Harry Potter and the Wizard's Apprentice

Chapter Four

Failed Negotiations

As the next few days passed, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny spent them mostly as they did the first two-- playing Quidditch and swimming in the surf-- as not to raise Mrs. Weasley's suspicions. However, when inside, they played much less games, and instead used that time to read up on their "assigned" defense subjects. Harry had almost finished the book Ginny gave him. Hermione was rereading their Charms textbook, and outlining different spells on a roll of parchment that was reaching alarming proportions. Ron could be found lying in a corner of the living area, muttering to himself; Harry's Quidditch strategy guide, a chess set, and several diagrams he had drawn spread out around him on the floor. Ginny, Fred, and George often had whispered discussions together-- Ginny taking notes the whole time. If either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley found any of this odd, neither said anything, so the four of them kept on.

Before any of them knew it, an entire week at the beach house had gone by. Fred, George, Bill, and Charlie were all scheduled to leave the next day-- they all needed to get back to their jobs. Mr. Weasley had been spending most of each day at the Ministry, but he had come home early for the going-away dinner Mrs. Weasley had spent the whole day conjuring.

While the twins, Bill, and Charlie were busy packing, Harry and Ron changed into tee shirts and swimming trunks, and walked down to the ocean for a late afternoon swim. It was a few hours later, as they were walking back to the house for dinner, that it happened. A sharp pang, so excruciating that Harry bit his lip to keep from screaming aloud, radiated from his scar, searing his forehead. Harry fell to his knees, clutching his forehead. Pain burned white hot through his skull; he didn't think he could survive if it lasted much longer... then, after a moment that felt like forever, the pain left him as quickly as it arrived. He flopped onto his back, panting, and tears of pain leaked from the corners of his eyes. It was then that Harry remembered that Ron was still there, and he looked around for him.

Ron was standing directly above him, looking horrified. "What do you think it means?" he whispered, almost inaudible. "Could you tell what he was feeling? Like- like before?"

"I dunno..." Harry said shakily, wiping his eyes with trembling hands. "I think it was... determination." He couldn't think of a thing to say to reassure Ron. His scar had been almost dormant all summer, and he didn't want to imagine what this recent episode meant.

"Look, your lip-" Ron said, pointing at Harry's face.

Harry dabbed at his lip with his tee shirt, and it came away bright red from where he had bitten it.

"Mum'll notice that for sure- it's already swelling, mate. D'you think we should tell her what happened?"

Harry shrugged, unable to speak. He attempted to stand, but fell back down to his knees; his head felt like it weighed a ton, and the ground tilted under him. Ron grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet.

"Can you walk?" Ron asked in concern.

"Yeah. It's getting better already, don't worry," Harry lied.

Ron eyed him warily, but led the way to the house, Harry staggering after him.

~*~

When Harry reached the dinner table, after changing into dry clothes, he noticed it was as full as the night of his birthday party. Everyone was already there, exclaiming about how delicious the food looked as they sat around the table, spooning piles of food onto plates. Mrs. Weasley, however, was picking at her own food, pushing it around her plate with a fork. Her eyes were red and her nose was slightly puffy. Harry suspected it was because most of her children were leaving the next day, and he wondered if she was remembering the boggart she saw last year. He and Ron exchanged dark glances, and mentally agreed not to mention Harry's scar to anyone yet; they didn't want to spoil the dinner.

Glancing up, Mrs. Weasley spotted Ron and Harry. "Harry! What happened to your lip? Are you alright dear?"

Harry froze as all eyes turned to him. He had forgotten about his lip already, and hadn't thought of what to tell her yet. He met Ron's eyes again and silently pleaded with him to help.

"Don't worry, Mum. Harry just scraped it when a wave knocked him against the ocean floor."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Ron really was the best mate a person could have.

"It was a rather puny wave, though. Good thing he had me around to save him," Ron continued, rather unnecessarily, in Harry's opinion. Harry glared at Ron, who grinned cheekily back at him. On second thought, Ron really was a great prat.

Harry looked and met Hermione's gaze. She frowned faintly, and Harry shook his head. 'Later,' he mouthed to her, and she nodded. Obviously, she had not been fooled by Ron's story.

