Post by Suzi on Aug 11, 2005 12:54:48 GMT -5
Pulling up the hood of his cloak to conceal his face, he pushed firmly against the tall, wooden door. It opened slowly, making a loud creaking sound. The door looked old and worn, and several small pieces of wood crumbled away from it, landing noiselessly on the hard stone floor. Closing the door behind him, he looked around at what he could see of the room. It was lit only by a few dim oil lamps and was made even darker by the thick smoke that hung in the air. The smoke came from the various witches, wizards and other absurd looking beings who were sitting round the room, puffing on old fashioned pipes. Over in the far corner, an unfriendly looking man stood serving drinks at the bar, which was made of wood as rotten looking as the door. This was not the sort of place Harry Potter usually went to.
Trying his best to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to himself, Harry crossed the floor, dodging between the rickety tables and chairs to the bar. He sat down cautiously on a tall wooden stool at the bar, sure it would fall to pieces under his weight. It didn’t however, and Harry allowed himself to relax slightly. He pulled his hood down slightly further to make sure it concealed his face completely. It would not be a good idea for him to be recognised here.
The barman approached him, his small black eyes staring at Harry in a way that made him feel sure his face was visible. He waited apprehensively for the eyes to flick upwards to search his forehead for the legendary scar, but to his great relief, it didn’t happen.
“A Butterbeer” said Harry, trying to disguise his voice. The barman stared at him a second longer, before moving away to get his drink. When he returned, Harry took it and drank deeply from it, whilst doing his best to keep the hood from falling back. He felt extremely uncomfortable in this pub and desperately hoped Ron wouldn’t be too long.
Ten minutes, each of which felt like an hour to Harry, passed uneventfully. Suddenly, the creaking sound of the door opening made Harry look round expectantly. A tall figure, dressed in the same sort of cloak as Harry, was surveying the room from beneath a hood, which was pulled up to disguise his face. Harry knew at once who it was. He turned his attention back to the bar, looking fixedly at a bottle of Firewhiskey on a shelf . He did not want anyone’s attention to be drawn to him and Ron. A moment later, he heard footfalls behind him, muffled slightly by the thick layers of dust on the floor. The stool to his right was drawn out, and the tall, cloaked figure sat down beside him. Harry longed to look round, but told himself firmly that he mustn’t.
The barman came over to them to take the new arrivals drink order. He gave them both a long, suspicious star which made Harry feel once again, uneasy.
“Butterbeer” said a voice from his right, slightly deeper than normal, but still recognisable to Harry as the voice of Ron. The barman moved away again and Harry felt an elbow jab him painfully in the ribs.
“Sit for a while then go to the door and turn right. Wait round the corner and I’ll follow a couple of minutes later.” All this was said in a very faint whisper and Harry had to strain his ears to hear. His gave a slight nod to indicate that he understood and then took another drink from the bottle in front of him. The barman came back with Ron’s drink and Harry waited until he had drunk most of it before finishing off his own. The paid the barman and then got up as quietly as he could. He made his way carefully to the door, seeing with great relief that no one was paying him any attention. People who hid their identity seemed to be as common here as it had been in the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out into the night and closed the door of the pub firmly behind him. He had never been more relieved to leave a place in his life and that included Snape’s dungeon classroom. He turned to the right and walked slowly along the street. It was not a very dark night, as the moon was almost full. Harry was glad on it’s light, but knew he must keep in the shadows as much as possible. Dumbledore had told him how dangerous it might be for him to be caught and recognised. He rounded the corner and saw to his great relief that the street was deserted. He stood in the shadows and waited.
It seemed like an age before anything happened. Harry knew Ron would have to wait a reasonable amount of time to avoid any connections being made between them both, but it didn’t stop him worrying that ron might have been caught. His fears subsided slightly as he heard indistinct creaking sounds like those made by the pub door. He stayed in the shadows, knowing that it could easily be someone else. He strained his ears and heard footsteps coming along the street in his direction. He shrank back into the shadows, pressing himself flat against the wall just to be safe. The sound of footsteps came even nearer and a figure rounded the corner into the street where Harry stood hidden. He could see the outline of a billowing cloak and as the figure walked right towards him, he knew it had to be long. No one else would have known to look for someone standing in the shadows.
