Without Wand or Wire

"Come on now, Perce, easy does it," Arthur told his son, leading him gently by the arm through the front door of Grimmauld Place, all his other sons (save his youngest), as well as Fluer, Lee, Alicia, Katie, and Angelina, following excitedly behind.

Molly and Ginny were just coming down from helping Poppy, heading to the kitchen to check on Draco, when they saw them coming in. Molly let out an unintelligible cry and hurried to the door, throwing her arms around her prodigal son.

Ginny waited impatiently behind her, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She had been very close to Percy before his estrangement, and she'd missed him terribly. Seeing him welcomed back into the Weasley fold managed to chase away the gloom that had settled on her so firmly since the start of the summer holiday -- or at least hold it at bay for the moment.

"Saved Dumbledore's life, he did, Moll!" Arthur was telling his wife, beaming.

For once, Percy seemed embarrassed by the praise, and didn’t boast of his exploit.

His brothers seemed more than willing to pick up the slack.

"You should have seen it, Mum!" Fred began.

"Yeah, it was excellent!" George chimed in, grinning. "You-Know-Who had Dumbledore in his sights--"

"--but Dumbledore was looking the other way--" Lee, who was affectionately referred to as the third Weasley twin, continued.

"And Percy knocked him out of harm's way with a flying tackle!" Bill finished, startling Lee and the twins into silence, before they broke out in laughter. The rest of the crowd followed suit.

"Goodness, let's get out of the doorway and get my brave boy taken care of!" Molly said, wiping happy tears from her eyes before leading Percy up the stairs infirmary. Arthur and Ginny followed, while the rest of the group headed into the kitchen to scare up a celebratory meal.

Percy had a badly bruised shoulder from his hard landing on the ground during the rescue. Poppy gave him a balm for it; it couldn’t instantly heal the injury, but it sped the healing process considerably, and also numbed the pain. Thanking her, Arthur ushered his son and daughter out the door. Molly stayed to help Poppy with the incoming injured, who had started arriving in a flood.

Ginny noticed the moment she walked into the kitchen that someone was missing. She thought at first that it was just Ron and Hermione, but she quickly realised that Malfoy wasn't where they had left him. Not wanting to spoil the revelry, she went back up the stairs alone, peeking in each of the rooms. It took her a while, but finally there was nowhere left to look, save the attic. Sure enough, when she reached the landing, she found the door open. Heart thumping, remembering that Malfoy had tried to get Buckbeak killed in his third year, Ginny assumed the worst: that Buckbeak had taken one look at his pale, sneering face, and stomped him to death.

When she stepped into the room, all the lamps in the room, including one on the wall near the door, sprang to life, startling and half-blinding her for a moment. Why had they done that? No light anywhere in the house had ever lit for her without her wand and a command of "Lumos" before. ...

[Ginny goes into the attic, and the lamps come on ...]

She didn’t give it another thought, though, once her eyes cleared of spots. For when she found Draco's body prone beneath the standing hippogriff, her one concern was that her theory had indeed come to pass: Buckbeak had finished the Bouncing Ferret off.

* * *

Petunia looked about nervously as her passengers got out of her car, glad that no one could see them on the pitch-dark street. She knew she shouldn’t feel ashamed of her companions, but old habits died hard. She was certain they must look suspicious, and didn’t want anyone, even a street full of strangers, to think she was up to something unsavory. She let out a sharp, high squeak when the dark-haired man made her car vanish. It made her terribly uneasy to think she would have to ask him to make it re-appear if she ever wanted to drive it again.

"Wow! I've never managed to Vanish anything even remotely that big! You know, sometimes I wish I could use a wand. ..." the woman -- What had her name been? Something bizarre, like Fairy? -- remarked. Then she turned her attention to Petunia. "Here, read this. Not out loud!" she added quickly, holding out a slip of paper.

Her hand shaking as she took it, Petunia obeyed. The handwriting looked familiar. ...The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is found at 12 Grimmauld Place, London. Petunia let out another little squeak of terror as the wall in front of her began to stretch, shoving the doors of two homes aside while a third appeared. He companions hurried inside, and she reluctantly followed.

