Harry Potter fanfic--Student Teacher at Hogwarts
by Terri Wells
Chapter Eleven - Post-Holiday Fireworks
July 5, 2001
At the Burrow, the peace of the morning of July 5th was shattered by loud hooting. Terri groaned and rolled over in her cot. The hooting was followed by even louder shouting. "Will you bloody
well HOLD STILL, Pig?!" came Ron's voice from the stairway. "How do you expect me to get that letter if you don't -- Ouch! Cripes, that blasted featherbrain BIT me!"
What the heck? Terri wondered. That did seem like odd behavior for a messenger owl, even Pig. As the angry hooting came closer, Terri stretched, curiosity winning out over the comfort of the cot. She pushed back the lightweight blanket and padded over to the door, quickly glancing over at Deidre and Ginny to make sure she didn't wake them. Smoothing down her oversized Intel T-shirt (gotta love those conference freebies, she thought), Terri cautiously opened the door and peered out. She gasped and pulled back as a fist-sized bundle of hooting grey feathers nearly collided with her forehead. Ron Weasley, still wearing his pajamas, thundered down the stairs after the owl. He held his right hand with his left hand; his right thumb was bleeding.
Terri's eyes widened. Messenger owls were better trained than that! "Pig did that?" she said to Ron, getting his attention.
"What? Yeah," he said, just noticing her. "Stupid bird! I was just trying to get that reply from Harry off his leg, but he went nutters. He just kept nipping and flying away from me, and hooting
like crazy." Ron gave Terri a funny look. "You don't suppose birds can get rabies, do you?"
Terri frowned. "It seems unlikely," she said. Just then, a shout from downstairs got their attention.
"RON!" came Mrs. Weasley's voice. "Come down here and get Pig! NOW!"
"I'm trying, Mum!" Ron shouted back, hurrying the rest of the way down the stairs. "But he keeps flying away! He won't let me!"
Bemused, Terri followed Ron downstairs. She'd never heard of an owl behaving like this before. Was Pig carrying a message that was not intended for Ron after all?
When she arrived in the kitchen, Terri witnessed a strange sight. Ron was giving his mother a half-desperate look ("See, I told you it was acting nutters!") while Pig seemed to be flying in
circles, trying to get Mrs. Weasley's attention, and keeping out of range of Ron. Several times he perched on the same spot on top of Mrs. Weasley's cookbooks, which were two deep on the shelf. The second time Pig did that, Mrs. Weasley went pale; the third time, she gasped. Ron and Terri looked at her in confusion. What was going on?
Mrs. Weasley closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and smoothed down her apron to compose herself. "Ron," she said softly, not taking her eyes off the owl, "go upstairs and wake your father.
Tell him to bring his wand." Ron hesitated, looking more confused than ever. "Now, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said, more firmly. Ron turned and ran out of the kitchen.
Mrs. Weasley sighed. Apparently unaware of Terri's presence, she walked over to the spot among the cookbooks where Pig had perched several times and reached for a book. The one she withdrew, however, did not look like a cookbook. About as large as one of her hands, and half an inch thick, the blue clothbound book featured a gold phoenix on the front cover. Mrs. Weasley looked at it and shook her head. "I had hoped..." she whispered softly. When she placed the book on the kitchen table, almost reverently, Pig settled near it, holding out a message-clad leg.
Just then Mr. Weasley entered the kitchen, rubbing his face and yawning. He was also still in his pajamas, over which he wore a bathrobe; his wand was in its pocket. "Molly, what's all this
about -- " He cut himself short when he saw the look on her face. She pointed to the book and the owl. His jaw dropped.
"Dad, what's going on?" Ron asked. Mr. Weasley waved at his son to be quiet, and approached the owl. Pig hooted, and tapped the leg with the message against the book.
Mr. Weasley shook his head and sighed. "We won't need the book for this one," he said, withdrawing his wand from his robes. Pointing it at the message, he intoned, "Priori contactus." A pair of hands suddenly appeared around the message, closing and sealing the parchment. Terri knew the spell revealed who or what had last been in contact with the parchment, so hands sealing up the message were only to be expected. There was only one problem: these hands
Mr. Weasley let out his breath in a hiss. "Ron," he said, "this is supposed to be a reply to a message you sent to Harry?" At Ron's worried nod, Mr. Weasley turned to his wife. "Get Albus in the fire," he said. "Pig was intercepted."