“Follow me” he whispered “Stay behind a bit” Harry shrank back. He waited until Ron was half way up the street and then followed quickly, afraid of loosing him in the dark. He stayed in the shadows as much as possible.
Harry followed Ron along streets and alleys until he had lost all sense of where he was. The was sure they were going round in circles and wondered why he didn’t just get them to a safe place quickly. Suddenly he realised that he had lost sight of Ron. He stared around desperately, straining his eyes against the suffocating darkness that had now enveloped him. A thick cloud drifted across the moon completing the darkness and causing a panic to spread through Harry. He didn’t know where he was or what to do.
Suddenly, something lunged at Harry out of the darkness and he fell heavily sideways. He felt his shoulder collide painfully with something which opened suddenly inwards. He fell to the ground and felt the object that had knocked him over fall on top of him. It leaped up at once and he heard a door closing. A light flicked on and Harry saw his best friend emerging from underneath the cloak.
“Ron!” he said, relived, taking deep breathes. The fall had winded him. Ron held out a hand to help him to his feet.
“Thanks for coming” he said grinning. Harry glanced around nervously. “It’s ok. We’re safe here” He led the way along the dingy passage and into a small room. There was a battered red sofa and a table with a few chairs. It had none of the friendliness and warmth that had always been present in the Weasley house, but Harry was not surprised. That feeling existed in very few places nowadays. Mrs Weasley’s warm smile and kind heart had managed to keep a glimmer of it in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but most homes smelt only of fear, death and destruction.
Since Voldemort had gained control of the wizarding world in Harry’s seventh and final year at Hogwarts, all good feelings had evaporated and disappeared from everyday life. Deatheaters roamed the streets freely, no longer afraid to show their support for the Dark Lord, and those innocent, law abiding people who had once been free and unafraid were forced into hiding, unable to travel freely in daylight. Many had turned to the Dark Side to protect their families, but had found it to be hardly any safer than resisting unless they would whole heartedly devote their lives to Voldemort. Now only Aurors and the bravest witches and wizards would resist his plans of destruction. Dumbledore was of course a large part of the plans to overthrow Voldemort. He had recalled the Order of the Phoenix to Grimmauld Place and held meetings every few days to discuss plans. Harry was pleased to be of age as it meant that nothing was kept from him this time. He was a prominent part of everything that was going on. Dumbledore knew that Harry was their only chance if they wanted to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, to kill him. He was keeping Harry as safe as he could and had not been at all keen to allow him to come to this place to meet Ron that night. He had practically begged with Harry to allow Lupin to go, but Harry had been adamant. He insisted on going to meet Ron and would not even let Dumbledore send someone with him. “One is less conspicuous than two” he had told him, and Dumbledore, knowing he was right had not tried to deter him any more.
Ron sat down on a chair and motioned to Harry to sit on the sofa. He did so, his legs aching from the long stand, the walk and the fall. He looked up curiously at Ron.
“So what is it?” he asked “Why did you ask for someone to be sent here? Couldn’t you come to the Order?” Ron’s face was serious. He shook his head.
“No” he said “I think they’re onto me Harry. I’ve been hearing people behind me all the time. I couldn’t risk showing them where the Order was based.” Harry made a noise in his throat to indicate he understood. He didn’t know what to say. Ron’s situation seemed worse than he had imagined. “I moved my stuff here” continued Ron. “I think since I moved I’ve shaken them off, but tonight I couldn’t afford to take risks. I shoved you inside in the hopes that if anyone was watching, they wouldn’t see you. I don’t want anyone to know you visited me.”
Ron gave Harry a brief idea of what had been going on. He had managed to rescue three witches from some death eaters and had freed two people from the Imperius curse. Harry was impressed by this, but not overly surprised. These were the kind of things the Order members were doing everyday and were usually only mentioned in passing when they made their reports. Harry was beginning to think Ron was going mad to make him come all this way in so much danger just to tell him that. Not wanting to be unfriendly, but anxious to be on his way back to the Order, Harry asked him to come to the point. Ron looked very grave.