She just barely managed to resist the temptation to pound on the door and scream to be let back out when it closed behind her. She wasn't helped in this endeavor when she heard the sounds of laughter coming from somewhere below; it was not at all comforting to know she was now trapped in a house full of wizards. Certainly, the situation had been much the same at Diagon Alley, but it hadn’t seemed so oppressive, so "Through the Looking Glass" there. Moving bricks was much easier to accept than walls that could melt like taffy and doors that leapt about like cats.

The only thing that was allowing her to keep herself pulled together was the thought that her nephew, the last living piece of her sister, needed her.

"Poppy!" The dark-haired wizard (What was his name? Snake? Snipe? Tripe?) called out as he made his way into the house with his now-visible burden, having undone the Disillusionment Charm the moment he'd stepped into the house. The Glamour had also disappeared from him, as well as from Faelyn. (Snape half thought the Glamour had been rather unnecessary in the first place, but he wasn't about to admit that to Fae. …)

Snape ducked into the drawing room, and saw Madame Pomfrey rising from her place at the bedside of an injured wizard. Seeing the ashen-faced Potter limp in the DADA teacher's arms, she hurried over with Molly, and directed the newcomers to an empty bed.

"What happened?" she breathed. "Surely Albus didn’t allow Potter to fight with the others tonight?"

Ron's brow furrowed as he asked the school nurse, "Fight? Others?" He looked around the room, just now noticing the other injured wizards in there. He saw a worried Lupin and Shacklebolt and a strange woman with short purple hair sitting at one bed, blocking his view of the actual occupant. He wondered nervously who it was, and what was wrong with them -- he considered many wizards in the Order to be like family by now, and the thought of any of them in peril made his stomach do loops. "What's been going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry yourself over," Molly told him, steering both him and Hermione by the shoulder towards the door. "Go down into the kitchen. Off with you now," she snapped, when Ron dug his heels in. "You're in the way here!" And she closed the door in their faces.

Ron looked like he was about to barge right back in, but Hermione stayed him with a touch to his arm. "She's right, Ron; whatever's wrong with Harry, there's nothing we can do to help. Maybe we'll get some answers at least downstairs." They could hear laughter and cheering coming from down below.

Sparing one last worried look for the infirmary door, he nodded, and turned to follow.

* * *

Heedless of the hippogriff -- she could believe Buckbeak might hurt someone, but didn’t feel she was in any danger herself -- Ginny rushed to the side of the fallen Malfoy, fearing the worst. To her relief (even if he was Malfoy), she found a pulse, and noted that he was breathing, albeit very shallowly. A cursory inspection revealed no apparent injuries, his face as unmarred as ever, unless once counted the faint scowl that graced it.

What's more, Buckbeak did not seem at all upset at the boy's presence, but instead was nudging Draco's still form with his massive head, and plucking gently at the boy's sleeve as he trilled inquisitively.

Ginny stroked the eagle-horse's head comfortingly, wishing the animal could talk and tell her what had happened. What should she do? Get help for him, certainly, but she didn’t want Buckbeak to get into trouble. If he really had attacked Malfoy again, his keepers might not be so understanding this time.

Sighing because she knew there was nothing else for it, Ginny stood up, ready to go track down an adult that wasn't preoccupied with tending to the wounded. As she stood, she caught sight of something on the other side of Draco, something clutched in his hand.

A dusty old stuffed bunny? What on earth was he doing with that?

Shaking her head at yet another odd development to her day, Ginny set off back down the stairs. She spotted Ron and Hermione when she reached the first floor, their backs turned to her as they went to go down into the kitchen.

Perfect! "Ron, Hermione! Is Harry here?"

Ron offered his sister a sad smile, and gestured to the drawing room door. "He's in there. Madame Pomfrey is looking after him."

Ginny had been approaching them, and stopped short, staring at the door in alarm, before she moved to open it. "In the infirmary? What's he need looking after for?!"