It was Terri's turn to gasp. Involuntarily, she remembered what Gavin Bones had told her of the dark times of Voldemort's reign: how owls were intercepted, their messages altered and used for nefarious purposes. Only magic could reveal whether a message had been tampered with. Many wizards on both sides worked out elaborate codes to conceal even the most innocent of messages, and developed spells and counterspells to hide tampering, or prevent interference. "It was a time when you could trust no one and nothing," Gavin had said, sighing heavily. "You could not know whether the message you sent would make it through, or be altered, or even somehow cause your own death."
At Terri's gasp, Mr. Weasley turned. "How much did you hear?" He asked as Mrs. Weasley hurried to the fireplace in the living room.
"All of it," she said softly. Mr. Weasley pocketed his wand and, ignoring Pig, picked up the blue book. He gave Terri a measuring look while tapping the book against his hand. Finally, as if deciding something, he nodded. He sat down heavily in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, and gestured to Ron and Terri to do the same.
After they sat down, Mr. Weasley held up the small blue book while Ron and Terri looked at him curiously. "I don't think either of you have seen one of these before, have you?" he asked.
"Ummm...I think I saw a picture in my History of Magic textbook," said Ron hesitantly.
Without taking her eyes off the book, Terri nodded. "I've seen one," she said. "Gavin's sister-in-law sent him one a couple of years after Voldemort disappeared -- she said it was `just in case he's not really gone.'" Terri had thought it was a reference to Gavin's brother, on the missing-presumed-dead list, and not Voldemort. Terri had wondered at the time why she'd send him the book rather than keep it herself against her husband's safe return; she supposed the woman didn't want to be reminded of why the book existed in the first place.
Mr. Weasley nodded, and handed the book to her. Hesitantly, she took it. Much to her surprise, the phoenix on the cover glowed briefly, and she was surrounded by a bright light. When the light dispersed a moment later, she saw Ron looking even more surprised than she felt, and Mr. Weasley looking at her with thoughtful satisfaction. He took the book from her. "Sorry about that," he said. "It has some pretty strong protections on it." With a faint smile, he added, "Don't worry, it decided you're not a threat."
"What IS it?" Ron asked impatiently.
"It's a codebook," Mr. Weasley explained to his son. "And a spellbook. And more. It's a good part of what allowed the Order of the Phoenix to operate secretly, under You-Know-Who's nose in some cases, for as long as we did."
"`We?'" Ron looked at his father with new understanding. "You were part of the Order of the Phoenix?"
"Yes and no," Mr. Weasley replied. "I was never part of the inner circle -- Albus wouldn't hear of it. Not because he didn't trust me, he said, but...." he trailed off, looking thoughtfully at his
son. "He wanted to postpone putting me in any danger as long as possible; he said he wanted to do what he could to make sure he'd see all my children graduate from Hogwarts."
Mr. Weasley put the book on the table. "Using the information in this book," he continued, "we were able to create certain protections, get messages through...slow down You-know-who's
advance. The enchantment on the book let it be automatically updated with new information whenever we needed it." Glancing over at Ron again, he added, "Your grandmother used a similar book when Grindelwald ran rampant."
Almost idly, Mr. Weasley opened the book to the first page. Whatever words had been on that page immediately reformed to a short message: "Lord Voldemort has risen. Please await further instructions." A moment later, a new message formed underneath this one: "An owl interception has been reported. You will receive further instructions later."
"Dad," Ron said, watching the message form, "what would happen if this fell into the wrong hands?"
Mr. Weasley smiled knowingly. "Remember the protections I mentioned?" Ron nodded. "It will Apparate away to a safe place." He closed the book, and added, "This is very powerful magic, by
the way. And very old; the spells used may even date back to Ancient Egypt. I doubt there are more than two dozen of these in the entire world, let alone the United Kingdom."
Just then Mrs. Weasley returned, her face tight with concern. "Albus said he would be here shortly -- something about setting up an alternative to owls."
Pig began fluttering around the kitchen again, seemingly insulted at the implied offense to his species. "Geez, Pig, settle down!" Ron shouted at the bird. "You don't have to take it personally!"
