Future Shock

Chapter Three: Hidden Messages

"Come on, Ron!" shouted Harry outside the bathroom door. "I think the everybody is leaving already!"

"Well go on yourself, then. This is taking longer than I thought to wrap."

"What could you possibly be wrapping inside a bathroom?"

"Hermione's special Christmas present."

A silence descended across the door. A moment later, Ron yanked open the door and glared at Harry. "Not what you're thinking!"

Harry stared back. "If you say so!"

"Come in and see it if you like!"

Harry held back. "Are you sure?"

Ron grabbed his wrist and yanked Harry inside.

The conversation continued behind the bathroom door.

"Well, what do you think?" asked Ron.

"Two things," said Harry. "One, Wesley's presence here has made you entirely shameless, and two, Hermione's going to kill you."

"No, she won't!"

"Oh, yes she will!"

"It's a perfectly good gift! Open it up and have a look if you don't believe me!"

"Oh, no! I'm not touching Hermione's lingerie, I'm-"

"The box is a joke, you idiot! Fred's idea."

"Fred would probably think it funny if Hermione killed you."

"Open it!"

There was a rustle of paper. "Perfume?" said Harry at last. There was a pop of a bottle opening. "Forest Lily. How sweet! But Hermione is going to kill you before she opens the box."

"I can beg for my life convincingly."

"And Wesley has made you entirely shameless."

"I'll have to remember to thank Wesley someday. Here, hold the ribbon down while I tie the bow."

There was more paper rustling, and then the bathroom door opened. Ron scampered out and hid the present under his bed.

Harry stopped short at the landing, listening to the silence of the house. The sound of a departing Volkswagon was on the edge of hearing. He scowled. "Ron! They left without us, you git!"

Ron came out from his room, staring at Harry seriously. "I know."

"You did that deliberately?" Harry yelled in disbelief. "Why?"

"Because, we don't want you and Ginny together until we talk to you separately," said Ron. "We had a family conference."

Harry spluttered.

"Let's go down to the kitchen," said Ron. "Mum suggested milk and cookies."

Harry followed Ron into the kitchen and stood staring while Ron prepared the snacks, and set two glass and two plates on the table. Harry didn't sit down until Ron did, and he kept staring until the boy could delay no further, and had to speak.

"Harry, we know how you feel about Ginny," said Ron, diving in. "It's no secret. Even You-Know-Who-" Here, he stumbled, but he pressed on, "He knew exactly how to hurt you the most."

Harry looked away. "You want me to stay away from your little sister?"

"No!" Ron exclaimed. "We're happy for you and her, although Mum things you two are a little young." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, at our age, we're perfectly legal to... Anyway, we're okay with you and her. You're like family already. But... Ginny's gone through hell. And so have you, many times over, but never with her... conscious."

Harry shivered and looked away.

Ron twisted a napkin in his hands. "They should have had Percy do this. He'd be better at it. But he's the one talking to Ginny."

"What's he telling her, you think?" Harry muttered.

"Look, you know Ginny's having nightmares," said Ron. "But Hermione told me that she's not just having nightmares about herself. She's having nightmares about you."

"Me?" Harry stared at him.

"Ginny talks in her sleep. She keeps saying... She's afraid of what you'd do because of her."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say. Ron couldn't help him. The silence weighed upon them before Ron found the strength to break it.

"I think, the worst thing you two can do is avoid each other, right now," he said at last. "That would be a victory for You-Know-Who. Hermione thinks that you two should be careful. Ginny's a minefield of hurt, and I can only imagine what you're like with all you've seen. A false move could be a disaster for both of you. The rest of the family agrees with the both of us."

"I find it creepy that you'd have a family conference about me," said Harry.

"Look, all that we're saying is that we know that you two can... help each other," said Ron. "We also know that if things go wrong, you two could hurt each other even more. So, we just want to tell you: go for it. But go slow."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I will."

"And, for God's sake, don't ever let me catch you snogging her."

Harry grinned. "No worries."

Both boys breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and drained the last of their milk. After putting their plates and glasses in the sink, they stepped into the hallway.

"Has everybody left?" asked Ron. "Hermione was going to stay behind, so that she and I could... do some studying."

Harry let that comment slide. He was looking around the house, listening hard, frowning. "No. She was here with me when I went up to get you. She'd gone to have a heart-to-heart talk to Wesley. Plenty of those going around the house, these days. She can't have left so quickly. Maybe they went together?"

"No, they haven't gone out," said Ron. "Their boots are still here." He pointed to the shoe-rack by the front door.

