PART 7: So Much for Romance
This part dedicated to Ines, my new wife ;-)
Transformed to Padfoot once more, Sirius raced down the stairs, Remus right behind. They burst into the Leaky Cauldron’s main room, scanning the pandemonium for Harry. “I don’t see him,” Remus hissed. Instantly, Padfoot leapt ahead, dodging around the feet of the shrieking multitude and into the street. Moments later he reappeared in the doorway, barking frantically. Remus’s hand went to his throat. “Harry-“ He needed a bit more time to get past the crowd than Sirius had, but soon he too was outside.
The panic inside the Leaky Cauldron was nothing compared to the bedlam in the street. People poured out of shops all along Diagon Alley – and immediately found themselves too packed to run. Honestly, you wouldn’t think a single one of them was a competent practitioner of magick. You certainly wouldn’t imagine that almost all of them had been extensively trained in combating creatures like river trolls.
And where the hell was Harry?
The troll could be heard thundering around the end of the street, just near the wall that separated Diagon Alley from Muggle London. Oh, great. If the creature made it to the Muggle side of the wall, that would really make the day complete, wouldn’t it?
“Where is he?” Remus demanded.
Padfoot’s teeth clamped down on his robe, pulling him forward – towards the troll. Yes. Harry would be in the thick of it. They raced forward, uncaring of the witches and wizards they had to shove out of their way as they went.
“Harry!”
Harry stood at the mouth of the alley, holding his wand in a defensive grip. The troll’s footsteps were louder here. Harry barely spared them a glance. “It was sort of an automatic reaction, running forward,” he panted. “I didn’t stop to consider how close it would put me.”
“I understand,” Remus assured him, drawing his own wand. “Padfoot, I hate to say it, but I think you’re going to have to transform back.”
Harry stare at him. “Remus!”
“He’s not much use to us like this, Harry. We need three wands.” He glanced briefly over his shoulder at the chaos behind them. “None of them will notice.” He looked down at the dog. “Siri?”
Padfoot dashed across the alley into a shadowed alcove. Seconds later, he reemerged as Sirius, wand at the ready. “I hate river trolls,” he muttered. “Hi, Harry.”
Compared to the mountain troll Harry had faced his first year, river trolls were smaller, smarter, and more vicious. They also smelled worse, a fetid, moldy smell like dead fish left too long in a warm room. The three men raised their wands and waited, thinking that the best they could hope for was to get out of Diagon Alley alive.
“Harry!”
Harry’s hand dropped to his side, his green eyes wide behind his glasses. “Ron?”
The tall redhead dashed out of the crowd. “What in Merlin’s name is going on?”
“River troll,” Remus said darkly, his concern for the matter at hand overriding, at present, his shock at Ron’s presence.
“Professor?” Ron asked in amazement. Then he noticed, for the first time, the third member of the trio. “Sirius!”
“Shh!” Harry hissed. “Ron, what are you doing here?”
“I had the strangest feeling you were in trouble. That note you left wasn’t exactly comforting. I all but forced Dumbledore to tell me where you’d gone and demanded he Floo me here at once.” He looked towards the rapidly approaching troll-steps and grimaced, his expression one small part wry amusement and one large part queasiness. “Looks like I was right.”
“You can bask in your victory later,” snapped Sirius. “For the moment, get ready to fight a very large, very nasty creature.”
“My wand-“
“Oh, bugger! I forgot!” Harry reached into the pocket of his robe. He pulled out the long box and tossed it to Ron. “So much for romance.”
“What is this?” Ron asked, staring blankly at the box.
“Your new wand. I got it for you today. Was going to give it to you in some suitably mushy fashion on your birthday. But I think it’s needed now.”
“I’d say.” Ron flung the box open and pulled out the wand. “Merlin’s beard, Harry-“
“Admire the workmanship some other time, Ron,” Remus suggested.
“Right. River trolls.” Casting the box away behind him, Ron took up a place by Harry’s left side, and the four men waited, shoulder to shoulder, to do battle with one of the wizarding world’s meaner denizens.
When the creature finally rounded the corner that allowed them to see it, they practically passed out from the smell. “Oh, gods,” Sirius whined.