Terri laughed, while Mr. Weasley sat back and stroked his chin. "Hmmm," he began, "I wonder if Albus is planning to use--"
Just then the door to the kitchen opened again, admitting Percy, Charlie, and Deidre, all dressed for the day. Both Weasleys started when they saw the book sitting on the table. Charlie recovered first. "Dad...?" he asked.
Mr. Weasley sighed, got up, and returned the book to its place. "Pig was intercepted," he explained.
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Albus will be here in a little while; he said he wanted to check if anything you received within the past couple of days had been intercepted." Charlie looked startled, then glanced at Terri and Deidre with some concern. "Oh," Mrs. Weasley continued, waving almost dismissively as she started breakfast, "you can still take them around muggle London today if you just leave the messages on the coffee table for Albus to look at."
"I can do that," said Charlie, and left the kitchen to match words to deed.
Percy looked from his mother to his father to the book on the table. "You're sure Pig was intercepted," he said. It was more of a statement than a question.
"Yes." Mr. Weasley looked at Percy. The young wizard looked as if he wanted to say something else, but stopped. The kitchen went silent, except for the sounds of bacon sizzling, eggs frying, and Pig's hooting.
Deidre finally broke the silence. "That smells really good, Mrs. Weasley," she said. "I hope you're planning on fixing a lot. We're all going to need the fuel."
Terri, Deidre, and Charlie ended up catching a bus to London. Terri would not have believed it possible, but during their hours exploring London she was able to push the morning's events almost completely from her mind. The three took in the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace (Deidre wanted to give one of the guards her phone number, but since actually touching the guards was "against the rules," she couldn't sneak the paper with her number into his pocket); the fabulous museum of the Tower of London (which awed Terri even more than the Hall of Armor at the Philadelphia Museum of Art); the Victoria and Albert Museum (which Deidre nearly had to be dragged out of); and as many book stores as their legs would allow. By the time they made it back to the Burrow, it was after dinnertime.
In the living room, Terri saw something new: a muggle telephone. The black, old-fashioned-looking device sat on the coffee table. Its buttons were arranged around its face like a dial, but it was unmistakable. "Like it? Albus and I set it up," said Mr. Weasley, rubbing his hands together in evident delight. "He said we can use it for emergencies, instead of owls." He sighed. "Molly's not happy about it, of course, but it's bloody useful." He grinned conspiratorially. "And when you consider what You-know-who and his allies think of muggles..."
Terri laughed. "Theywon't expect this," she agreed.
Mr. Weasley nodded. "And Albus told me some other plans he has for communications that he thinks You-know-who won't anticipate. That should make planning and coordinating a lot safer than it was last time. Speaking of which --" He withdrew a pocket-watch from his robes, consulted it, and put it back. The smile on his face turned almost predatory. "I need to go meet Perkins," he said. "It's likely I won't be back until sunup."
"More raids?" asked Charlie, concern written all over his face.
"Just one." Mr. Weasley glanced around the living room, which was empty except for him and the new arrivals, then looked toward the kitchen door. His smile dimmed a little. "Tell your mum not to worry, would you, Charlie?"
Charlie bit his lip. Terri noticed it was the same way that his mother bit her lip whenever she was worried. "It's Lucius Malfoy, isn't it?"
"You know I'm not allowed to say who," Mr. Weasley replied. His tone was casual, but Terri heard a definite edge under it. He would brook no argument -- and the American witch suspected he'd been looking forward to this for a long time.
Terri suddenly recalled her recent adventure with the twins in Knockturn Alley. "Wait!" she exclaimed, fearing Mr. Weasley was about to Apparate. At his questioning look, she continued, "Um, I need to tell you something before you go -- er, privately -- and this is really important."
Mr. Weasley looked a bit surprised at that, but nodded. Turning to Charlie, he said, "By the way, Albus checked your messages -- none of them were tampered with, thank Merlin. And an owl came while you were out, with another message for you; that one was also fine. I left it on your desk upstairs."
Charlie nodded, and climbed up the stairs. As soon as he was out of earshot, Mr. Weasley turned back to Terri and Deidre and said, "If this is about a certain someone in Knockturn Alley, don't
worry, I already know."
"Did Fred and George--" Deidre began.
"Actually, they told Albus," Mr. Weasley cut in. "Albus convinced them to tell me." He sighed, and mopped his hand across his brow. "Molly only heard a bit of it, but of course she insisted they be punished. So I confined them to their room for the rest of the day."
