came in behind them wearing a thin black robe. She walked over to Fred and placed a hand on his arm, an attempt at a comforting gesture. Harry was reminded of the vision of her mother and his stomach lurched.
"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 to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow. You will meet your mother there."
"How're we going?" asked Fred, grabbing Eurielle's hand. "Floo powder?"
"No," said Dumbledore, "Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently 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. "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.
"He says he'll be delighted," said a bored voice behind Dumbledore; the wizard called Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner, looking over at Eurielle "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests. . . Oh it's you" he said, pretending to just notice the Ravenclaw.
"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ." Harry and the others gathered around Dumbledore's desk. "You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle.
" But Professor, what about Ev-,"
He shook his head, " We'll sort it out, don't worry,"
He felt a powerful jerk behind his navel, the ground vanished from beneath his feet, his hand was glued to the kettle; he was banging into the others as all sped forward in a swirl of colors and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling them onward and then — His feet hit the ground so hard that his knees buckled, 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. Harry scrambled to his feet and looked around; they had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains of a solitary supper. Kreacher was disappearing through the door to the hall, looking back at them malevolently as he hitched up his loincloth; Sirius was hurrying toward them all, 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 Eurielle up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured —"
"Ask Harry," said Fred.
"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George. They were all staring at him. Kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.
"It was —" Harry began; this was even worse than telling McGonagall and Dumbledore. "I had a — a kind of — vision. . . ." And he told them all that he had seen, though he altered the story so that it sounded as though he had watched from the sidelines as the snake attacked, rather than from behind the snake's own eyes.
Ron, who was still very white, gave him a fleeting look, but did not speak. When Harry had finished, the three Weasleys 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. Well, if they were going to blame him for just seeing the attack, he was glad he had not told them that he had been inside the snake at the time. . . .
"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. She looked around at her brothers; they were of course still in their pajamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything — ?"
"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!" said Sirius.
" 'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want," said Fred, with a mulish expression, "he's our dad!"
"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?"
"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. "Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"
Fred and George looked as though they could not care less what the Ministry made of anything. Ron was still white-faced and silent. Ginny said, "Somebody else could have told us. . . . We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry. . . ."
"Like who?" said Sirius impatiently. "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. "Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" said Sirius angrily in his turn. "This is how it is — this is why you're not in the Order — you don't understand — there are things worth dying for!"
Eurielle turned to look at Sirius with wide eyes, " Sirius-,"
"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" bellowed Fred. "I don't see you risking your neck!"
The little color remaining in Sirius's face drained from it. He looked for a moment as though he would quite like to hit Fred, but when he spoke, it was in a voice of determined calm. "I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"
Fred and George still looked mutinous. Ginny, however, took a few steps over to the nearest chair and sank into it. Harry looked at Ron, who made a funny movement somewhere between a nod and shrug, and they sat down too.
The twins glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats on either side of Ginny. "That's right," said Sirius encouragingly, "come on, let's all . . . let's all have a drink while we're waiting. Accio Butterbeer!" He raised his wand as he spoke and half a dozen bottles came flying toward them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of Sirius's meal, and stopped neatly in front of the six of them. They all drank, and for a while the only sounds were those of the crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.
Eurielle had taken a seat beside Fred and Harry already knew that she was holding his hand under the table, " There's something I don't understand," she said, " Why bring me here as well?"
Ron turned to Harry who bit his tongue, should he tell her? " I don't know," he said.
Eurielle only nodded. He put the bottle down on the table a little harder than he meant to, so that it slopped over onto the table. No one took any notice. Then a burst of fire in midair illuminated the dirty plates in front of them and as they 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 — here —"
He thrust the letter into George's hand, who ripped it open and read aloud, "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 alive . . ." he said slowly. "But that makes it sound . . ." He did not need to finish the sentence. It sounded to Harry too as though Mr. Weasley was hovering somewhere between life and death. Still exceptionally pale, Ron stared at the back of his mother's letter as though it might speak words of comfort to him. Fred pulled the parchment out of George's hands and read it for himself, then looked up at Harry, who felt his hand shaking on his butterbeer bottle again and clenched it more tightly to stop the trembling.
-
Fred placed the parchment down on the table and flopped down onto a loveseat. Eurielle approached him. She pulled his head to his chest and began stroking his hair. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer and she only continued to to brush his hair with her fingers.
She sat down beside him, laying his head in her lap. Her nails traced patterns on his face and nose, causing him to doze off.
It was a long night and before she knew it she had dozed off as well, totally unaware of Sirius's eyes on her and Fred.
And then, at ten past five in the morning the door swung open and Mrs. Weasley entered. Fred stood up and looked at his mother. She was extremely pale, but when they all turned to look at her, she gave a wan smile.
"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 onto the loveseat beside Eurielle 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.
Fred pulled Eurielle into a hug and buried his face into the crook of his neck, " I was so scared," he breathed. She returned the embrace, rubbing his back.
" It's okay now, love, he's going to be okay," she soothed, ignoring the curious glances from Mrs. Weasley, " I think you should hug your mum, darling," she whispered.
He nodded, sniffing and got to his feet before enveloping his mother in a hug.