Ron stopped her, taking hold of her arm. "We don’t know exactly. His scar started hurting him so badly that he passed out. When he came to ..." Ron shook his head, still not believing what happened.

"Well, we don’t know exactly what happened," Hermione continued, "but he was really upset, and tried to run off, and when we tried to stop him, he ... he threw us all across the room!"

Ginny scowled, both concerned and confused. "What do you mean, threw you across the room? And who's 'us all'? And why didn’t you tell me you were going to go meet Harry today, I would have gone with you!" She'd thought Ron was just on another impromptu date with Hermione.

"We didn’t plan it!" Ron protested. "We met up with him and his aunt by accident, and ended up spending the day with them! And then we met Fae at the Leaky Cauldron, and she and Tom helped us when Harry collapsed the first time--"

"Wait, Cousin Fae? And what do you mean, when he collapsed the first time?!"

"Yes, Cousin Fae!" he told her, getting exasperated at constantly being interrupted. "And I was telling you, after her knocked us all over, he ran out. When he reached the stairs, I guess he had another attack, case the next thing I knew, he was at the bottom, with his face covered in blood, and Snape was picking him up."

"Snape? What was he doing there?"

"Well, I'd tell you if you’d shut up and give me a chance to!" he snapped, and the portraits began to wail.

The door flew open, and, as if summoned by the sound of his name, Snape poked his head out. "Would you kindly take it elsewhere?!" he snarled, as he went to quiet the paintings.

They beat a hasty retreat up the stairs.

"Oh, that reminds me, I need your help in the attic!" Ginny told them as they went. Ron and Hermione shrugged; that seemed the best place to talk without worry of disturbing anyone anyway.

* * *

"Poppy! We need you here!" a witch called desperately from one corner of the room.

Madam Pomfrey hadn’t gotten a chance to take a good look at Harry yet, but as he didn’t seem to be in mortal peril and the other patient was, she asked Snape to excuse her. He nodded, and she hurried off. Mrs. Weasley was also helping another patient, though she kept throwing worried glances Harry's way.

Petunia wrung her hands as she watched the nurse leave. "But ... what about Harry?!"

"He'll be all right 'till she gets back," Fae told her soothingly. "Why don’t yeh come sit down?" She led the dazed and frightened Muggle to the bed to the left of Harry's, and sat next to her.

Lupin, in the meantime, had snapped to attention at the sound of Harry's name. Looking about, he quickly spotted the boy and hurried over. "Severus, what's happened?!"

"It seems young Potter's curse scar gave him a front row seat to the battle," Snape answered grimly, as he removed the impromptu sling from around Harry's neck and arm and handed the shawl back to Faelyn. He rolled back the injured arm's sleeve, and abruptly hissed at the sight. He turned to Mrs. Dursley, his eyes flashing murderously. "What did you do to him?!" he snarled.

* * *

Ron followed Ginny into the attic, stopping short in the doorway when he spotted Malfoy lying just beyond it. Hermione walked right into him, her nose connecting painfully with his back.

"Ow! What did you stop for, you great oaf!" she chided, swatting at him.

He gave a strangled "Ginny's killed Malfoy!" in reply.

"What?! Move out of the way, will you!" she shoved her way past, nearly stepping on Draco herself, and let out a little squeak. "Ginny, you didn't!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Really, you two, get a grip! He's not dead, he's just unconscious. I found him up here like this not five minutes ago! In fact, I was coming down to get someone to help when I ran into the both of you."

Buckbeak let out a trill, tossing his head, and Ron looked at the creature, warily. "You don’t think Buckbeak? ..."

"I don’t think so, but I'm not sure. Buckbeak doesn't seem upset or anything, and I think he would have trampled Malfoy past recognition if he was actually angry. As it is, he only seems unconscious."

"What's Malfoy doing here in the first place?" Hermione asked as she knelt by the boy's still form. "And I mean in the house period, not just the attic!"