As if on cue, a muffled boom! sounded from upstairs. "In retrospect," Mr. Weasley continued unperturbed, "that may not have been the wisest thing to do." Giving each of his American visitors a serious look, he said, "I...have a favor to ask. If you're not too tired, that is?" At Terri's curious look, Mr. Weasley focused on her. "Please...keep Molly company. For a little while, at least. She worries, you know."
Terri gave her cousin what she hoped was a reassuring smile. She's not the only one who worries, she thought, but what she said was, "I'd be glad to. You go get Lucius."
Mr. Weasley's predatory smile returned. "There are times when I really enjoy my job," he muttered, and Disapparated.
A soft creak let Terri and Deidre know that the door to the kitchen had opened. "Has he left yet?" came a meek voice. Mrs. Weasley stood silhouetted in the doorway, a long cotton nightgown
draping her body. "I wanted him to think I was asleep, so I went to bed and then Apparated into the kitchen..." Her cheeks were turning pink.
Deidre grinned, and, settling on the couch, patted a spot next to her. As Mrs. Weasley sat down on the couch, and Terri took one of the chairs, Deidre said, "It's not like you not to speak your
mind, Mrs. Weasley. What's up with this?" At Mrs. Weasley's surprised look, Deidre added, "And yes, I know, I'm being a rude American, asking nosy questions." She shrugged.
Mrs. Weasley sighed, and looked down at her hands in her lap. "Normally, I would," she admitted. She turned her head back up, and looked at both Terri and Deidre before continuing. "But Arthur would go anyway -- heavens, I've lost count of how many raids he's done -- and...well, maybe it's silly, but I didn't want my worries to distract him." She bit her lip. "He'll need all his wits about him tonight."
"I didn't know the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department was so busy," Terri commented.
"Oh my yes!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "And the Ministry of Magic never gives it the budget it needs."
With a few more gentle prods from Deidre and Terri, Mrs. Weasley was soon talking about Mr. Weasley's work, and the raids he had gone on, and what it was like raising a family with him...anything to help distract her from what her husband was doing that night. Tea and pastries kept all three women fortified for hours. Even so, Terri caught Mrs. Weasley sneaking repeated glances at one of the clocks -- the one with markers holding names for all the Weasleys. At that moment, all but two markers pointed at Home: Bill Weasley's, which pointed at Travelling (to Egypt for the Heart of Ra? Terri wondered); and Arthur Weasley's, which pointed at Work. Which is where he was, technically, even if not physically; a raid certainly counted as work. None of the markers pointed to the twelve o'clock position, Mortal Peril. And by the Lord and Lady, may this remain so, Terri fervently hoped.
"That was a present from Arthur's mother, after Bill was born," Mrs. Weasley said idly, as she and Terri looked at the clock. "It's a traditional present, you know; we even call it a grandmother clock." The older witch managed a weak smile as her hand hesitantly reached towards the pointers, not quite touching them. "My mother-in-law said it used to give her great peace of mind. It does for me, too, mostly..." she trailed off, staring at the clock. Her expression changed. Terri turned from Mrs. Weasley to the clock, and quickly discovered the reason. The largest gold pointer, the one with Arthur Weasley's name on it, was quivering. It moved from pointing at Work straight to the 12 o'clock position: Mortal Peril.
It only stayed there for a second, however, then switched back to Work. Then, as if arguing with an unseen force, it moved back to Mortal Peril. The pointer continued this byplay for more than a minute. Mrs. Weasley sank into a chair in the kitchen, never taking her eyes off the clock. She seemed to have forgotten that anything else existed.
"Does it do that often?" Terri asked meekly. Saying anything felt like a terrible intrusion, but she couldn't let this strong woman, who had made her feel so welcome in her home, pull her suffering into herself like this.
Mrs. Weasley shook her head. "On a difficult raid, sometimes it'll quiver near Mortal Peril for a few seconds, then shift back to Work. It must be an argument...or a duel..." The pointer finally stopped. Mrs. Weasley's eyes widened in horror. It had settled on Mortal Peril.
A muffled ringing noise made both women jump. "That's the phone," said Terri quickly, as the one more experienced with Muggle artifacts. "Want me to get it?" She was already moving to the kitchen door as the second ring sounded, not waiting for an answer.
Mrs. Weasley followed. "Who would be -- phoning us? -- at this hour?" she asked dazedly.
