'Ask Harry,' said Fred.
'Yeah, I want to hear this for myself,' said George.
The twins and Ginny were 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, Fred,
George and Ginny 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 just for 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 pyjamas. '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 ashen-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, equally angry. This is how it is - this
is why you're not in the Order - you don't understand - there are things worth
dying for!'
'Easy for you to say, stuck here!' bellowed Fred. 'I don't see you risking
your neck!'
The little colour 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 a shrug, and they sat down too. The twins
glared at Sirius for another minute, then took seats 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 towards
them out of the pantry, skidded along the table, scattering the debris of Sinus'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.
Harry was only drinking to have something to do with his hands. His stomach
was full of horrible hot, bubbling guilt. They would not be here if it were
not for him; they would all still be asleep in bed. And it was no good telling
himself that by raising the alarm he had ensured that Mr Weasley was found,
because there was also the inescapable business of it being he who had attacked
Mr Weasley in the first place.
Don't be stupid, you haven't got fangs, he told himself, trying to keep calm,
though the hand on his Butterbeer bottle was shaking, you were lying in bed,
you weren't attacking anyone:
But then, what just happened in Dumbledore's office? he asked himself. I
felt like I wanted to attack Dumbledore, too:
He put the bottle down a little harder than he meant to, and it slopped over
on to 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 on to 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 mothers 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.
If Harry had ever sat through a longer night than this one, he could not
remember it. Sirius suggested once, without any real conviction, that they all
go to bed, but the Weasleys' looks of disgust were answer enough. They mostly
sat in silence around the table, watching the candle wick sinking lower and
lower into liquid wax, occasionally raising a bottle to their lips, speaking
only to check the time, to wonder aloud what was happening, and to reassure
each other that if there was bad news, they would know straightaway, for Mrs
Weasley must long since have arrived at St Mungo's.
Fred fell into a doze, his head lolling sideways on to his shoulder. Ginny
was curled like a cat on her chair, but her eyes were open; Harry could see
them reflecting the firelight. Ron was sitting with his head in his hands, whether
awake or asleep it was impossible to tell. Harry and Sirius looked at each other
every so often, intruders upon the family grief, waiting: waiting:
At ten past five in the morning by Ron's watch, the kitchen door swung open
and Mrs Weasley entered the kitchen. She was extremely pale, but when they all
turned to look at her, Fred, Ron and Harry half rising from their chairs, 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 into his chair 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.
'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 - seven: bacon and eggs, I think, and some
tea, and toast -'
Harry hurried over to the stove to help. He did not want to intrude on the
Weasleys' happiness and he dreaded the moment when Mrs Weasley would ask him
to recount his vision. However, he had barely taken plates from the dresser
when Mrs Weasley lifted them out of his hands and pulled him into a hug.
'I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry,'
she said in a muffled voice. They might not have found Arthur for hours, and
then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's
been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've
no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis:"
Harry could hardly bear her gratitude, but fortunately she soon released
him to turn to Sirius and thank him for looking after her children through the
night. Sirius said he was very pleased to have been able to help, and hoped
they would all stay with him as long as Mr Weasley was in hospital.
'Oh, Sirius, I'm so grateful: they think he'll be there a little while and
it would be wonderful to be nearer: of course, that might mean we're here for
Christmas.'
The more the merrier!' said Sirius with such obvious sincerity that Mrs Weasley
beamed at him, threw on an apron and began to help with breakfast.
'Sirius,' Harry muttered, unable to stand it a moment longer. 'Can I have
a quick word? Er - now?'
He walked into the dark pantry and Sirius followed. Without preamble, Harry
told his godfather every detail of the vision he had had, including the fact
that he himself had been the snake who had attacked Mr Weasley.
When he paused for breath, Sirius said, 'Did you tell Dumbledore this?'
'Yes,' said Harry impatiently, 'but he didn't tell me what it meant. Well,
he doesn't tell me anything any more.'
'I'm sure he would have told you if it was anything to worry about,' said
Sirius steadily.
'But that's not all,' said Harry, in a voice only a little above a whisper.
'Sirius, I: I think I'm going mad. Back in Dumbledore's office, just before
we took the Portkey: for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake,
I felt like one - my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore - Sirius,
I wanted to attack him!'
He could only see a sliver of Sirius's face; the rest was in darkness.
'It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all,' said Sirius.
'You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and -'
'It wasn't that,' said Harry, shaking his head, 'it was like something rose
up inside me, like there's a snake inside me.'
'You need to sleep,' said Sirius firmly. 'You're going to have breakfast,
then go upstairs to bed, and after lunch you can go and see Arthur with the
others. You're in shock, Harry; you're blaming yourself for something you only
witnessed, and it's lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just
stop worrying.'
He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry, leaving Harry standing
alone in the dark.
* * *
Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morning sleeping. He went up to
the bedroom he and Ron had shared over the last few weeks of summer, but while
Ron crawled into bed and was asleep within minutes, Harry sat fully clothed,
hunched against the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himself deliberately
uncomfortable, determined not to fall into a doze, terrified that he might become
the serpent again in his sleep and wake to find that he had attacked Ron, or
else slithered through the house after one of the others:
When Ron woke up, Harry pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing nap too. Their
trunks arrived from Hogwarts while they were eating lunch, so they could dress
as Muggles for the trip to St Mungo's. Everybody except Harry was riotously
happy and talkative as they changed out of their robes into jeans and sweatshirts.
When Tonks and Mad-Eye turned up to escort them across London, they greeted
them gleefully, laughing at the bowler hat Mad-Eye was wearing at an angle to
conceal his magical eye and assuring him, truthfully, that Tonks, whose hair
was short and bright pink again, would attract far less attention on the Underground.
Tonks was very interested in Harry's vision of the attack on Mr Weasley,
something Harry was not remotely interested in discussing.
There isn't any Seer blood in your family, is there?' she enquired curiously,
as they sat side by side on a train rattling towards the heart of the city.
'No,' said Harry, thinking of Professor Trelawney and feeling insulted.
'No,' said Tonks musingly, 'no, I suppose it's not really prophecy you're
doing, is it? I mean, you're not seeing the future, you're seeing the present:
it's odd, isn't it? Useful, though:'
Harry didn't answer; fortunately, they got out at the next stop, a station
in the very heart of London, and in the bustle of leaving the train he was able
to allow Fred and George to get between himself and Tonks, who was leading the
way. They all followed her up the escalator, Moody clunking along at the back
of the group, his bowler tilted low and one gnarled hand stuck in between the
buttons of his coat, clutching his wand. Harry thought he sensed the concealed
eye staring hard at him. Trying to avoid any more questions about his dream,
he asked Mad-Eye where St Mungo's was hidden.
'Not far from here,' grunted Moody as they stepped out into the wintry air
on a broad store-lined street packed with Christmas shoppers. He pushed Harry
a little ahead of him and stumped along just behind; Harry knew the eye was
rolling in all directions under the tilted hat. 'Wasn't easy to find a good
location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't
have it underground like the Ministry - wouldn't be healthy. In the end they
managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was, sick wizards could come
and go and just blend in with the crowd.'