Harry turned to his food, and had just stuffed a large piece of chicken in his mouth when he heard the unmistakable 'pop' of someone Apparating into the room behind him. Mrs. Weasley screeched, "PERCY!" and plates of food went flying as she and Mr. Weasley bounded to their feet. It was indeed Percy, but, like Harry, the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione sat speechless, unsure of what action to take.

Percy looked terrible. He was extremely pale; there was a gash across his eyebrow that was dripping blood down the front of his once fancy robes, which were now torn and hanging limply against his frame. Mrs. Weasley enveloped him into a suffocating hug, and the face that stared over her shoulder looked shell-shocked, as if he had seen his worst nightmare come true.

"Dad. Bill. Charlie." He looked at each of them in turn, gently prying Mrs. Weasley's arms away. "There's been an attack at the Ministry. We need you to come right away." Percy spoke stiffly, and Harry could tell he was trying to appear in control, but his voice wavered nonetheless.

Mrs. Weasley gasped, clutching her hand to her chest, and Hermione let out a gasp of air. Bill and Charlie jumped up immediately, followed closely by Fred and George.

"What about us?" George said. "We're of age, we can help."

Mr. Weasley turned to him and Fred quickly. "No, I need you two to stay here with your mother and the other four. If something were to... happen... your mother will need help since the others are still underage." He turned to his wife. "Molly, I'll send word as soon as I can." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, and with four distinct 'pops,' he, Percy, Bill, and Charlie Disapparated. Harry turned back to face the table and exchanged traumatized looks with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. He felt utterly and completely useless.

~*~

The remaining Weasleys, Harry, and Hermione retreated into the living room, dinner forgotten. Harry, Fred, and George took one couch while Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, and Hermione took the other. Ron followed Hermione to the couch and squeezed in next to her, not seeming to notice the tight fit, and no one complained. For the second time that week, the room was so quiet that Harry found himself counting the ticks coming from the mantel clock. The hours passed by like days, and Harry was forcibly reminded of the night Mr. Weasley was taken to St. Mungo's hospital.

Mrs. Weasley was sitting on one end of the couch, her face deathly pale, creating a shocking contrast to her red-rimmed eyes. Ginny sat on her left, absentmindedly patting her mother's arm with her head resting on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. Hermione was on the other side of Ginny, her left hand intertwined with Ron's. Looking up, Harry saw her staring determinedly at him. Almost imperceptibly, she gestured with her right hand at her forehead, her eyes widening slightly. Harry understood what she meant immediately. His scar. He nodded at her and her brow wrinkled in concern.

Hours later, Harry realised he had sunken into a type of half sleep stupor and was pulled back to reality by the sound of hushed whispering. Hermione and Ginny were discussing something quietly and got up off the couch, without disturbing Ron, who appeared to have fallen asleep-- his neck at an odd angle with the couch. Mrs. Weasley was still awake- her eyes were open, anyway, and staring sightlessly at the fire that had burned down to the coals, casting odd shadows over the silent room. Harry glanced over to Fred and George and was surprised to see that they, too, were still awake. Fred had slid down in his seat so that his head was resting on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling as if he hoped to find answers there. George was now leaning forward, elbows on his knees and forehead resting in his hands.

A few minutes later, Hermione and Ginny returned, arms laden with pillows and blankets, Hermione precariously balancing a tray of mugs. Hermione handed Fred and George each a pillow, blanket, and steaming mug-- which turned out to contain hot chocolate. After giving Harry his things, she squeezed his hand to get his attention and motioned for him to join her. Harry stood to follow her and promptly stumbled, his legs so stiff from sitting in one position for hours on end. If not for Hermione's strong grip, he would have fallen onto his face. He followed her out on the back porch where it was so dark she melted into the shadows.

"Hermione?" he queried, unable to see where she went.

"Shh... over here, Harry," came her disembodied voice, somewhere to his left. He followed the sound of her voice until he bumped into something warm and soft.

"Oomph... sorry," he said, after trodding on her foot.