Terri grabbed the headset on the third ring, while Deidre and Mrs. Weasley looked on. "The Burrow," she said.
"Professor Weasley?" came a voice.
Terri recognized the voice at once. It wasn't her cousin. "Yes, Professor Dumbledore," she said, making sure both Deidre and Mrs. Weasley heard her.
"I'm pleased to hear your voice, even at this hour. Is Mrs. Weasley well?" Dumbledore asked.
Terri took the hint. "As well as you'd expect. Would you like to talk to her? She's standing right here." At Dumbledore's affirmation, Terri handed the headset over to Mrs. Weasley. The older witch took it awkwardly, holding it upside down and almost too far away from her head before Terri helped her settle it into position. She handled the phone as if it were going to sprout spines at any second.
"Hello?" Mrs. Weasley began hesitantly. "No Albus, he's not back yet...No, it --" her voice faltered. "It just settled on 12 o'clock." A long pause, then, "Arthur didn't tell me that...it's blocking your Scry Glass? But that's...does Fudge know?" Mrs. Weasley's expression suddenly became very cynical, and she sighed. "You're probably right." The cynicism left, to be replaced with surprise. "You're sending who? Albus, this is Ministry business, if the school is seen to be interfering...You can SEND ME, that's what choice you have!...No, I will NOT be reasonable, you know very well what I can do..." There was another long pause. Then Mrs. Weasley took a deep breath. "Yes, I have thought about that, Albus, thank you very much. You can send who you like, but I'm still going...I have a way around that...Yes, it is, and blocking the level of scrying you're using is also illegal...Fine, I'll tell them, but you're not stopping me, and they aren't either." She hung up the phone with a very assertive clunk.
"That sounded bad," Deidre understated.
Mrs. Weasley looked at both of her guests. "Albus wants me to let you know," she said, tight-faced, "that, in his words, I am, quote, `going off on a dangerous mission which could more easily and safely be performed by someone else.' In other words, I'm going to save my husband. And neither of you can stop me, do you understand?"
"Who said anything about stopping you?" Terri asked. She could read Mrs. Weasley like a book; the older witch would wait no longer, but needed to DO something, anything, to get her husband's pointer off of Mortal Peril, and no one and nothing was going to stop her. This mental state had its hazards, though; fortunately, Terri had an answer for that, of a sort. "I'm not stopping you, I'm going with you."
"What?!" exclaimed Mrs. Weasley and Deidre at once. The two women looked at each other for a moment, then turned back to Terri. Mrs. Weasley spoke first. "Terri, this isn't your battle. I have to go -- Arthur is my husband."
"He's also my cousin," Terri reminded her. Never mind that she didn't even know about Arthur Weasley a week ago. She crossed her arms and set her face in a stubborn expression, daring Mrs. Weasley to continue the argument.
But it was Deidre who spoke next. She stood up from the couch and gave Terri a how-could-you-be-so-stupid look. "Do you realize what you're getting yourself into?" she demanded.
"As much as Molly does," Terri replied, shrugging. For just a second, Terri saw Mrs. Weasley's face fall. A-ha. You clearly didn't think this through, and you're just now realizing it, she
thought. Let's see if I can at least get your brain working. Pressing the issue, she turned to the older witch. "How were you planning on getting in and out? I hear the Malfoys are an old wizarding family and have quite an estate; what kinds of wards are we likely to encounter?"
Mrs. Weasley chewed her lip for a moment, then put a hand to her chin. "I did think I would just Apparate, but I can't do that if you're along -- you don't know where it is. Come to think of it,
it's been so long since I've been there I'm not so sure I remember where it is." She made a face, as if her last visit to the Malfoy estate was not a pleasant memory. "And their connection to the Floo network is...how to explain it? Designed to keep the riff-raff out." She made an exaggerated mock-snobbish expression; Terri grinned and Deidre giggled, despite the seriousness of the situation. Suddenly, Mrs. Weasley snapped her fingers. "Ha!" She hurried up the stairs.
