A Journey Through the Floo
Chapter four- A Journey Through the Floo
Life at the Burrow was as different as possible from the life on Private Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and in ordered; the Weasleys' house burst with the strange and unexpected. Harry hated the mess, constantly fighting the urge to clean because every time he clean one thing, four more dirty things replace it. He laughed when Haiden got yelled at by a mirror over the kitchen mantelpiece to tuck his shirt in. Harry hated the ghoul in the attic because it constantly howled and dropped pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet.
The only room he could actually stand to stay in longer than five minutes was the twins room, the only room that was some what organized and cleaned, and the room he slept in, though the random explosions from failed experiments kept them on their toes, even if it was perfectly normal. What Harry founds most unusual about life at the Burrow, however, wasn't the talking mirror or the clanking ghoul: It was the fact the everyone there, besides Ron, seemed to like him and treated him and Haiden as equals. To them him and his brothers were both just little boys that needed a family.
Mrs. Weasley fussed over the state of their socks and tried to force both of them to eat fourth helpings at every meal. Mr. Weasley liked for Harry to sit near him, if not next to him, at the dinner table so that he could bombard him and his brother with questions about life with Muggles, asking them to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked.
“Fascinating.” He would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone, it seemed to Harry that Mr. Weasley's favorite word around him and his brother. “Ingenious, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic.”
Harry and Haiden heard from Hogwarts one Sunday morning about a week after they had arrived at the Burrow. Him and the Weasley Twins went down to breakfast, meeting Ron and Haiden on the stairs, to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Ginny already sitting at the kitchen table. Harry loved watching Ginny's reaction whenever she say Haiden, they were always hilarious to him. This morning, the moment Ginny saw Haiden, she knocked her porridge bowl in to the floor with a loud clatter. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing red like Draco's always did when Harry was around him.
“You okay, Ginny?” Harry asked innocently causing the red of Ginny's face to deepen to match her hair. Ginny 'eep'ed and mumbled something as he took a buttered piece of toast Mrs. Weasley offered him.
“Letters from school.” Mr. Weasley said as he handed them all identical envelops of yellowish parchment, addressed in green ink. “Dumbledore already knows you're here, boys- don't miss a trick, that man.” For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Harry's letter told him to catch the Hogwarts Express as usual from King's Cross stations on September first. There was also a list of the new books he'd need for the coming year.
SECOND YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:
The Standard book of Spells (Grade 2) by Miranda Goshawk
Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart
Gadded with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Holidays with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart
Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart
Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart
Wandering with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart
Year with Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart
Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Harry's. “You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!” He said with a slight sneer. “The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan- bet it's witch.” At this point, Fred caught his mother's eyes and quickly busied himself with the marmalade.
“That lot won't come cheap.” George said worried as he gave a quick look at his parents. “Lockhart's books are really expensive...”
“I could help.” Harry said but Mrs. Weasley shook her head with a smile.
“Thank you dear, but we couldn't allow you to do that, we'll manage, we always do. I expect we'll get be able to pick up a lot of Ginny's things secondhand.”
“Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?” Haiden asked Ginny. She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately no one saw this except Harry, because just then Ron's elder brother Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his sweater vest.
“Morning, all.” Percy said briskly “Lovely day.” He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a molting, gray feather duster- at least that was what Harry thought it was, until he saw that it was breathing.
“Errol!” Ron cried, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under it's wing. “Finally- he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote her saying we were going to try and rescue from the Dursleys.” He told Haiden as he carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off again so Ron laid him on the draining bored instead, muttering, “Pathetic.” Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it out loud:
“'Dear Ron, and Haiden and Harry if you are there, I'm hopping everything went all right and that Haiden and Harry are both okay and that you didn't do anything illegal to get him out, Ron, because that would get them both into trouble, too. I've been really worried and if Haiden and Harry are all right, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl because I think another delivery might finish your one off. I'm very busy with schoolwork, of course'- How can she be?” Ron asked in horror. “We're on vacation!- 'and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley? Let me know what's happening as soon as you can. Love from Hermione.”
“Well, that fits in nicely, we can go and get all your things then, too.” Mrs. Weasley said as she started to clear the table. “What're you all up to today?” Haiden, Ron, Fred, and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from view of the village below, meaning they could practice Quidditch there, as long ad they didn't fly too high.
They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown over the village; instead they threw apples for one another to catch. They took turns riding Haiden's Nimbus Two Thousand, which was easily the best broom; Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies. Harry refused to fly on the broomsticks, he didn't like the sensation they gave him, it was almost like it was the wrong sensation.
Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders with Harry walking, broom-less, between Fred and George, he was going just to watch and collect apples for them. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he had said he was busy. Harry had only seen Percy at mealtimes so far; he stayed shut in his room the rest of the time.
“Wish I knew what he was up to.” Fred said, frowning. “He's not himself. His exam results came the day before we got you; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated at all.”
“Ordinary Wizarding Levels,” George explained absentmindedly at Haiden's puzzled look. “Bill got twelve, too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame.” Harry had been told by Fred and George who Bill is. Bill is the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Harry had never met either of them, but knew, thanks the Fred and George, that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill was in Egypt working for the wizard's bank, Gringotts.
“Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our stuff this year.” George said as he lazily killed off the ground and began to float in the air, laying on his broom. “Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything...” Harry opened his mouth but closed his mouth again as he remembered what Mrs. Weasley said this morning and closed his mouth. He wanted to help them pay for their stuff since he had the money, but he didn't want Mrs. Weasley mad at him. Maybe he could find away without her knowing.
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Mrs. Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs. Weasley took a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.
“We're running low, Arthur.” She sighed. “We'll have to buy more today... Ah well, guests first! After you, Harry dear!” She offered him the flowerpot. Harry stared at them all watching him.
“I don't know what I'm suppose to do.” Harry said a little ashamed, he had read about this but, he didn't understand what he was suppose to do.
“They've never traveled by Floo powder before.” Ron said before turning to smile apologetically at Haiden. “Sorry, Haiden, I forgot.”
“Never?” Mr. Weasley asked eagerly. “Were there escapators? How exactly-”
“Arthur, not now.” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear goodness me, if you've never used it before-”
“He'll be all right, Mum, Harry's a quick learner.” Fred said proudly. “Harry, Haiden, watch us first.” He took a pinch of the glittering powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fire, and threw the powder into the flames. With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, “Diagon Alley!” and vanished.
“You must speak clearly, dear.” Mrs. Weasley told them as George dipped his hand into the flowerpot. “An be sure to get out at the right gate....”
“The right what?” Harry asked nervously as the fire roared and whipped George out of sight, too.
“Well, there are and awful lot of wizard fires to choose from, you know, but as long as you've spoken clearly-”
“Molly, dear, they'll be fine, don't fuss.” Mr. Weasley said helping himself to Floo powder, too.
“But, dear, if one of them gets lost, how would we ever explain to his aunt and uncle?”
“They wouldn't mind.” Haiden reassured her.
“Dudley would think it was a brilliant joke if we got lost up a chimney, don't worry about that-” Harry muttered.
“Well... all right... you go after Arthur.” Mrs. Weasley said. “Now, when you get into the fire, say where you're going.”
“And keep your elbows tucked in.” Ron advised Haiden.
“And your eyes shut.” Mrs Weasley warned. “The soot-”
“Don't fidget,” Ron told Haiden, “or you might fall out of the wrong fireplace-”
“But don't panic and get out too early; wait until you see Fred and George.” Trying hard to file everything away, Harry took a pinch of Floo powder and walked to the edge of the fire. He took a deep breath, scattered the powder into the flames, and stepped forward; the fire felt like a warm breeze; he opened his mouth too soon and immediately swallowed a lot of hot ash.
“D-Dia-gon Alley.” He coughed out. Harry instantly hated the feeling of Floo-ing, it felt as though he was being sucked down a giant drain. He seemed to be spinning very fast- the roaring in his ears was deafening- he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of green flames, along with the sensation Floo-ing gave him, mad him feel sick- something hard knocked his elbow and he tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning- now it felt as though cold hands were slapping his face- squinting his eyes he saw a blurred stream of fireplaces and snatched glimpses of rooms beyond- his bacon sandwiches were churning inside him- he closed his eyes again wishing it would stop, and then it did. He fell, face forward, onto cold stone and felt the cartilage in his nose snap.
Dizzy, bruised, broken nose, and covered in soot, he got gingerly to his feet, holding his bleeding nose to try and stop the bleeding. He was alone, but where was he, he had no idea. All he could tell was that he was standing in the stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard shop- but nothing in here was ever likely to be on a Hogwarts school list.