"Don’t know, really," Ginny answered. "The Order had some sort of mission tonight, but they wouldn’t tell me much. Lupin brought Malfoy here, then went off again with hardly a word. And Malfoy was catatonic when he got here -- I guess he was in shock from a battle or something."

"Well then, maybe he was hurt in a fight?" Hermione offered. "Although to be honest, Ginny's right, it doesn’t look like there's anything wrong with him, physically or magically."

"Well, whether he was or wasn't, why bring him here?" Ron asked as he came around to Draco's other side. "And what's that he's holding?" Ron added as he knelt down and plucked an object from Draco's hand. "Hah! A stuffed bunny? Who knew Malfoy was such a baby!"

Buckbeak let out an angry squawk and charged forward. Ron fell back with a cry, holding his arm before him protectively, the bunny dangling from his hand. Buckbeak snatched the toy up and promptly dropped it on Draco's chest. He gave Ron what could only be described as a warning glance.

"I ... I-I guess Buckbeak reeeally wants Malfoy to have that," Hermione managed weakly, her heart still pounding.

* * *

Petunia stared at the wizard with wide, frightened eyes, her mouth working soundlessly; she had no idea what the man was talking about. Fae, not having seen what it was that had prompted such a reaction in Snape, scowled at him.

Lupin hadn’t seen what had upset Snape either, but he did see who Snape had shouted at, and straightened in surprise. Grimmauld Place was the last place he ever would have expected to see Petunia Dursley. He didn’t have an opportunity to muse about the happenstance though, his attention caught by Snape suddenly tugging off Harry's shirt, a bit roughly. He was about to reprimand the man, when he got an eyeful of Harry's torso. Petunia and Fae had seen it too, the first woman letting out a yelp of horror, while the other kept her own revulsion silent with a hand to her mouth.

Harry's somewhat emaciated body was covered with circles and sinuous, crisscrossing lines of varying thickness. The worst of them were shiny, like worms; others were just faint, darkish marks. A few were not yet healed, and one on his arm was even brand-new. A handful of them were peaking from beneath his jeans, suggesting that the damage extended all over his body.

Lupin's eyes were welling with tears. "Petunia, you didn't!" he whispered. "Please tell me you didn't! You couldn’t have hated Lily and the rest of us so much as you'd take it out on him. ..."

She let out a strangled sound, her own eyes brimming, as she stood up. "You don’t think I did this?! How do I know your lot didn't do this, Remus?!" Her hands were trembling balled fists at her sides.

"Because we’re not the ones who kept him locked in a cupboard for over a decade!" Snape spat, rising.

Fae and Lupin looked back and forth at Snape and Petunia, each looking ill. They had known Harry hadn’t had the best life with the Dursleys, but neither of them had heard about that. And if they really thought about it, Snape being so protective of Harry seemed a bit odd in it's own right. But it wasn't the time to wonder about such things -- or for Snape and Fae to wonder how Lupin and Mrs. Dursley knew each other's first names. ...

"What's going on?" Molly hissed, stomping over to them. "There are injured people trying to rest in here!" She glared at the three adults as if they were her errant children. Then her eyes fell on The Boy.

"Harry!" Molly rushed to his side. She reached out to touch him, but hesitated, afraid of hurting him, as if all the injuries were new. She spun on Petunia, livid. "You! How could you do something like this?! He's just a boy!"

"I'm telling you, I didn't--"

"What kind of a monster are you?!" Molly continued, not giving the other woman any slack. "Why Arthur thinks Muggles are so wonderful, I'll never know, because if they're anything like you, maybe Vol--" she stopped short, her face white as a sheet. "Merlin," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. She looked down, bringing her hands to her temples. "I wasn't ... I'd never--"

"Shhh, we know, Molly," Lupin told her, as he drew her into his arms, where she began to cry in earnest. "It's been a long night; we're all tired and upset. ..."

"I swear to you, I didn’t do that to him!" Petunia hiccupped a sob. "I duh-don’t understand how that ha-happened to him!" she wailed.