Terri followed, gesturing to Deidre to wait. Mrs. Weasley went up only one flight before she opened a door -- it was clearly hers and her husband's bedroom. An old bed with a worn patchwork quilt and a battered wooden headboard dominated the room. Mrs. Weasley stood opening drawers in a bureau, its white paint chipping off in spots. "Where would he put it?" she muttered to herself as she rummaged, pointing her lumos-lit wand into each drawer. When she finally got to one that contained several pairs of socks, she exclaimed in triumph and held up a glass bottle. Her wand revealed that the bottle, about the size of a miniature liquor bottle, was half full of a glittery, sandy substance. "Back before the Ministry of Magic added the ability to Apparate to its job requirements," she explained, "they made a special floo powder. It was for Ministry use only, and it could take agents exactly to the fireplace they wanted, no matter how the place was linked to the Floo network." She shook the bottle and looked at it apprehensively. "After the Apparating requirement was put in place, the Ministry destroyed its stocks of this powder, saying it was a hazard if it should fall into the wrong hands. It's supposed to be illegal to own any of it." She sighed. "Arthur always was a pack rat."
Terri let her breath out. "Well, so we have to make sure we don't get caught with this stuff, but that's one problem solved. What else do we need to worry about?"
"Keeping hidden." Suiting her words to her deeds, Mrs. Weasley put her wand and the bottle down on the bureau, and pulled a dark robe out of a closet, which she tossed over her head. She paused a moment more. "You'll want to get into some dark clothes, too. Those -- what do you call them?"
"Leggings," said Terri, seeing where she was pointing.
"Right. They're black, but that top won't do," Mrs. Weasley explained.
Terri looked down at her bright tie-dyed T-shirt, and waved dismissively. "I can change. Just tell me what else we need to worry about."
Mrs. Weasley took a steadying breath. "There may be one house elf to watch for -- not one belonging to Lucius, he lost that one a couple years ago --"
"How do you lose a house elf?" Terri wondered.
"Long story," Mrs. Weasley said; it was her turn to wave dismissively. "But Narcissa -- that's his wife -- brought one with her into the marriage. It'd be loyal to her; whether it'd guard the estate, though..." she trailed off, lost in thought for a moment. Then her face cleared. "Most of the magical protections likely to be on a fancy estate would guard against theft, so we're fine as long we don't touch anything valuable."
"Do you know where Arthur would be, or will we have to stumble around looking?" Terri asked. She half-hoped that putting it that way would dissuade Mrs. Weasley from this dangerous course of action.
But Mrs. Weasley smiled. "I know where he'd be in mortal peril," she replied. "Arthur mentioned a rumor about a secret chamber under the Malfoy's drawing-room; he must be in there."
Terri nodded. It made sense. "Okay then, let me change my top and I'll meet you downstairs."
Slipping into Ginny's room and going through her luggage took only a moment; while Ginny snored softly, she found the navy blue shirt she was looking for, and quickly changed. Then she grabbed her new rowan wand. She almost left then, but halfway to the door she went back and got her old pine wand, too. Never know when you might need a little extra firepower, she thought as she gently closed the bedroom door behind her.
Mrs. Weasley was waiting for her by the living room fireplace. Deidre held the bottle of Ministry floo powder; as Terri came into the living room, she wiggled the cork out of its neck. "Ready?"
asked Deidre, looking at the other two witches.
"Almost." Terri turned to face Molly. "Just a thought -- we'd better be prepared to cast `Quietus' first whenever we encounter anything or anyone. The last thing we need is some kind of alarm
raised."
Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Well, let's go, then -- we're wasting time." She started a fire in the fireplace with her wand, then pocketed the wand. She held out her hand, palm up, to Deidre, who poured a little of the powder from the bottle into her hand. Terri now saw clearly that the powder glittered gold -- very different from standard floo, which was a sandy color. Taking Terri's hand, Molly tossed the powder into the flames, which turned a deep ruby red -- rather than the standard emerald green. "Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy's!" Molly shouted as she leaped into the fire, taking Terri with her.
Terri barely sensed any movement at all before they landed at a different fireplace, and felt no sense of disorientation whatsoever. This surprised her, but she figured it only made sense: if a Ministry agent expected a hostile reception, he'd best be in a position to have his wits about him. Both witches cautiously lit their wands, then squeezed out of the fireplace.
Terri gasped. Even with only dim light, the American witch could tell that this was the home of an aristocrat. The women stood in an entry hall on a white marble floor, partly covered in Persian rugs. Rich tapestries, separated by wall scones, lined the two long walls to either side. The hall ended in a pair of massive wooden double doors; the light from the wands picked up intricate carving on the doors that Terri thought was the Malfoy coat of arms. Two large, gleaming suits of armor, holding huge pikes and standing on pedestals, flanked the doors.