"Breakfast!" said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"
But Kreacher did not answer the summons. "Oh, forget it, then," muttered Sirius, counting the people in front of him. "So it's breakfast for — let's see — eight. . . Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"
Eurielle got up before casting a glance at Fred, and then with Harry joined Sirius in the kitchen.
-
Around lunch their trunks from Hogwarts arrived and they began dressing eagerly for the trip to St. mungo's. Eurielle chose to stay at Grimmauld with Sirius, not comfortable being so close to her mother but not being able to see her. Though they weren't going to the same ward... she just couldn't.
Sirius and her were left alone in the house, " I'm glad you're here," he said quietly, looking out the dusty window, " I'm really proud of you, k'now, going under Umbridge's nose and teaching yourselves,"
Eurielle sat down in a chair opposite to him and shrugged, " Thanks, I'm glad I'm here too,"
An awkward silence followed, " Are you dating Fred?" he asked, trying to be casual but failing.
Eurielle frowned and looked down at her lap before nodding, " I ... I am," she said quietly, part of her afraid he'd get angry or overprotective, but he just nodded looking at his empty bottle of butterbeer.
" Does he treat you well?"
She looked at him with a frown, " Yes, he does,"
Sirius poked out his lips, his silver eyes going from the table, the door, the ceiling- anywhere but her. She knew what he was thinking, she knew what he wanted to know, so, she'd tell him.
" No we haven't shagged," she said bluntly.
Sirius's eyes bugged out of his head and he began coughing, beating his chest with his fist, " I-I didn't a-ask!" he coughed, his eyes practically glued to the floor.
" No, but you were thinking it," she sighed.
-
There were only three patients. Mr. Weasley was occupying the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. Harry was pleased and relieved to see that he was propped up on several pillows and reading the Daily Prophet by the solitary ray of sunlight falling onto his bed. He looked around as they walked toward him and, seeing whom it was, beamed.
"Hello!" he called, throwing the Prophet aside. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later. . . ."
"How are you, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, bending down to kiss his cheek and looking anxiously into his face. "You're still looking a bit peaky. . . ."
"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, looking at his father for a reaction. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"
"That's enough," said Mrs. Weasley crossly. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside," she added to her children and Harry. "You can come and say good-bye afterward. Go on. . .
They trooped back into the corridor. Mad-Eye and Tonks went in and closed the door of the ward behind them. Fred raised his eyebrows. "Fine," he said coolly, rummaging in his pockets, "be like that. Don't tell us anything."
"Looking for these?" said George, holding out what looked like a tangle of flesh-colored string.
"You read my mind," said Fred, grinning. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"
He and George disentangled the string and separated five Extendable Ears from each other. Fred and George handed them around. Harry hesitated to take one. "Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you. . . ."
Grinning in spite of himself, Harry took the end of the string and inserted it into his ear as the twins had done. "Okay, go!" Fred whispered. The flesh-colored strings wriggled like long skinny worms, then snaked under the door.
For a few seconds Harry could hear nothing, then he heard Tonks whispering as clearly as though she were standing right beside him. ". . . they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur. . . . But what happened in that other vision Harry saw, I know Dumbledore told you Moody. I don't think he or Ron has said anything, too caught up with what happened to Arthur to give it much mind."
They heard Moody grunt, " Apparently the lad had seen Evelyn Black- well from how he described her,"
Tonks gasped, " Evelyn? What about her, is she okay?"
" He said he just saw her sitting in her room, starin' at a wall. Heard someone whispering about her, saying it'd be easier to kill her but they weren't allowed too..."
This time it was Mrs. Weasley who spoke, " Just like Dumbledore had said, he's after her, he thinks she knows what he's up to, but how would she?"
-
-
-
-
She looked to the window and smiled slightly as the bright crescent moon shone through her window, casting a soft blue hue on her linen covers and gown, it was pretty, she thought.
" You've been here long enough Evelyn," said a soft voice from the doorway.
She looked up to see a pale woman with striking blue eyes and a glossy brown pony tail, she looked familiar.
" Hurry up now, you don't have much time,"
Suddenly that delightful fog that had clouded her mind fell away and her brown eyes widened at the lady, " You're-,"
She nodded, " Yes, Now hurry, you only have mental clarity for a small amount of time, you must hurry,"
Evelyn sprung up, her hair now fell to her waist and her once curvy tan body was now thin and a ashened olive color. She hurried towards the door and the woman stopped her, " Not this way, take my hand Evelyn,"
And she did.
Before Evelyn could blink she was outside on a sidewalk, the cold December wind whipping her white night gown and long hair wildly, " It's snowing," she mumbled holding out a bony hand and letting a snowflake fall onto it, " I need to get back to them, where are they, where are we?"
The woman looked at her with pity, " Find the house that say Number 12, but hurry, you don't have much time," she whispered
Evelyn broke into a staggered run. Her bare feet slapping against the cold cement as her russet eyes looked to every letter box.
5
She could feel that fog coming back, she had to hurry.
7
Where was it, twelve, she needed twelve.
10
She was almost there.
11
Eurielle, Sirius, Harry.
She stopped, panting as she touched the rusted bronze numbers, " 12," she breathed. She clenched her teeth as she staggered up the stairs, feeling her mind slip, Knock Evelyn, Knock.
Her hands began to shake and she collapsed on the steps, not now, she wouldn't allow it.
She raised a balled up fist and slammed it against the door.