"I believe you," Faelyn replied, taking the woman's hand and patting it comfortingly. "I don’t think Potter wanted you to know about whatever's happened to him any more than he wanted us to." She picked up a cup and pitcher from the bedside table, filled the cup partially with water, then pulled off one of her bangles off her shawl and tapped the contents into the cup. "Here, drink this. It will help your nerves."

Petunia eyed the cup suspiciously, but something in the witch's voice lulled her into complacency, so she obeyed without protest. After a single sip, her head lolled, and she fell back against the bed. Fae caught the cup before it could spill, and set it back on the table, then grabbed the Muggle's legs and swung them up on the bed.

When she turned around, it was to find her companions looking at her as if she'd just done something as bizarre as tucking a tiger into bed. She shrugged casually. "Her voice was gratin' on me." Each of them resolved, secretly, not to accept any food or drink from the new Potions Mistress from then on.

Just then, the strains of music came from the floor above. Noting the lyrics, Fae glanced over to the bed where Lupin and Shacklebolt had been keeping vigil with the Muggle girl, and smiled knowingly.

* * *

Like a cadaver brought back to life, Draco sat up with a sharp intake of air, scaring Hermione and the two Weasleys half out of their wits. Ron and Hermione both stood reflexively with a yelp, Ron promptly stumbling backwards again, landing with his back against a crate. Ginny caught and steadied Hermione before the older girl could suffer a similar fate. The bunny tumbled into Draco's lap, and he clutched it to his chest protectively. He was still breathing hard as he glanced about the room, looking dazed.

"Whuh ... what are you three doing here?"

"We could ask the same of you," Ron told Draco warily, picking himself up off the floor.

"Do you know where you are, Malfoy?" Hermione asked Draco tentatively, squatting beside him again.

He nodded hesitantly. "The House of Black. My cousin's house."

"Don't act so familiar with Sirius, like he was one of you!" Ron snarled. "He didn’t consider you family, and I'm sure the feeling was mutual!"

Draco flinched, and looked about erratically, his breathing uneven. "S... Sirius?" he asked, sounding more than a little confused. "He's .... he died, didn't he?"

"Yes," Ginny told him, her voice hard. "Your aunt Bellatrix ..." A sudden knot in her throat kept her from finishing.

"Bellatrix. ..." Malfoy said slowly. "Did he kill her, too? She wasn't there, I don’t think. ...."

"Did who kill her?" Ginny asked, getting inexplicably irritated at his denseness, in the way she did with her brother: frustrated rather than actually angry. She wanted to be angry with him -- it was normal, natural to be -- but how could you really hate someone who didn’t seem to be all there? "Are you asking if Sirius did? And she wasn't where?"

"Gin, you might try giving a body half a chance to answer," Ron quipped. "In fact, you might give him a whole chance, I think he needs it, heh."

"Ron!" Hermione scolded. She bore no love for the vicious-tongued Malfoy, but she also didn’t approve of kicking a man when he was down.

Draco didn’t answer, but seemed to grow alarmed. "Why did Lupin bring me here? Am I to be kept here instead of Azkaban?" He tried to stand, but wobbled, landing on his hands and knees. He was trembling so much, he couldn't pick himself up again.

The three Griffyndors exchanged a look. They knew Lucius had been sent there because he had committed crimes as a Death Eater; had Draco finally followed in his father's footsteps? What exactly had he done that would make him believe he was incarcerated now?

Feeling a flash of pity for the lost boy, Hermione stood and offered him a hand.

"Hermione! Ron hissed. They had no idea why Malfoy was there -- he could be feigning weakness to catch them off guard, for all they knew.

"Oh, relax, Ronald!" Hermione hissed back, apparently having read his mind. "If there was anything to worry about, do you think they would have left him up here unguarded? Don’t you think your mother or somebody would have said something to us?"

"They haven't told us anything yet!"

"He wasn't up here before anyway," Ginny told them. "Last I knew of him, we'd left him in the kitchen while we helped Madam Pomfrey. Why did you come up here, Malfoy?"