“Wait a minute,” Remus told him. “You’ll get so saturated by it you won’t be able to smell it anymore.”
“Great.”
“It’s so small.” Harry couldn’t get his blinking back down to normal speed.
“Don’t let that fool you.” Remus flipped his long hair over his shoulders and raised his wand arm. “That small size means it can actually maneuver.”
“How the hell does a river troll get into Diagon Alley, anyway?” asked Ron.
“Good question,” said Remus. The troll stopped a few feet in front of them and let out a blood-curdling roar. “One which I suggest we look into some other time!”
The troll lunged.
Four spells hit it at once, but they barely seemed to slow it down; it shook them off and began advancing again before Harry had time to properly note what they’d flung. They all aimed and cast again. Nothing. What was worse, now the troll was mad.
“We’re just making it angry,” Sirius said as he flung another spell.
“Any suggestions?”
“Last time we stuck a wand up its nose,” Ron offered.
That almost got a laugh out of Remus. “Not something I suggest trying again, but, yes, a more physical response might work.” He looked around; despite being embroiled in a battle against a river troll, no one seemed to be paying them any mind. “All right. Padfoot, run ‘round behind and...do something to it.”
“Do something?” Sirius demanded. “Now, look, Moony; just because I-“
“Go, Paddy.”
Suddenly, the dog stood in the man’s place, and he raced around behind the troll.
“Is that safe?” Harry asked as his godfather worried the troll’s heels.
“Not particularly. Did you have any other ideas?”
Harry shook his head. He had to admit that Sirius seemed to be distracting the troll quite nicely – and getting it flustered. Its control began to slip away; its movements became erratic. Which might make it easier to combat, but was certainly going to make it more dangerous, as well.
“Padfoot!” Remus shouted. “Look out!” The dog leapt away just in time to avoid the troll’s club as it crashed down towards his head. He lunged in for another bite at the troll’s lower leg. The creature roared in pain and stumbled away from Padfoot – and directly towards a brick wall.
“Now!” Ron yelled, and though they’d had no plan, the instant he said it, they knew what they were going to do. Raising their wands in unison, they threw an unbalancing spell at their opponent.
The troll stumbled, staggered, pitched forward. The dog raced out of its path. The troll went over hard, its head crashing through the brick wall. It roared, and twitched, and lay still.
Padfoot and his companions cautiously approached the motionless creature. “Is it dead?” Ron asked.
Remus shook his head. “No. It takes a lot more than a brick wall to kill a river troll.” He reached his wand out.
“Remus, what are you doing?” Harry demanded, appalled.
Remus poked the troll experimentally with his wand. The creature twitched minutely but did not rouse. “Out cold. Someone from the Ministry will be along shortly, I would imagine. They’re trained in dealing with this sort of thing. But in case it takes them a while – Petrificus totalus.” The troll stopped twitching and lay still on the flagstones.
A short wisp of a witch in turquoise robes approached them, every step looking like a battle against turning and running away. “Is it dead?” she asked.
“No,” they answered in unison.
The woman looked at them in shock, and her small blue eyes widened as they landed on Harry.
“Oh, no,” he muttered.
“Harry Potter!” she exclaimed.
“Ron-“ Remus whispered, and Ron needed no further urging. Edging himself between Harry and the witch, he rotated Harry towards the only available exit. While Padfoot barked playfully at her (well, they knew he was being playful, but the witch looked on the verge of fainting dead away), they hustled out of Diagon Alley.
And directly into the streets of Muggle London.
Ron looked around, blinking in the fading late afternoon sunlight. “Whoops.”
*
PART 8: Trying to Blend
Fortunately, the entrance to Diagon Alley was situated so that Muggles couldn’t just stumble across it. Unfortunately, they were stuck on this side of the wall and couldn’t very well go back; the crowd that had gathered wouldn’t let Harry simply walk away, and it was crucial that they avoid drawing attention to themselves.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Remus said dryly.
“First thing: robes off.” Sirius began fumbling with the fastenings of his robes. Harry and Ron stared as though he had finally gone ‘round that last bend. “Come on,” he said impatiently. “Off with them.”
Remus was staring, too. He stepped forward and put his hands over Sirius’s. “Your hands are shaking.”