"Never mind that, Harry... tell me, what happened this afternoon? Did your scar hurt you again?"

He nodded, then realised she wouldn't be able to see him in the dark, and went on to quickly explain what happened. After he finished, she was silent for a long time. Eventually he heard a soft, melancholy sigh, and he waited expectantly for her to speak. When she did, her voice was choked and he knew that she was holding back tears.

"I'm just so worried-- not about myself, but for Ron. So many members of his family are wrapped up in fighting Voldemort; the chances that no one will get killed..." Her voice trailed off. Harry waited for her to continue, not knowing quite what to say, if there was anything he could say at all. "I wish I knew what going on, I just can't stand this waiting!" she exclaimed in a frustrated voice. "You haven't dreamed anything lately, have you, Harry?"

"No, I haven't. Ginny gave me this moonstone so I've only had normal--,"

"A moonstone, Harry? They're really valuable. When did she give it to you?"

"Er... the other night, after everyone else had gone to bed."

"Oh," was all she said, her voice unreadable.

"So, when did Ron wizen up?" he asked her, not wanting to get into a conversation about Ginny.

"Oh," she said again, but in a much different voice. Harry would have sworn that he could feel her blushing. "Well, you know, we had a good chance to talk the week before you arrived... he said he didn't want anything to happen to either of us without me knowing how he felt."

"I'm happy for you," Harry said, trying to sound it.

"Thank you. Harry, you're not upset are you? That Ron and I are... are together? You know this won't change things between the three of us."

"I'll only be upset if I see you two snogging at breakfast. It will have to be at least 10 o'clock before I can stomach that," he replied, attempting to force a laugh. Inside though, he knew that it would indeed change things, and he felt a pang of sadness. Hermione seemed to sense this, and, to Harry's great surprise, wrapped him up in a tight hug. He had only hugged Hermione like this a few times before, and then it usually involved her bawling all over his shirt with Harry comforting her, not she comforting him. After a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her in return, and they stood there for several minutes in a comfortable silence. I can't believe how much we've grown up the last few years, Harry thought to himself. He felt a wave of guilt thinking of the anguish Hermione and Ron had probably felt because of him. He silently vowed to protect them better from now on.

"Harry?" Hermione said questioningly, and Harry realised he had her in a tight squeeze.

"Sorry," he said, and dropped his arms quickly. "I guess we'd best go in; I don't want to worry Mrs. Weasley." Hermione said nothing, but followed him inside.

Harry sat back down next to the twins and wrapped himself up in his blanket, feeling chilled suddenly. Hermione settled down in her place between Ginny and Ron. He reached for his hot chocolate left on the small table, and was surprised that it was still warm. Probably charmed to keep its contents hot, he thought to himself. He felt Ginny's eyes on him, but didn't look up to meet them, not wanting to see the worry and the pain there. Instead, he settled his head deeper into the pillow and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. Sleep, however, would not come. His thoughts and plans for the future swirled sickeningly in his mind as he tried to prepare himself mentally for the months ahead.

~*~

It was well after daybreak before anything else significant happened. With an audible bang that cracked like a gunshot through the silent house, Charlie Weasley stood before them in the living room. Harry was startled out of a light doze and jumped up, reaching instinctively for his wand in his back pocket.

"Relax, Harry," Charlie said with a weak smile. Harry looked around the room, and saw the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione staring at him. He flushed deeply, and shoved his wand back into his jeans.

"Right," he muttered, and sat down on the couch. Mrs. Weasley was already up and hugging her son.

"We're okay, Mum, we're all alive," Charlie said, patting her back. He straightened up and looked at her seriously. "But I need to talk to you." He glanced around the room and saw everyone else looking at him expectantly. "Over here," he said, and pulled her out of earshot into the kitchen. The temporary relief Harry felt at hearing that the other Weasleys were alive vanished immediately. Obviously, Charlie was telling Mrs. Weasley something important. Was one of the Weasleys alive, but seriously hurt? Was it someone they knew who had been murdered? What if it was a member of the Order? Harry's chest constricted around his heart, and he could scarcely breathe. Not daring to look at the others for fear of seeing the same thoughts in their faces, he stared down at his hands, waiting.