“It’s bad Harry,” he said seriously “I’ve been working on this wizard that has been on the Dark Side to protect his family and last night I broke through a memory charm. Voldemort’s planning to take Hogwarts”
It was three in the morning before Harry found himself walking along Grimmauld Place again. The journey back had been dangerous and difficult. Harry had had to go slowly most of the way to avoid being spotted. As he drew level with Number 11, he whispered softly “The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place” Number Twelve slid silently into view, pushing numbers 11 and 13 outwards. Harry went up the steps to the front door and slotted his key into the lock. He turned it and the door opened. As it closed behind him, he let out a sigh. He was safe again.
Trying his best to avoid drawing any unnecessary attention to himself, Harry crossed the floor, dodging between the rickety tables and chairs to the bar. He sat down cautiously on a tall wooden stool at the bar, sure it would fall to pieces under his weight. It didn’t however, and Harry allowed himself to relax slightly. He pulled his hood down slightly further to make sure it concealed his face completely. It would not be a good idea for him to be recognised here.
The barman approached him, his small black eyes staring at Harry in a way that made him feel sure his face was visible. He waited apprehensively for the eyes to flick upwards to search his forehead for the legendary scar, but to his great relief, it didn’t happen.
“A Butterbeer” said Harry, trying to disguise his voice. The barman stared at him a second longer, before moving away to get his drink. When he returned, Harry took it and drank deeply from it, whilst doing his best to keep the hood from falling back. He felt extremely uncomfortable in this pub and desperately hoped Ron wouldn’t be too long.
Ten minutes, each of which felt like an hour to Harry, passed uneventfully. Suddenly, the creaking sound of the door opening made Harry look round expectantly. A tall figure, dressed in the same sort of cloak as Harry, was surveying the room from beneath a hood, which was pulled up to disguise his face. Harry knew at once who it was. He turned his attention back to the bar, looking fixedly at a bottle of Firewhiskey on a shelf . He did not want anyone’s attention to be drawn to him and Ron. A moment later, he heard footfalls behind him, muffled slightly by the thick layers of dust on the floor. The stool to his right was drawn out, and the tall, cloaked figure sat down beside him. Harry longed to look round, but told himself firmly that he mustn’t.
The barman came over to them to take the new arrivals drink order. He gave them both a long, suspicious star which made Harry feel once again, uneasy.
“Butterbeer” said a voice from his right, slightly deeper than normal, but still recognisable to Harry as the voice of Ron. The barman moved away again and Harry felt an elbow jab him painfully in the ribs.
“Sit for a while then go to the door and turn right. Wait round the corner and I’ll follow a couple of minutes later.” All this was said in a very faint whisper and Harry had to strain his ears to hear. His gave a slight nod to indicate that he understood and then took another drink from the bottle in front of him. The barman came back with Ron’s drink and Harry waited until he had drunk most of it before finishing off his own. The paid the barman and then got up as quietly as he could. He made his way carefully to the door, seeing with great relief that no one was paying him any attention. People who hid their identity seemed to be as common here as it had been in the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he stepped out into the night and closed the door of the pub firmly behind him. He had never been more relieved to leave a place in his life and that included Snape’s dungeon classroom. He turned to the right and walked slowly along the street. It was not a very dark night, as the moon was almost full. Harry was glad on it’s light, but knew he must keep in the shadows as much as possible. Dumbledore had told him how dangerous it might be for him to be caught and recognised. He rounded the corner and saw to his great relief that the street was deserted. He stood in the shadows and waited.
It seemed like an age before anything happened. Harry knew Ron would have to wait a reasonable amount of time to avoid any connections being made between them both, but it didn’t stop him worrying that ron might have been caught. His fears subsided slightly as he heard indistinct creaking sounds like those made by the pub door. He stayed in the shadows, knowing that it could easily be someone else. He strained his ears and heard footsteps coming along the street in his direction. He shrank back into the shadows, pressing himself flat against the wall just to be safe. The sound of footsteps came even nearer and a figure rounded the corner into the street where Harry stood hidden. He could see the outline of a billowing cloak and as the figure walked right towards him, he knew it had to be long. No one else would have known to look for someone standing in the shadows.