“Well, there was this river troll...“
“Here. Let me help you.” As he worked the fastenings for Sirius, Remus looked at Ron and Harry, who hadn’t moved. “What are you waiting for?”
“We’re in our Hogwarts uniforms,” Harry said. “We’ll look hopelessly parochial.”
Remus pushed Sirius’s robe off his shoulder and kissed him softly. “Better?”
Sirius placed a light kiss on Remus’s forehead. “Thank you, love.” He looked at the younger men. “Far better to look any amount of parochial than to step onto that street in your robes.”
Finally catching on, the boys stripped their robes off with a speed that made Remus wonder how often they had need of getting naked. But the robes were gone, that was the important thing, and though they wouldn’t pass a thorough inspection – Sirius’s thin white t-shirt was hardly appropriate attire for early fall; Remus’s brown sweater was so stretched he could’ve kept a friend in its sleeves; and Ron and Harry’s Hogwarts crests would have raised all manner of questions - the average Muggle-about-town probably wouldn’t give them a second glance.
Just as soon as – “Hang on a bit, Ron,” Harry said, reaching towards the redhead. “Your hair’s gone funny.” In the frenzy of rushing after a river troll, Ron’s long hair had worked free of its tieback. After making an attempt to tuck it all back in, Harry settled for yanking the band off (earning a yelp from Ron) and redoing the whole thing. “There,” he said. “Practically presentable.”
“What next?” Sirius inquired of the world at large as they emerged from the alley into the street.
“We could go to your house,” Harry suggested, laughing quietly at Ron’s glowering acceptance of his ministrations and grabbing Ron’s hand to remind him he didn’t mean anything by it.
Remus looked over at him. He'd forgotten that, for safety reasons, no one had ever been told where he and Sirius lived. “Our house is on the wizarding side,” he told Harry. “In Wales.”
“Oh. Portkey, then?”
Sirius shook his head. “Too much attention from the wizarding side.”
“What we need,” Remus mused, “is a house on this side that’s connected to the Floo Network.”
Instantly, Ron blushed. “Hey, Harry, did we ever disconnect the...you know.”
Harry turned just as red. “No, I, ah, don’t think we quite got around to it.”
The older men looked at them accusingly. “What are you talking about?” Sirius demanded.
Harry kept his gaze trained on the street ahead of them. “When the Weasleys took me to the Quidditch World Cup before fourth year, they connected the Dursleys’ fireplace so they could come get me. Ron and I promised we’d disconnect it, but...well, it made things awfully convenient during the summers, and—“
Chuckling, Remus waved his hand. “It’s all right, Harry; no need to finish.” He laughed again and shook his head. “To the Dursleys’, then.”
Harry stopped in the middle of the street. “Oh, Remus, no! There’s got to be someplace else we can go.”
“It’s close; it’s safe; it’s the last place anyone would expect us to be.”
“But it’s the Dursleys!”
“Cheer up, Harry,” Sirius said, slinging an arm around his godson’s shoulders. “It’s the middle of the afternoon on a Thursday. Who’s going to be home?”
Ron and Harry exchanged an appalled glance and replied in unison, “Aunt Petunia.”
* * *
For a moment it looked as though they’d been wrong. And Harry wanted so badly to be wrong. From beneath a planter of geraniums he pulled out the spare key Aunt Petunia had hidden for Dudley, who, being a great plank, was forever losing his house keys. Slipping it into the lock, he opened the door slowly and called, softly, in hopes that if anyone were home they wouldn’t hear, “Hullo? Aunt Petunia? Uncle Vernon? It’s Harry.”
No answer. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and motioned the others in. Ron led the way to the fireplace, where Sirius groaned, “We haven’t any Floo Powder.”
Ron grinned. “We do.” He pointed at a hideously ugly urn on the mantelpiece. “Isn’t it awful? Harry told the Dursleys it was the remains of a dearly departed familiar, and he wanted to keep the ashes someplace he’d always be able to see them and remember. It was a brilliant performance. Somebody should’ve given him an award for it.”
“They fell for that?” Sirius asked incredulously.
“They were afraid I was going to cry,” Harry said, laughing. “I’ve discovered they don’t know what to do with me when I do that.”