"Wesley?" called Harry. "Hermione?"

"Where did they go?" Ron muttered.

"Maybe they're still in the back yard, but neither of them took their coats."

"Let's have a look out the window to see if they're still talking."

They went to the living room and peered out into the dusk. The snow was starting to accumulate over the grass. Hermione and Wesley's slippered footprints showed up as dark impressions against the snow. Ron sagged back down on the couch. "Poor Wesley has so many problems."

Harry kept staring out the window. "Ron?"

"I can hardly imagine it," Ron continued. "To have both your parents killed, and then to be suddenly pulled into a life that you know nothing about." He frowned. That did sound familiar, now that he said it out loud.

Harry prodded Ron's shoulder. "Ron, look at this."

Ron turned around and followed Harry's stare into the back yard. "Harry, what's so important about a set of footsteps in the back yard?" he demanded.

"Have another look," said Harry. "Two sets of footsteps leading out into middle of the yard. None coming back."

Ron looked. Then he bolted from the window and ran out the back door. "Hermione! Wesley! Where are you?"

Harry followed him and stopped at the back porch.

Ron dashed around the yard, calling their names. He looked at the back gate, but no footsteps led there. The pathway to the front was also clean. "Hermione!"

"Ron?"

Ron pulled apart the bushes, and jerked his hand back when one of the gnomes nipped at him. "Ow! Hermione!"

Harry was still standing on the back porch. "Ron, are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay!" he shouted, rounding on him. "Other than the fact that my girlfriend and future son have gone missing from my family home, everything is just fine!"

Harry stared at him. "The reason why I'm asking is because your shoes are on fire."

"What?" Ron looked down. Sparks danced around the soles of his shoes. "Yow!"

He jumped about, trying to put out the sparks, not noticing that they did not burn his feet. They left an impression on the ground which glowed yellow. Finally, Ron jumped onto the back porch and stood, gasping. Harry stared at his footprints on the snow. "You've left letters behind."

In the trodden snow, words sparkled. Ron stared. "This is one of Wesley's tricks."

"First. Spell. On. Me," read Harry. "First spell on me. Have you any idea what that means?"

Ron frowned in thought. "If that's Wesley talking, then the first spell - the only spell - I used on him was-" He snorted. "Of course. Aparecium, the poor man's Veritaserum that renders invisible ink visible."

"Let's try it." Harry pointed his wand at the ground. "Aparecium!"

The snow flared. Letters, about six inches in height, began to glow. The words scrolled across the garden from the back hedge to the porch. Harry started reading.

"'Ron, our Voldemort has kidnapped Hermione and told me to come to him immediately if I want to see her alive. He told me to come alone.'"

"Is he nuts?" Ron cut in. "Doesn't he realize it's a trap?"

Harry read on. "'Yes, I know it's a trap.'"

Ron snorted. "Oh, great, and he goes anyway. Alone. Good thinking, Wesley!"

"Stop interrupting me," said Harry. He turned back to the letter. "'I know precisely why he wants to see me. I have analyzed the port key that Voldemort told me to use. It's designed to self-destruct after I use it, but I've figured out where it leads. The parchment that has just appeared at your feet gives you directions on how to send help. Be careful, won't you? And don't dawdle. Sincerely, Wesley.'"

Ron shook his head and started to say something, but Harry held up his hand. "Wait, there's more. 'P.S. Voldemort made it quite clear that he'd kill Hermione if he caught whiff of 'treachery', so be extra discrete.'"

Harry picked up the paper that had appeared at his feet. "It's all here. And he says he's put us some distance away so we can sneak up on Voldemort's hideout. What should we do?"

"Rescue Wesley and Hermione, of course," said Ron. "What else?"

"What about telling everybody else where we're going?"

"It could be hours before they come back," said Ron. "Anything can happen in that time. We'll leave these directions for Dad, and he can send help after us. But we have to go now!"

Harry nodded. "I'll leave a note." He darted back into the house.

"Hurry up!" Ron shouted after him.

Harry grabbed a piece of parchment from the kitchen table. Scribbling on it, he placed it with Wesley's directions on the parlour door and held both pages in place with a magnetizing charm.

"Harry, come on!"

Harry stepped back, staring at what he'd written. "And don't dawdle," he muttered under his breath. Then he turned and ran to join Ron in the backyard.

When Harry was by him, Ron activated the port key.

A rush of wind caught at the bushes and kicked up swirls of snow.

Then the Burrow stood empty.