Mrs. Weasley swallowed, and nudged Terri. "The last time I was here, those two suits of armor announced guests as they entered," she whispered, pointing.
Terri nodded. "I bet they do more than announce guests -- especially unwanted guests," Terri whispered back. She noticed the pikes and shivered. Unsought, her brain began totalling up the
laws she and Molly had already broken: use of illegal floo...breaking and entering...conspiracy to do both of those. Lord and Lady, please don't let this become an international incident, Terri thought, then forced those thoughts away. This is a rescue mission. She held her pine wand in her left hand, and her rowan wand in her right hand, both ready for use. "Get that `Quietus' ready, Molly -- I've heard suits of armor, and they're anything but silent. Hit them the minute they look like they'll move."
Mrs. Weasley nodded, and readied her wand. The moment the two witches stepped onto the first Persian carpet, the visors on the two suits of armor began to raise of their own accord. "Quietus!"
hissed both women, each aiming for the suit on their own side. The suits no longer made any noise, but they did not stop moving. On the contrary, they leaped off their pedestals and crossed their pikes in front of the door.
"Figures," Terri sighed. She looked at Mrs. Weasley, who frowned at the barrier. "We could try `Expelliarmus,' but..."
"I have a better idea." With a fierce grin, the older witch pointed her wand at one of the suits and said "Accio Pike!" The weapon came soaring at her -- sharp end first.
Terri cursed. Barely thinking about what she was doing, she dodged to the side, dropped her wands, and grabbed for the handle of the weapon. She caught it just in time. "Warn me when you do that!" she hissed at Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley stared down at the pike, its tip mere inches from her chest. "But it should have come to me straight up...or handle first, at worst," she murmured.
Terri raised the weapon, and spared it a glance. "Secondary defense system, I bet," she whispered. She looked back at the door guards, and noticed, in the light of Mrs. Weasley's wand, that the one without his pike had raised his arm to cross with the other suit's pike. "We need to reset these guys so they're not in front of the door," she added.
Mrs. Weasley shook herself, coming out of the shock of her near-death experience. "This sort of thing is usually password-protected," she pointed out.
Terri sighed. "Great, so what would the Malfoys use as a password?"
"Hmmm." Mrs. Weasley stepped forward, wand extended.
"Careful!" Terri hissed. "Your last bright idea --"
"Pureblood." The two suits of armor snapped to attention. "Return to your posts," Mrs. Weasley continued. The suit with the pike returned, but the weaponless suit remained in place. It held one of its hands out, as if expecting something.
"The pike." Terri hurried forward, and handed it to Mrs. Weasley. "Wait, don't give it to him yet; I have to get my wands." Terri went back and grabbed her wands from the floor, then scurried back to Mrs. Weasley's side. The older woman handed the pike back to the suit of armor. It took the pike, snapped a salute with it, and returned to the pedestal. "Okay, what next?" Terri asked, pointing at the closed wooden doors.
"Alohomora." The door unlocked at Mrs. Weasley's spell. Guess they figure the armor will take care of any intruders, Terri thought as the two women carefully opened the doors and slipped
through.
Terri gasped. If the entrance hall impressed her, the room that she and Mrs. Weasley were in now took her breath away. It was so big it had two fireplaces, one on the left and one on the right. The light from the two witches' wands revealed rich, stately furniture scattered around the room: a Victorian red velvet fainting couch near one fireplace, a Louis XVI chair near a window, a glass-topped coffee table with a wooden base so elegantly carved it looked almost alive...this was not a living room, but an impressing room. No copies of Witch's Weekly on the
coffee table, Terri thought wryly.
Mrs. Weasley touched her hand; Terri jumped. "We'll need to get to the drawing room; that's just off the dining room. Follow me."
"Are you sure you know how to find it?" Terri asked worriedly. She regretted the question at once. No point getting Molly more upset, she thought.
But Mrs. Weasley only paused briefly, a thoughtful look on her face. "The last time I was here...it was for a wedding reception. It was held in the dining room. Yes, I'm sure I know how to find it." In the weak lighting, it was difficult to read Mrs. Weasley's face, but Terri could clearly hear the irritation in Molly's voice. Somehow, though, she didn't think it was directed at her. Meekly, she nodded, and gestured to the older witch to proceed.