“We’ll need a fire, then.” Remus looked at Ron. “Ron? Care to? To see what that new wand of yours can do.”
Ron nodded and pulled the wand from his pocket. “Incendio!” All four jumped back as an enormous flame roared up in the grate. Ron looked at his wand with newfound respect. “A bit stronger than my old one, then.”
“WHAT IS GOING ON IN HERE?”
The men froze. “Shit,” Sirius muttered.
Harry plastered on the fakest smile he had and turned towards the new voice. “Good afternoon, Aunt Petunia.”
Petunia looked a little crazed as she stormed into the room. “You!” she shrieked, and, really, she could’ve meant any of them. “What have we told you about bringing that...that abomination into our house?”
“Really, Mrs Dursley,” Ron said mildly, pocketing his wand again, “I have got a name.”
Harry snickered despite himself and glared at Ron. Sirius tried to inject his own brand of soothing. “Petunia, we were just passing through, and—“
“I know you,” she said sharply, and then her eyes swung to Remus. “I know both of you. You were the groomsmen when \ my sister married that Potter.” She glared suspiciously at Sirius. “I’d heard you’d come to a bad end.”
Sirius grinned and dropped his hand onto Remus’s ass. “The worst imaginable.”
“Cut that out!” Remus batted the hand away and turned to the mantel, grabbing a pinch of Floo Powder from the urn. “We’re terribly sorry to have inconvenienced you, Petunia,” he said. “We’ll be going now.” He fixed a burning glare at Sirius. “Won’t we, Padfoot?”
Sirius shrugged happily and took his own measure of the powder. “The Wishing Well, do you think?”
Remus looked at Ron. “D’you think?”
Sirius sighed. “I know it doesn’t seem the best of ideas, but I think it’s the logical next stop.”
Remus considered for a moment and then nodded. “Let’s get on, then.”
Sirius tossed his Floo Powder into the fire and announced, “The Wishing Well!” into the green flames before disappearing.
Petunia’s eyes grew ever wider. “Now see here!” she shrieked. “You can’t just – just go around breaking into people’s homes—“
“I had a key,” Harry said.
“—and then disappearing!”
“Oh, I think we can,” Ron countered. “The Wishing Well!”
“I demand that you leave my house at once!”
“What d’you think we’re trying to do?” Harry asked as Remus vanished in the flames.
“Through the door, boy! The normal way!”
Harry shrugged. “This is normal, for us.” He waved and tossed his Floo Powder into the fire. “Love to Vernon and Dudley!” The flames flared green. “The Wishing Well!”
His parting vision of Petunia with her mouth gaping open in futile indignation and her eyes wide enough to burst was going to keep Harry smiling for years.
*
PART 9: The Wishing Well
This part dedicated to Indus.
Though Harry was ready to curse whatever Fate had decreed that he would have to travel by Floo Powder twice in one day, anything was worth being out of the Dursleys’ house. He climbed out of the fireplace he’d landed in, dusted himself off, and looked around curiously.
He and Ron had heard plenty of stories about the Wishing Well. It was a well-hidden house – not more than a score of people in the wizarding world knew it existed, never mind where it was – that was used as a stopping place for Order members on missions, or those who needed somewhere to hide or to work uninterrupted on projects. It was a necessity of war, and no one stayed for more than a month.
Which was why Harry hadn’t expected it to be so...homey.
It was small, as it was seldom needed for more than two people and the many, many cats that called it home. And yet, the house was warm, filled with large, comfortable-looking chairs and thick carpeting. Dishes of potpourri and vases of flowers dotted mantelpieces and end tables. It was, Harry imagined, what the Burrow would be like without the constant intrusion of nine Weasleys.
Or rather, seven Weasleys, as two of them were at present staring at each other in some shock from opposite sides of the coffee table.
“Ron?”
“Bill?”
“I’d no idea.” Remus turned to Sirius. “Had you?”
Sirius’s gaze fell immediately to the floor. “I...might have heard...something.”
Remus rolled his eyes. “Honestly, Padfoot.”
“I should have known you two couldn’t go out together without getting in some sort of trouble,” Bill said. “But what are you doing dragging my brother into it?” He looked briefly away from Ron. “Harry, too? Hey, Harry.”