Without warning, or even an explanation, Mrs. Weasley Disapparated from where she stood in the kitchen, and Charlie staggered back to the living room, plopping without his usual grace into the rocking chair Mr. Weasley had sat in only a few nights earlier. They all waited for an explanation of events anxiously, staring holes into Charlie, who just reclined with his eyes closed. He looked older and more tired than Harry had ever seen him.

"Well?!" Fred exclaimed finally, making them all jump. "Are you going to tell us what's going on or what?"

"There's been an attack at the Ministry," Charlie said unhelpfully.

"Yes, well, we know that already," Ron snapped impatiently.

Charlie sighed and rubbed his forehead with his hand as if trying to erase memories from the night. "Do you lot remember what Dad said about Fudge wanting to negotiate with the Death Eaters?"

"He didn't," Hermione whispered, catching on.

"He did," Charlie said grimly. "Apparently, he had his fireplace connected with one of theirs so that they could "talk"... of course, the Death Eaters never had any intention of following through with negotiations. Fudge left the entire Ministry open to attack. As soon as he made the link with their fireplace, they overpowered him. At least a hundred Death Eaters managed to enter the Ministry through his office before the Floo Network could cut off access to his fireplace."

"That stupid git!" Ron roared, incensed. "That's my family he's putting in danger. The Ministry had better sack him. That-- that--,"

"Well, you don't have to worry about that," Charlie said with a sigh, "because Fudge is dead."

A stunned silence greeted this, and it was several minutes before anyone spoke.

"Who have they got to replace him, then?" Ron whispered, his voice deadly quiet after his outburst a minute earlier.

"Who else was killed?" George asked simultaneously.

"We still don't know the extent of the damage, George," Charlie replied. "They're still trying to... identify bodies. It is a devastating blow; never-- even in the last war-- has there been such an attack that resulted in so many deaths. It was five o'clock, everyone's guard was down, and they were all getting ready to leave for home. On top of everything else, the first thing that the Death Eaters did after entering the Ministry was to cast an enclosure charm over the entire second floor, trapping the Aurors inside. It cost precious minutes before the spell could be broken and the Aurors could escape. Although it probably saved Percy's life-- he was up there at the time-- because the Death Eaters couldn't get inside, either."

"Where's Bill?" Ginny asked.

"He's at St. Mungo's with Fleur," Charlie explained. "She was there on Gringotts business, and got pretty banged up fighting off three Death Eaters, I hear. Everyone seriously hurt was taken there, but it's so full now that those who were well enough to travel were taken to Murrayfield Hospital in Scotland."

"So where did Mum go? Where's Dad?" Fred demanded.

"That's Dad's business, and I'm not going to tell you, so don't badger me about it, Fred," Charlie said stubbornly, cutting off Fred's protests. "Dad sent me here with a sleeping draught. He knows you lot didn't sleep a wink last night and he wants you all to nap until he gets back tonight. Yes, all of you - no arguments," he said sternly, seeing the look on George's face.

Charlie got up and went into the kitchen then, returning with six steaming glasses, and handing them out. Harry hadn't planned to drink his potion, wanting to have his wits about him in case there was an attack on them here in the cabin. He chanced a look at Charlie to see if he noticed, and saw Charlie glaring at him, as if reading his mind. Harry hastily gulped down his potion then, not wanting to face the wrath of an irate dragon-tamer. Almost immediately, Harry felt the sleep draught start to work in his veins and he barely made it back to his bunk, carrying his pillow and blanket, before falling into a heavy sleep.

~*~

The first thing that Harry noticed when he finally awoke was that the sun was already setting. A warm, red light bathed the bedroom and he stretched, feeling peaceful. Then he remembered why he was waking up from a nap to begin with, and sat up quickly. Ron, Fred, and George were still sleeping soundly so he slipped quietly from the top bunk, and crept out into the darkened hall. He had only made it a few feet outside the bedroom when he tripped over something large, and went sprawling.

"Ouch," the large something said.

"Charlie?"

"In my better days..." Charlie muttered, disentangling himself from Harry and standing.