A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a bloodstained pack of cards, and a staring glass eyes. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. The dark, narrow street Harry could see through the dusty shop window was definitely not Diagon Alley. The feeling the shop was giving him nearly split him in half, one half wanted to soak up as much as he could, the other half wanted to leave and never come back. Harry stumbled towards the door, and as soon as he got there, it opened to show Draco and Lucius Malfoy, and relief flooded through him.
“Harry?” Draco asked in confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought you were with the Weasleys.”
“I tried Floo-ing for the first time so we could get our school supplies. I don't like the Floo.” Harry said grabbing Draco's arm, holding on to it for dear life. “Where am I?”
“No where, you need to be, Harry. Touch nothing.” Lucius said, voice hardened, resting a hand on Harry's shoulder for a second before walking forward with Draco and Harry following him.
“Why are we here father? I thought you said you were going to buy me a present.” Draco asked gently pulling his arm from Harry's hold so that he could wrap his arm around Harry to pull him closer as they got to the counter.
“I said I would buy you a racing broom.” Lucius said ringing the bell on the counter.
“What's the good of that if I'm not on the House team?” Draco asked looking sulky and bad-tempered. “Harry's brother got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He's not ever that good, just because he's famous... famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead.” He pouted and Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's shoulder, noting that Draco had grown taller, and hugged him causing Draco to tighten his hold around his waist. “... everyone thanks he's so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick-”
“You have told me this at least a dozen times already.” Lucius said sounding as if he wished to be able to roll his eyes, before giving Draco a quelling look. “And I would remind you that it is not- prudent- to appear less than fond of Haiden, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear- ah, Mr. Borgin.” A stooping man had appeared behind the counter, smoothing his greasy hair back from his face.
“Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again.” Mr. Borgin said in a voice as oily as his hair. “Delighted- and young Master Malfoy, too- charmed. And who is this young master with you?”
“A family friend.” Lucius said in a voice that commanded the man speak no more about Harry.
“How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-” Mr. Borgin started an oily smile on his face.
“I'm not buying today, Mr. Borgin, but selling.” Lucius said.
“Selling?” Mr. Borgin asked, his smile slipping quickly from his face.
“You have heard, of course, that the Ministry is conducting more raids,” Lucius said taking a roll of parchment from his inside pocket and unraveling it for Mr. Borgin to read. “I've a few- ah” he glanced down at Draco and Harry awkwardly, “-items at home that might embarrass me, if the Ministry were to call...” Mr. Borgin fixed a pair of pince-nez to his nose and looked down at the list.
“The Ministry wouldn't presume to trouble you, sir, surely?” Mr. Borgin said and Harry watched as Lucius gripped his hand and curled his lip.
“I have not been visited yet. The name Malfoy still commands a certain respect, yet the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. There are rumors about a new Muggle Protection Act- no doubt that flea-bitten, Muggle-loving fool Arthur Weasley is behind it.” Harry bit his lip to keep from speaking up to defend Mr. Weasley, knowing that it would make Lucius look bad and he did not want that. “And a certain Potions Master has started an -uh- Act of his own that will be causing more attention to the both of us.” Harry looked at Lucius curious, what could Severus be doing that would cause both him and Lucius to gain the attention of the Ministry? “And as you can see, certain of the poisons might make it appear-”
“I understand, sir, of course.” Mr. Borgin said. “Let me see...”
“Can I have that?” Draco suddenly asked, pointing to the withered hand on its cushion.
“Ah, the Hand of Glory!” Mr. Borgin said, abandoning Lucius's list and scurrying around the counter to Draco and Harry. “Insert a candle and it gives light only to the holder! Best friend for thieves and plunderers! Your son has fine taste, sir.”
“I hope my son will amount to more than a thief or a plunderer, Borgin.” Lucius said coldly.
“No offense, sir, no offense meant-” Mr. Borgin said quickly.
“Though if his grades don't pick up,” Lucius said give Draco a reprimanding look, “that me indeed be all he is fit for-”
“It's not my fault,” Draco pouted. “The teachers all have favorites, like Harry, here, and that Hermione Granger-”
“I would have thought that you'd be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam.” Lucius snapped and Harry bit back a laugh at the look Draco had on his face.
“It's the same all over.” Mr. Borgin cut in. “Wizard blood is counting for less everywhere-”
“Not with me.” Lucius snapped.
“No, sir, not with me, sir.” Mr. Borgin said with a deep bow.
“In that case, perhaps we can return to my list.” Lucius said shortly. “I am in something of a hurry, Borgin, I have important business elsewhere today.”