“‘Lo, Bill,” Harry said, rather stunned at finding him here.
“For real, now,” Bill insisted. “What are you doing here?”
“There was a river troll,” Sirius said petulantly.
“Oh, heavens,” Bill muttered. “Which one of you is injured?” Sirius raised his hand slightly, while Remus pointed hastily to his mate. Bill sighed and rolled his eyes. “Of course. Come with me, Sirius.”
“I’ll be fine, Bill,” Sirius insisted.
“Sirius Black, walk.”
“Fine." Sirius headed towards the kitchen. "No need to get your knickers in a twist.”
Ron’s mouth was hanging open. He hadn’t moved since he’d spotted his brother. “Ron?” Harry asked.
“It’s – it’s Bill.” he whispered. “And Sirius is taking orders from him. From Bill.”
“I think the fact that it’s Bill means something very different to the Order than it does to you.”
Ron snorted. “Don’t be daft, Harry; Bill’s nothing to do with the Order. He works for the bank!”
The elder Weasley stopped between kitchen and drawing room, blushing. “Actually, Ron, the truth is—“
Ron shook his head. “No way. You work for Gringotts in Egypt.”
Bill fingered his earring nervously. “That’s my cover, yeah.”
“But you were there. We came to visit you and everything.”
Bill’s hand scratched at the back of his neck. “Yeah. That was hell to pull together; I’m indebted to the Cairo office ‘til the end of time for covering me.”
Ron swayed. “I’m feeling a bit off-balance.”
Remus touched his arm. “Later. We should be getting ready.”
“Ready?” Bill’s eyes narrowed. “You’re leaving now? On your crazed mission?” Harry, Sirius, and Remus nodded uncomfortably. “And you think you’re taking my brother with you?” He took a step towards Sirius, and Harry remembered that Bill always had been the least predictable of the Weasley children. “This was your idea, wasn’t it, Black? Well, you can forget it.”
“We don’t have a choice, Bill,” Sirius insisted.
“The hell you don’t,” he snapped. “Remus!” Remus stepped forward, but Bill’s eyes never left Sirius. “The traveling packs are in the spare room. Take one for yourself and one for Sirius, but leave Ron and Harry out of it.”
“We can’t do that, Bill,” Remus said softly. “Harry’s the only one who can replace James, and Ron’s got to be the fourth.”
“He most certainly does not!” Bill’s voice was sharp and dangerous.
“He’s got the wand,” Harry offered.
“What wand?” Bill stared at him as though he’d just said Ron had a couple of extra heads.
“Never mind,” Remus said. “Look, Bill, there isn’t time to argue. We have to get ready to leave.”
“Leave?” Ron asked. “Where are we going? Why is he talking about traveling packs?”
Bill stopped in the middle of the room, the light glittering off his dangling earring making him look impossibly menacing. “You haven’t told him?”
“There was a river troll!”
“Sirius, go sit in the kitchen and be quiet.”
“All right; I’m going.” Sirius stomped out of the room.
Bill’s eyes zeroed in on Remus. “Now, Remus?”
“Sirius is right, Bill,” he insisted. “Things have been moving rather faster than we expected.”
Bill pointed at Harry. “Third room on the left, Harry. Go explain it to him.”
At once, Harry understood why Sirius and Remus followed this man’s orders without a peep. He was so much like his mother it was terrifying. “Right away, Bill,” he said, grabbing Ron’s sleeve and hauling him down the hall to the room indicated.
“All right, Harry, what’s this all about?” Ron asked, shutting the door and leaning against it.
Harry sat on the bed. Now that he knew who was occupying the house, he kept noticing small signs of Bill’s presence, including the picture he’d seen dozens of times, of the whole grinning Weasley family – including Scabbers – in front of the pyramids. Ron saw the picture, too, and gravitated to it. “All a sham,” he whispered.
“He’s still Bill.“
“I’m glad he’s important to the Order, but—“ He shook his head. “My brother, the secret agent.”
Harry laughed softly and patted the bed. “Please sit?”