As she fell into step behind Molly, Terri thought she saw some movement in the shadows. She whipped her want over to it, but saw nothing. Just what we need -- a real burglar showing up, she thought. Or Narcissa's house elf developing insomnia and prowling the place...or... "Hssst, Molly," Terri hissed. Molly turned abruptly to face her. "Does Narcissa have a cat?"
Molly shrugged. "Don't know; she seems the type to have one, though." With that vague comment, the two witches proceeded.
The dining hall looked as if it could seat 500 without straining. Terri spared the ceiling a glance, but could not tell whether, like the ceiling in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, it was enchanted. Looking up, the American witch nearly knocked down her companion. Molly had stopped in the center of the room. Her breathing was loud and rapid. "Molly -- what's wrong?" whispered Terri. Molly didn't answer. Terri walked in front of her. "Molly?" Still no answer. Terri finally reached out, put both hands on Molly's shoulders, and squeezed. "Molly!" she said as loudly as she dared.
"Eh?" Mrs. Weasley blinked, and shook herself. She looked at Terri as if noticing her presence for the first time. Then she shook her head again, and put her hand to her forehead. "Sorry...bad
memories..."
"Are they going to affect...what we need to do here?" Terri asked, concern clearly showing in her eyes. It was Molly who started this rescue mission, but if she was going to lose it at a crucial
moment...
"No." Molly returned Terri's look, her face a mask of determination. "The drawing room is this way, to the left. Follow me." Terri let her take the lead, holding both of her own wands at the ready. They approached a well-made oak door, which was closed. Molly held up a hand, and listened at the door. "I can't tell for certain," she whispered, "but I think someone's in there..."
"Come on, it's this way," came a voice...definitely NOT from behind the door!
"Nox," Terri whispered, extinguishing her wands. She dove under the humongus dining room table, with Molly not far behind. Over her pounding heart, Terri heard several pairs of feet approaching. A lit wand, carried by one of the new arrivals, illuminated six legs...all standing no more than three feet away. The American witch hardly dared to breathe.
"Draco...are you sure we should be doing this?" came a voice. It sounded familar...where had Terri heard that voice before?
One of the feet stamped. "Damn it, Vinnie, you heard Greg's father knocking on Professor Snape's door. I'd've never imagined it myself, but yes, Lucius needs back-up against that muggle-loving excuse for a..." He didn't get any further, however; his tirade was halted by the sound of a large object hitting wood, and something landing with a thud and an abrupt exhalation. Light, apparently from the drawing room, spilled out into the dining hall.
"Karkaroff has no part of this!" came a shout across the room. Lucius Malfoy, Terri realized. "Your argument is with me, not him!"
"Is that why he aimed a curse at Perkins?" came a furious response. It had to be Mr. Weasley -- but it was an Arthur Weasley as Terri had never heard him before, in full battle fury. "I'm here on Ministry business, Malfoy -- but if this is personal to you, then let's keep it personal -- just you and me!"
Only the sound of spellcasting followed. Molly gasped. Terri nudged her gently, then pointed to the three pairs of legs near them. Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows as Terri took both her wands and pointed them at two sets of legs. She nodded, and pointed her wand at the third set. In short order, all three were Quieted and Petrified. "They won't even know who hit them, if we're careful," Terri whispered.
The two witches sneaked out from under the table, away from the lads they had subdued. They tried to keep to the shadows as they made their way back to the drawing room. Its door was now wide open; the body of a middle-aged, elegantly goateed man lay sprawled on the floor about twelve feet from the threshhold. He did not appear to be holding a wand. "Arthur always was very disarming," Molly whispered.
Hearing two loud popping noises, the witches shrank back against a wall away from the light coming from the drawing room. Terri didn't recognize one of the figures...but the other one was all too familiar. Severus Snape. Lord and Lady, what's HE doing here? Terri wondered. Just then, another body came hurtling out of the drawing room -- and knocked the person with Snape to the floor. His head hit hard; it looked as though both of them would be down for the count. Snape glanced down at the two unconscious bodies, and raised an eyebrow. "Mr. Goyle, I stand corrected; Lucius Malfoy does indeed need reinforcements."
looked far too old to belong to a 15-year-old.