"Why are you on the floor?" Harry asked.

"Watching after you lot, of course. Must've fallen asleep, though. Want to help me fix something for dinner?"

"Sure," Harry replied, letting Charlie help pull him up off the floor.

The next hour would have been quite enjoyable under normal circumstances. Charlie spent the time conjuring up a large roast, and Harry cut up carrots and potatoes with a sharp knife, just as he did in the kitchen at Privet Drive. Soon there were delicious smells emitting from the kitchen, drawing the others from their bedrooms to walk sleepily down the hall.

"Harry, I didn't know you knew how to cook Muggle-style," Ginny said, smiling at him as she busied herself by setting the table.

"Well, yeah, Aunt Petunia always made me help her," he replied.

"That's sweet, Harry, it really is," Fred said, yawning, and sat down at the kitchen table. His hair stuck out in a hundred directions. "Maybe we should get Mum to knit you a Weasley apron instead of a sweater this Christmas."

Harry responded by accidentally dumping carrot peelings on Fred's head.

Soon all seven of them were sitting around the long table eating hungrily; none of them had eaten since the night before. They were a somber group, however, despite the bit of teasing earlier.

They had almost finished dinner when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and to everyone's surprise, Percy showed up. The next few minutes were a storm of red as the Weasleys took turns hugging each other. Harry noticed, though, that Percy was standing awkwardly outside the circle. Harry stood there uncertainly as well, not knowing whether to approach him, when Ginny broke away from the group and said impatiently, "Percy!"

Percy jumped about a foot in the air and turned to face her.

"Get over here, you git," she said, and smiled suddenly. She wrapped her arms around Percy almost as a mother would, and he buried his face in her hair.

"I'm-- I'm so sorry," he mumbled into her shoulder, his voice breaking slightly.

"Don't worry about that now," Mrs. Weasley said sternly, also turning to him. "We will talk about that later. Charlie, we're starved. Is there any food left?"

"Of course, I'll get it. You and dad have a seat."

Everyone settled themselves back around the table. Harry thought how different it seemed having Percy back. Ron looked pale under his freckles and was holding Hermione's hand tightly, but kept glancing at Percy every few minutes as if to make sure he was still there. No one spoke while Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, and Percy finished eating. Finally, Mr. Weasley set his fork down, wiped his mouth on a napkin, and pushed his plate back. Harry felt the tension thicken in the room as Mr. Weasley prepared to talk. Harry knew they were about to find out something enormous, he just couldn't imagine what.

"Well, as I'm sure you all have wheedled some information out of Charlie, I assume you know the gist of what happened at the Ministry." Mr. Weasley paused, glancing around at them as they nodded their consent. "Well, what we didn't find out until sometime later is that there was a simultaneous attack at Azkaban."

Harry heard Hermione gasp, but couldn't take his eyes off Mr. Weasley to look at her.

"Many Death Eaters did escape," Mr. Weasley continued. "Unfortunately, one of those people was Lucius Malfoy, who we think is near the top of the Death Eater hierarchy."

"Do we know who else escaped as well?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

"I do. However, I don't want you all to get bogged down worrying about such details. A Death Eater is a Death Eater as far as you lot should be concerned," Mr. Weasley said sternly. "I know it will be difficult for you who are returning to school to concentrate on your studies during this time, but I want you all to try and forget about the war as much as possible."

Not bloody likely, Harry thought and looked up to meet Ron's eyes. He could tell the redhead was thinking the same thing. Harry knew Mr. Weasley meant well by trying to keep them separate from the horrors going on in the wizarding world, but he did not know about the prophecy. He did not know that Harry was never going to be able to distance himself from the war while Voldemort was still alive. Harry looked up again and this time met Mr. Weasley's unblinking gaze. Harry was just realising that perhaps Mr. Weasley knew more than he let on when Ron spoke, interrupting his thoughts.

"Dad? So who are they going to get to replace Fudge?"

Mr. Weasley tore his gaze from Harry's, looked at his wife, and grasped her hand tightly. Mrs. Weasley nodded at him encouragingly and he sighed, turning to face the rest of them.

"Well...me."