Ron eyed him narrowly but came and sat. Harry took one of Ron’s hands in both of his own, focusing on its warmth to help him get started. “There is a cell of Voldemort’s supporters,” he began, and slowly began to tell Ron the tale of his afternoon. At one point, as he described the events that transpired at Ollivander’s shop, he paused, stunned. Had he really only left Hogwarts three hours ago?
When Harry finished talking, Ron gently extracted his hand and rose from the bed, pushing it through his hair and walking to the window. “They’re going to repeat the Mesmer Infidelis?”
“Yes.”
“And they want us?”
“Looks as if.” Harry’s hands gripped each other in his lap.
Ron shook his head. “I can’t say as I’m flattered; if it was the four of them the last time—“
“You weren’t their first choice to replace Peter,” Harry hastened to assure him. “Remus went on and on about incompatible magicks, but really I think he’s just afraid of your mum.”
Ron chuckled. “With good reason. Who was their first choice?”
Harry smiled wryly. “Neville.”
That got another bark of laughter from Ron. “He’s too afraid of my mum to involve me, but he was willing to face down Hermione if anything happened to Nev?”
Harry laughed, too. “I don’t think he knows about that.”
“Ah.” Ron nodded. “I can’t think of anything more dangerous, Harry.”
“I know.”
“We’d have to walk right up to an entire cell of You-Know-Who’s army and...and try to convince them that he’s brainwashed them and they’d rather work for us.”
“Doesn’t sound so good when you put it like that, does it?”
Ron shook his head. “I can’t think of a better way to put it. No wonder Bill doesn’t want me to go.”
Harry crossed to the window and stood in front of Ron. “You’ve got the wand.”
“I do, at that.” Ron pulled the wand from his back pocket and looked it over carefully. “Gods, but it’s beautiful.” He frowned. “And possibly cursed.”
“Not cursed.” Harry shook his head. “Fated.”
“I doubt that’s a different we’ll notice if the thing gets us all killed.”
“Ron, I don’t know what else to say to convince you.”
“Tell me what you want, Harry.”
Harry raised his eyes to meet Ron’s. “I want you safe. But I want you with me, too.” He rubbed his hand across his eyes. “And I know I can’t have both.”
Ron caught Harry’s hand and kissed the palm. “I have to say, I’m not exactly skipping about at the idea of you running off on a quest like this without me.” He shrugged and tightened his grip on Harry’s hand. “So I’ll come. And we’ll keep each other as safe as we can.”
Harry’s face broke into a dazzling grin. “Thank you, Ron,” he whispered.
Ron sighed. “The things I do for you, Harry Potter...”
“For the Order, Ron.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “I’m not in love with the Order.” He leaned down and kissed Harry. “I guess I can console myself with the knowledge that, should anything happen to me, you’ll have to tell my mother. And Bill.”
Harry groaned and rested his forehead on Ron’s shoulder. “Please don’t jinx us before we even get on the road.” Then he smiled brightly. “I do love you, you know.”
“Yes, you goose,” Ron laughed, “I know it very well.” He kissed Harry again, more insistently, and Harry pressed desperately against him.
There was a knock and a discreet cough at the door. “Ron? Harry?” Sirius called. “You decent?”
Huffing in frustration, Ron pulled away and crossed to the door. “Well, we’re dressed,” he said, opening it a crack. “The ship sailed on ‘decent’ a long time ago.”
Behind Sirius, Remus laughed. “Let us in, then. It’s time we were on our way – if you’re coming with us, Ron?”
Ron met Harry’s eyes across the small room, and he smiled. “Yes, Remus. I’m coming.”
“All right, then.” Sirius pushed around Ron and into the room.
Bill remained out in the hall, scowling. “You’re really going, then?”
“Looks that way.”
Bill shoved his long hair off his face. “You’re a bloody pack of dolts, the whole lot of you!”
“Of that, I have no doubt!” Sirius said cheefully.
Ron stood before his brother. “Please, Bill, please don’t tell Mum.”
Bill snorted. “As if I would. I’m no fool, Ron. But, by Merlin, if anything happens to you—“
“We’ll be fine,” Ron said more convincingly than he felt.
“You’ll be dead, is what you’ll be,” Bill muttered darkly.
In half an hour, while Bill continued to protest fiercely, the four men were outfitted for their journey and on the road to an unknown fate.
*