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Author: tess Story: Matris Vereor Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 19 Words: 32,026
AN: This story would not have been possible if not for the enthusiastic reviewers who took turns stuffing food into the plot bunny’s mouth. I am also indebted to Musings for her dedication and hard work. Many have said that you love this version of Molly, and if it were not for Musings’ guidance I would be floundering in a sea of dead punctuation and fuzzy points of view. x x x x x Arthur Weasley stepped back from the sizeable hole created in the wall and admired his handy work. Green flames erupted and Molly stepped out in her best dress robes. She turned around and watched four sons and one daughter erupt from the hole. ‘Wonderful work, Arthur,’ she smiled, and patted his cheek. Arthur bounced on the balls of his feet in excitement. ‘I put it right in the same place I did last time,’ he said proudly. ‘Yeah, good going, Dad,’ exclaimed Fred. George held his hand out to a large, purple-faced man who was wielding his newspaper like a bat. The man swung, and George caught the newspaper in his right hand, grabbed the man’s hand with his left, and shook it up and down vigorously. ‘Mr. Dursley! How wonderful to see you! I’m here to visit Dudley, is he in his room, by any chance?’ Mr. Dursley opened and closed his mouth a few times, and a gagging noise came out. Fred came over and hit him soundly on the back a few times. ‘George, I think he’s choking!’ Fred exclaimed. ‘Oh, dear me,’ said George. ‘We really can’t let that happen, now can we?’ Ginny, Ron and Bill lingered for a moment, watching with great amusement as Fred and George pounded Mr. Dursley on the back, before heading up the stairs. Surveying her family hard at work, Mrs. Weasley smiled and patted her husband on the shoulder while she watched her sons go about their task. ‘You’ve done your part, Arthur dear,’ she gestured to the large hole in the wall with a smile on her face. ‘Why don’t you go explore now,’ she said, shoving him in the direction of the telephone. ‘Off you go.’ Arthur didn’t need to be told twice. x x x x x Petunia made a croaking noise as she finally wrestled the telephone from Arthur Weasley’s grip. He didn’t worry about it, as he caught sight of the summer porch. Arthur got down on one knee to poke at the screen. ‘Not very sturdy for a door, is it? What’s this for? No! Wait!’ he began to get excited. ‘This is to keep insects out, isn’t it? I’m right, aren’t I?’ For some strange reason, the sight of this particular woman reduced to tears did nothing to Arthur. He thought about it for a minute, and then decided it must be the anger he felt. Arthur finished examining the screen door quickly, as something outside caught his eye. It was a ladder and it had something attached to it. Arthur went through the door, as he was unable to work out the latching mechanism on the side. Fending off Mrs. Dursley who was yelling about the please-men, Arthur chuckled, and decided to let her in on a little secret. ‘It won’t do you any good, we’ve put a spell on the house, the please-men couldn’t find it if they tried for days.’ Arthur walked across the well-groomed lawn, and promptly fell face forward into the grass. He rolled quickly and turned to look behind him. It was beautiful. Black, with silver trimming, ten spouts across the top arch, and a giant green hose attached to it. It was a sprinkles system! And top quality, at that he marveled. Quickly he picked it up and shook it, but nothing came loose. Slowly he turned it to the other side, where he saw a knob. He smiled and repeated ‘Righty tighty, lefty loosey’ to himself as he twirled it around and around. Neither direction seemed to help though. Disappointed, he turned to explore the ladder. He had seen them, but never been on one himself. He’d even helped un-hex a folding ladder from Yorkshire that had followed people around trying to trap them underneath it last spring. He grasped both sides firmly, and stepped up, and up, and up. At the top was a small shelf, with a can of white paint. Paint! Arthur let out a cry of delight, ‘This is how Muggles change things different colors!’ he whooped, and took the brush out. He tried a few strokes on the fence, and decided this was a terrific opportunity. He climbed down the ladder, and came face to face with Petunia Dursley. Arthur smiled, and with one sweep of his hand, painted one side of her face. ‘It works on skin, too?!’ he exclaimed giddily. He turned and raced toward the porch. Molly would love this, and she might let him take it home with him! x x x x x Charlie came up to Mrs. Weasley with a list in his hand. ‘Ginny, Ron and Bill are upstairs; the twins are obviously working hard, and Petunia’s in the kitchen trying to wrestle the felly tone out of Dad’s hands.’ He turned around, and smiled at the twins. ‘Hit him higher up -- near the neck. That always does it for baby dragons when they choke.’ Fred smiled brightly. ‘Thanks, I think we’ve got it taken care of.’ George lifted his hand again and gave Vernon an experimental whack in the area Charlie had suggested. He shook his head. ‘Rotten luck. It’s no use; he’s still making that noise.’ Fred brightened. ‘Wait, I have an idea, this will definitely help.’ He smiled and unwrapped something in foil. ‘Now, take this like a good boy, you’ll need it to stop choking.’ With that he shoved a large red taffy into Mr. Dursley’s mouth. The living room grew very silent, as they waited for the inevitable. Mr. Dursley stopped, chewed, and swallowed. ‘I say, that’s very good,’ Mr. Dursley said, his entire body markedly relaxing. ‘Very helpful. Where did you get that?’ Fred smiled gregariously. ‘At the Magic market. Here, why don’t you just sit down over here, and we’ll take care of everything.’ Mr. Dursley looked delighted, and a smile came over his face. ‘Yes, that’s very kind of you. Please,’ he gestured widely at the chaos around him with unseeing eyes, ‘make yourselves at home! Make yourselves at home.’ With that, he plunked himself down on the couch and proceeded to pluck bits of hair from his moustache. ‘Well, that’s taken care of him,’ sighed George. ‘Indeed,’ Fred said with a grin. ‘We should be so lucky to be oblivious and agreeable.’ ‘That goes without saying.’ ‘Let’s go,’ George said, clapping an arm on his twin’s shoulder. ‘We’ve got a tight schedule.’ The twins turned to head up the stairs. At that moment Arthur came back into the living room with a bucket of paint, Petunia hot on his heels shrieking. ‘Molly! Molly, look at this! It changes things a different color!’ ‘Well, Arthur,’ Molly smiled indulgently at her husband, ‘you’d better see what it works on. We wouldn’t want you to waste this opportunity.’ Petunia shuddered, gasped and passed out on the floor behind Mr. Weasley. Molly surveyed her environment briefly. There were photographs of a frighteningly large, blond-headed young man on virtually every horizontal surface of the room. Anyone surveying this room would never guess there was another young man living in this home. Molly took a deep, calming breath and turned to face the portly man sitting across from her, cheerfully tearing his hair out. ‘Is that your son Dudley?’ she asked Mr. Dursley in a conversational tone. ‘Oh yes,’ he smiled, giggling hysterically. ‘He’s one of the best young men you’d ever hope to meet. There’s no finer boy anywhere!’ Molly smiled and turned her sharp gaze back onto Petunia, who was still down on the floor in a lump at her feet, white paint smeared across one half of her horsey face. ‘Oh, this just won’t do at all. You and I are going to have a little chat.’ She smiled briefly at her husband’s handywork, and pointed her wand at the skinny woman. ‘Ennervate!’ x x x x x Ginny reached the top of the stairs and pounded on one of the doors. A large, whale of a boy poked his head out of the door and leered at her. ‘Hey, did Devon send you over here? You’re a cute little thi—’ Ron’s fist collided with his mouth, and the whale when down. Hard. ‘Well, that was disgusting,’ Ginny quipped, shutting the door firmly. ‘Wrong room, obviously.’ ‘Guess that must’ve been Dudley?’ Ron said, shaking out his hand. ‘Must’ve been,’ said Bill flatly. ‘Harry was pretty accurate though; he is as wide as he is tall.’ ‘This one must be it.’ Ginny stopped at the next door, and knocked. When no answer came, she pushed it open. It was dark and cool inside from the air conditioning unit humming quietly in the corner. ‘I don’t think this is Harry’s room,’ said Bill with a grin. ‘But I’ve got a pretty good idea of whose it is, and what I should do.’ Ginny’s eyes took on a shine. ‘Oooh. Let me help,’ she breathed. Bill shook his head. ‘No. It won’t take me but a minute; you and Ron go get Harry.’ Ron stepped around the two and opened the next door, and encountered a loo. ‘Bill, you should hit this room, too’ he called out over his shoulder. Ginny looked at the last door, noticing the locks near the top and the cat flap at the bottom and fought to regain her composure. She opened it to find Harry standing next to the edge of his bed, his wand drawn. ‘Harry, are you okay?’ Harry started at Ginny’s voice. ‘Ginny! What are you doing here?’ Ginny smiled. ‘We’re breaking you out of here.’ Harry began to speak, but she held a hand up. ‘We know, and to hell with Petunia’s help. We’re smarter, there are more of us, and we love you. That counts for more than anything Dumbledore says her blood could possibly do for you.’ She held a hand out to him. ‘Now come on home, Harry.’ He pocketed his wand. Ron poked his head in. ‘C’mon, mate! I’ll get your stuff.’ Harry nodded, still more than a little overwhelmed. ‘There’s a loose floorboard under the bed.’ Ron smiled. ‘Yeah, you told me about that in a letter. Don’t worry, just get out of here. We’re on a tight schedule.’ With that, Ron opened Hedwig’s cage and set about waking her up. Harry followed Ginny down the stairs, passing Fred and George on their way up. ‘Hi, guys—’ ‘—We’re off to say goodbye to your cousin for you,’ interrupted one of the twins, who was grinning wickedly. ‘See you when we get back home,’ said the other as he slapped Harry on the back. Harry opened his mouth to say something else but was dragged down the stairs by Ginny. ‘Come on, we’ve got to hurry!’ she exclaimed. x x x x x Dudley stood in the back of his clothes cupboard, peering through the door which he’d left slightly ajar. He rubbed his bruised jaw and fumed. He knew that hair. That was one of those freaky people that Harry hung out with. What were they doing here? He heard voices in the hallway again, and, seconds later, his door opened. He froze and held his breath. ‘Do you see anyone?’ said a voice. ‘This is his room; the location spell says he’s in here,’ replied another voice. ‘He’s too big to hide anywhere.’ ‘He’s not that smart either.’ He heard his door slam shut, and let out a breath of relief. ‘Oooooohhhhh Duuuuuddddlllleeeeee,’ a low voice crooned out into the quiet. ‘Can Dudders come out to play?’ came another voice. ‘Where’s that poopy Diddydums?’ Dudley began to shake. ‘Where arrrrrre you, Dudley?’ ‘Are you afraid, Dinky Diddyums?’ Dudley began to sweat. ‘I don’t think he’s man enough to face us, Fred.’ ‘I agree.’ ‘But to every boy’s life, there must be formative experiences.’ ‘And into every whale’s life an itch in the middle of the back builds character.’ ‘It’s good for the soul—’ ‘—Reminds them to reduce—’ ‘—reminds them to not mess with someone’s family members.’ ‘I agree again, George. You are wise beyond our years.’ Dudley whimpered, realizing it was them. The twin freaks. The same ones who had given him that bloody toffee two years before. He heard nothing for a few moments before a harsh voice uttered one word: ‘Prurio’. It started small. Right in the middle of his back. The itching began lightly at first. Dudley bit his lip, preparing to not move, and to not give in. He had been through worse than an itch, he reasoned with himself. He went an entire week without television once. He had been forced to rake leaves and pick up other people’s trash. He had been in a small room with bright lights and a hard bed for an entire night. Surely he could survive an itch. Silence pervaded the room while Dudley tried in vain to reach the middle of his back. With one almighty reach he tipped himself over, and spilled out and onto the floor of his room. Fred and George looked as though Christmas had come early. They immediately helped him up. ‘Dudders!’ ‘Great to see you!’ ‘We were just talking about you!’ ‘The very boy we’ve wanted to see all these long months!’ ‘How’ve you been?’ ‘Gee, you look smashing with that fat lip, who gave it to you?’ ‘That look’s like Ron’s work. Notice how the chin is pushed up on one side?’ ‘And his eye’s bruising too.’ ‘Ohhh, what did you do?’ ‘Did you tell him he’s freckly?’ ‘Did you insult him?’ ‘Did you insult Ginny?’ ‘Ron’s got a protective streak; doesn’t like people who mess with his family.’ Fred shook his head. ’It’s awful, the things he does to people.’ George smiled evilly. ‘It’s awful what we do to people who mess with our family.’ ‘And isn’t Harry just like a brother to us?’ ‘Just like a brother’. George agreed ‘Why, the only thing wrong with him is his hair color—’ ‘—And his height.’ ‘Now that’s not his fault.’ ‘True enough.’ ‘But back to business. How’s that itch coming along, Dinky Diddydums?’ Dudley scowled. ‘What itch? I’m not itchy,’ he sneered. ‘Oh…we can’t have that, now can we?’ Fred drew his wand quickly and pointed it at Dudley’s feet. ‘Prurio’. ‘How about now?’ George asked, in a cheerful voice. x x x x x Harry’s jaw dropped as he saw what was going on in the Parlor. Mr. Dursley was nearly bald, having ripped out almost all of his hair. Petunia was sitting on the floor with her back against the door to the cupboard under the stairs. She had paint running down the side of her face, and appeared to be in a state of shock. Her lips were moving, but no sound was coming from them. Mr. Weasley was eagerly painting the couch with a can of white paint from outside. ‘Harry, dear, you’ll come home with us, won’t you?’ Mrs. Weasley asked as soon as she saw him come down the stairs. ‘Y-yes of course I will,’ Harry spluttered as Ginny urged him past the fracas. Molly sighed. ‘That’s wonderful, Harry dear. That is all I needed to hear you say right now.’ She gave him a reassuring smile. ‘That’s a relief. Arthur and I will see you at home. Just go with Ginny; we’ll be along very soon.’ She’d said all of this a tone that sounded more like she was attending a tea party than brandishing her wand at his aunt’s throat. Harry wanted to stay and watch, but Ginny was much stronger than he expected and she propelled him forward. He found himself being efficiently ushered through the now-destroyed parlor, and into a hole in the wall. Ginny reached into her pocket and threw a pinch of powder into the flames and shouted ‘The Burrow!’ Harry and Ginny both spun away into the green flames. x x x x x Molly waited a moment until she heard the last of the flames sputter from the Floo. ‘Seal it, Arthur,’ she directed. Arthur dropped the paint brush on the floor and whipped his wand out. Within seconds the hole disappeared and the cracks mended themselves. All that was left was an enormous amount of dust, and scorch marks along the edge of wall where the carpeting had burned away. With another waive of his wand the small electrical fireplace walked across the room, and settled itself down into its outlet. He smoothed his robes down, and pointed his wand at Mr. Dursley. ‘Ennervate’. The man jerked upright, a handful of his own hair tight in his fist. ‘What the devil is going on here!!?’ the man sputtered. ‘Petrificus Totalus! Silencio!’ muttered Mrs. Weasley as she quietly and quickly turned her wand to the Dursley patriarch. She then Levitated Petunia onto the freshly painted couch. Molly turned to her husband who was looking as though he, too, would like to give the Dursley’s a piece of his mind. Molly shook her head and smiled. He had a job to do, and she would make sure he did it. ‘Arthur, you go ahead and explore; I’m to handle the lecture portion of the plan, remember?’ Arthur bounced up out of his reverie and kissed Molly on the cheek. Smiling he made his way over to Mr. Dursley with his can of paint, looked down at the man with pity, and headed for the kitchen. Molly conjured herself a nice chair and sat in it. Petunia and Vernon were frozen in time, staring at Molly as she opened her purse and brought out a small table, a teapot, three tea cups and a plate of biscuits. She uttered a few charms under her breath and then began tapping the tray, the teapot, the cups and the biscuits. Lastly she touched her wand to the couch where Mrs. Dursley sat in wet paint, and Mr. Dursley’s easy chair, which had only a small amount of paint on it. ‘Now. Here are the rules of engagement. You will not be allowed to speak, until I have finished speaking. You will be allowed to drink tea, eat some of my home made biscuits and sit in comfortable positions. You will not be allowed out of your seats, and you will not be able to throw anything at me.’ As she finished this the tea kettle began to whistle. She waved her wand at it, and it rose up and poured tea for three. With another wave of her wand the elder Dursleys were released from the spell. Petunia looked at Mrs. Weasley with a wary eye. Molly glared at the woman, and began to speak slowly and carefully. ‘I want to tell you about my experiences with Harry. I don’t have much time, as I’m not very interested in wasting much breath on the likes of you. But for all of humanity’s sake, I can not simply allow you to get away with this and not hear what you’ve done wrong. Because indeed, you will get off, scott-free.’ Molly took a sip of her tea and cocked her head to the side, listening to the crashing sound coming from the kitchen. A loud and jubilant ‘A-Ha, so that’s how it works!’ followed the crashing noise. A smile played across Molly’s lips and she set down her tea. She looked at both of her prisoners, and the fire came back to her eyes. ‘I don’t know what is more disappointing. That you have so seriously failed to live honorable, decent lives or that there is no one, no organization, who will be able to exact the proper justice you so very much deserve.’ At that point Mr. Dursley looked very frightened and the lights began to flicker on and off. Turning around Molly spotted a sight that warmed her angry heart. Arthur was flicking a light switch rapidly while staring very interestedly at the ceiling fan. The fan would spin, and then slow, the light would turn on, and then off, then the fan would spin again. ‘Arthur, can you go upstairs and play with the electricity there, please? I’m conducting a lecture and it’s hard to concentrate with you playing right there.’ Arthur smiled and scooted up the stairs. Molly turned to the Dursleys and began to speak again. ‘I met Harry for the first time when I dropped off my children at King’s Cross nearly six years ago. No one was with him. He was frightened, as any boy going off to a new school would be. But he was polite. I still wonder to this day how the savior of both our worlds had come to be so well-mannered considering the foul, narcissistic vermin who raised him.’ Molly glared at her captives. ‘What really struck me as horrifying, however, was how small he was. Yes, I realize he was only a boy at that time, but compared to my own children it was clear enough to notice the difference. ‘You know, I went to school with James and Lily. I was a seventh year when they were in their third year, and can you imagine what a shock it was to remember looking up to Lily, and James, and then looking down at Harry?’ Vernon and Petunia were both gesturing angrily and apparently speaking, but no sound was coming from their lips. Molly tutted under her breath. ‘No manners at all. Just as I expected.’ She slowly sipped her tea, and began again in a conversational tone of voice. ‘Do you think I don’t know what has made him so small?’ She leaned closer, her nostrils flaring with each measured breath. ‘Why didn’t you feed him? Were you trying to starve the magic out of him?’ She waved her wand at Petunia, who coughed and sputtered a bit, surprised at her ability to speak again. ‘Vernon—,’ she began. Molly held up her hand. ‘No. Don’t you dare suggest it was your husband’s idea, because I hold both of you equally responsible. I want to know if you honestly thought that you could starve the magic out of him.’ Molly waited expectantly. x x x x x Arthur took the stairs two at a time. This was the most fun he had had all summer long. Not only was he satisfying a serious need to teach Mr. Dursley a lesson, but he was also finally getting a chance to really explore a real Muggle household. They had had a model household for training purposes set up at the Ministry, but it wasn’t quite the same. At the top of the stairs he saw his youngest son dragging a trunk down the hall, and holding an owl cage in his other hand. He stopped in front of his older brother Charlie who was taking his clipboard duties very seriously. “I’ve got everything of Harry’s and I sent Hedwig out the window.” Charlie checked something off, and Ron continued down the hallway towards his father. ‘Hey Dad, I’ll see you at home.’ Ron smiled, and headed down the stairs, bouncing the corner of the trunk on each stair as he went down. Arthur continued down the hall to an open door, and at it. It was covered in locking devices. Harry’s room. Remus had mentioned the locks. So had his twin sons. Curiously he flicked a few bolts, jumping back as they locked into place loudly. Shaking his head he looked inside. There was a bed, a shelf with broken things on it, a waste paper basket filled with pits of parchment, a ragged blanket on the edge of the bed, and an empty dresser. Arthur looked at the window where the iron bolts used to hold bars on the outside were still implanted in the wall. He began to see clearly what Molly was speaking about. Arthur turned to find his oldest sons coming down the hallway, chuckling. Bill and Charlie both stopped in the doorway and waited for him. From the way they stopped laughing it was clear they’d noticed that he was very, very angry. ‘This was his room,’ Arthur said, his voice reedy with rage. ‘This whole time he’s been coming back to this…’ Charlie nodded somberly. Arthur looked at Bill and saw an answering gleam in his eldest son’s eyes that he hadn’t seen in some time. ‘Have you seen the back yard?’ Charlie asked, looking up from his list. ‘Yes,’ Arthur replied. He suddenly felt the need to make certain he fulfilled Molly’s wishes very thoroughly. Azkaban wasn’t good enough for what these people deserved in his mind. ‘Did you inspect their sprinkles system?’ Arthur sighed, disappointed. ‘I did but I couldn’t get it to work.’ Charlie nodded and made a note on his list. ‘Did you go into the shed?’ Arthur shook his head and Charlie made another note on the list. ‘The water taps should be in there, look on the far wall. According to Tonks they’re labeled.’ Arthur turned to go in haste, but Charlie caught his arm. ‘Wait a tic, Dad, I’m not done with this list.’ Arthur turned back and made a great show of folding his arms in front of his chest and huffing. ‘Make it quick; Moody said we only have an hour or so to put these folks in their place. And there’s still so much to do.’ Charlie smiled in sympathy and went back to his list. ‘Microwaver?’ Arthur’s thoughts brightened slightly. ‘Yes – did you know it causes explosions?’ Bill snorted loudly. ‘Dad, it’s supposed to heat things, what did you put in there?’ Arthur thought for a moment. ‘A newspaper, cream from the refrigerator, and a fork. Tonks said I should try eggs too, but I couldn’t find any.’ Bill was doubled over in laughter at this point, holding onto the doorknob next to him for support. Charlie scanned his list again. ‘Been in to the garage?’ Arthur shook his head again. ‘That’s my next stop, after the shed,’ he explained. Charlie nodded, and made a final check on his list. ‘That covers it, there’s a riding mawn lower in the shed, and a machine that makes clothing clean with no magic.’ ‘Outstanding!’ Arthur rubbed his hands in excitement, as Bill lost complete control over his ability to stand, and fell onto the floor with hysterical laughter. Charlie was shoved into the door, and, when the door was opened, it reveal the twins and one very large young man. The young man appeared to be in intense pain, and attempting to reach something on the floor. ‘Come on, Dudders, that’s the spirit! You can do it!’ came the enthusiastic cheering of the one of the twins. ‘Touch your toes! It’s easy! Just bend a little further,’ one twin bent down, pantomiming scratching at the top of his feet. ‘Relief is just a meter away, Duddykins!’ Bill and Charlie looked at each other, and then at their younger brothers. “What on earth are you doing to that boy?” Bill asked quietly, his eyes glinting mischievously. “You’re supposed to be teaching him a lesson in brotherly love.” Fred looked over at the doorway. ‘Oh, Bill! Come in! Come in! Dad! There’s a television in here! He’s got a PlayStation too! And a computer!” Bill and Charlie strode into the room, looking around in awe at the size of the room, never mind the things inside it. Arthur stepped over the threshold, and– in that moment – felt his anger reach its zenith. Sharply he turned around in a circle, taking stock of the room in one glance. He looked at the large young man trying to touch the floor, he was groaning. ‘Stand up!’ he barked at the boy in a tone of voice that made all four Weasley sons back up a step. Dudley, for his part, obeyed immediately. ‘What have my sons done to you?’ Arthur asked in a kind voice. The kind of voice one would use when speaking to someone who had problems understanding the English language. Dudley sneered. ‘They made my feet itch, and my back itch. I can’t reach them. Not very creative if you ask me.’ Arthur smiled indulgently. ‘You know, Dudley, I think I have the best solution for all of us here. Now, you have to understand: Harry lived down the hall from you, with nothing of his own. It’s only fair that you either make up for it, or suffer as much as he did. So we’re going to split the difference.’ With that, Arthur began shrinking things in the room. He started with the computer and the television, and then moved on to the exercise equipment and the bicycles. He nodded to Bill, who began to put the shrunken items into his cloak pockets. Dudley gasped and backed up to the wall, frightened to move, his hands instinctively curving around to his backside. When Arthur was done, all Dudley had left was a bed, a dresser, the closet, his desk, and the windows. A few posters remained on the walls, and marks on the plush carpeting where heavy equipment had last pressed down upon it. With a short nod to his sons, Arthur turned to leave the room, clapping Fred on the back as he did so. ‘Good work, boys. Keep it up.’ He paused, and spoke again, ‘When you’re done with him Moody will collect him for St. Mungo’s. Poppy knows he’s coming, and that you’ll be seeing to his injuries. Have fun!’ And with that, the Weasley patriarch smiled and walked down the hall and into the bathroom. x x x x x Severus stepped out of the flames and into his office. Lucius had gone to explain their plan to the Dark Lord, and would be joining him Privet Drive soon. Severus quickly he grabbed his most voluminous black robes, several phials of liquid Obliviate, and one phial of the Loose Lips solution. He Flooed to 93 Diagon Alley and from there to Potter’s summer residence. How it happened, he did not know. But he was stuck inside of a building. Something sharp was poking into his ribs, and dust had filled his eyes and mouth. Only years of discipline kept him from coughing and revealing his location. Not that it mattered; he could hear the booming voice of Molly Weasley as she lectured the fools. Severus thought for a moment, and decided that a bit more mayhem wouldn’t be amiss. ‘Reducto’ he whispered, pointing his wand in front of him at the wall. Arthur would definitely owe him a bottle of whiskey for sealing up that connection. After all, he did have a reputation to protect. x x x x x From the kitchen two loud cracks were heard, and Molly watched with poorly disguised amusement as Vernon jumped. That woman, Petunia, shrieked and fell back against the couch. Molly merely grabbed her wand and peered over her shoulder. A rhythmic thump-step-thump-step could be heard through the kitchen. A deep chuckle came from behind that. ‘Alastor?’ Molly called out. A disembodied voice answered back from the kitchen as the entry way to the kitchen was filled with the figure of a tall bald man. ‘It’s us, Molly. Shacklebolt wanted to come and help get everyone out of here. He’s the investigating Auror, should it come to that.’ Molly turned back to the Dursleys and smiled again. Petunia shrank back in fear, and Molly’s smile twisted a bit. This won’t be too hard, she thought. Before she could begin, Alastor Moody had walked over to her chair, and stood in front of the couple. ‘I warned you, didn’t I, Dursley.’ he said. What was being warned in that statement was never heard, as another explosion ripped through the parlor. The detonation took the occupants by surprise. The two Aurors, one retired and one not yet retired took cover behind a piano, and began shooting curses and hexes over the top of it. A figure in dark robes with dark hair dodged his way through the curses, stopping in front of the couch. ‘Is this paint?’ he asked, touching the material. Alastor and Kinsley grinned at one another. Severus turned to address the group. “You have to leave, all of you. Malfoy is on his way.’ ‘Both of them?’ Kingsley Shacklebolt asked. Severus shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Possibly. I imagine a few will be arriving here in a few minutes. You have to leave now, or this will look…suspicious.’ The Aurors exchanged gleeful looks. ‘Sounds like bonuses will be a bit bigger this year’ Kinglsey said. Disappointed that her fun had been cut short, but satisfied that the Dursleys’ fun was only beginning, Molly patted Kingsley on the back. ‘Have fun with your little fight, dear, and I’m making spaghetti tonight, so don’t eat while you’re filing your reports.’ ‘Excellent!’ Molly gave two sharp whistles, and pounding feet were heard from all corners of the house. Within a minute all of the Weasley boys were assembled in front of her, and holding onto the Portkey. Molly tapped it with her wand once. ‘Home’, she said.
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