“Follow me” he whispered “Stay behind a bit” Harry shrank back. He waited until Ron was half way up the street and then followed quickly, afraid of loosing him in the dark. He stayed in the shadows as much as possible.
Harry followed Ron along streets and alleys until he had lost all sense of where he was. The was sure they were going round in circles and wondered why he didn’t just get them to a safe place quickly. Suddenly he realised that he had lost sight of Ron. He stared around desperately, straining his eyes against the suffocating darkness that had now enveloped him. A thick cloud drifted across the moon completing the darkness and causing a panic to spread through Harry. He didn’t know where he was or what to do.
Suddenly, something lunged at Harry out of the darkness and he fell heavily sideways. He felt his shoulder collide painfully with something which opened suddenly inwards. He fell to the ground and felt the object that had knocked him over fall on top of him. It leaped up at once and he heard a door closing. A light flicked on and Harry saw his best friend emerging from underneath the cloak.
“Ron!” he said, relived, taking deep breathes. The fall had winded him. Ron held out a hand to help him to his feet.
“Thanks for coming” he said grinning. Harry glanced around nervously. “It’s ok. We’re safe here” He led the way along the dingy passage and into a small room. There was a battered red sofa and a table with a few chairs. It had none of the friendliness and warmth that had always been present in the Weasley house, but Harry was not surprised. That feeling existed in very few places nowadays. Mrs Weasley’s warm smile and kind heart had managed to keep a glimmer of it in the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, but most homes smelt only of fear, death and destruction.
Since Voldemort had gained control of the wizarding world in Harry’s seventh and final year at Hogwarts, all good feelings had evaporated and disappeared from everyday life. Deatheaters roamed the streets freely, no longer afraid to show their support for the Dark Lord, and those innocent, law abiding people who had once been free and unafraid were forced into hiding, unable to travel freely in daylight. Many had turned to the Dark Side to protect their families, but had found it to be hardly any safer than resisting unless they would whole heartedly devote their lives to Voldemort. Now only Aurors and the bravest witches and wizards would resist his plans of destruction. Dumbledore was of course a large part of the plans to overthrow Voldemort. He had recalled the Order of the Phoenix to Grimmauld Place and held meetings every few days to discuss plans. Harry was pleased to be of age as it meant that nothing was kept from him this time. He was a prominent part of everything that was going on. Dumbledore knew that Harry was their only chance if they wanted to get rid of Voldemort once and for all, to kill him. He was keeping Harry as safe as he could and had not been at all keen to allow him to come to this place to meet Ron that night. He had practically begged with Harry to allow Lupin to go, but Harry had been adamant. He insisted on going to meet Ron and would not even let Dumbledore send someone with him. “One is less conspicuous than two” he had told him, and Dumbledore, knowing he was right had not tried to deter him any more.
Ron sat down on a chair and motioned to Harry to sit on the sofa. He did so, his legs aching from the long stand, the walk and the fall. He looked up curiously at Ron.
“So what is it?” he asked “Why did you ask for someone to be sent here? Couldn’t you come to the Order?” Ron’s face was serious. He shook his head.
“No” he said “I think they’re onto me Harry. I’ve been hearing people behind me all the time. I couldn’t risk showing them where the Order was based.” Harry made a noise in his throat to indicate he understood. He didn’t know what to say. Ron’s situation seemed worse than he had imagined. “I moved my stuff here” continued Ron. “I think since I moved I’ve shaken them off, but tonight I couldn’t afford to take risks. I shoved you inside in the hopes that if anyone was watching, they wouldn’t see you. I don’t want anyone to know you visited me.”
Ron gave Harry a brief idea of what had been going on. He had managed to rescue three witches from some death eaters and had freed two people from the Imperius curse. Harry was impressed by this, but not overly surprised. These were the kind of things the Order members were doing everyday and were usually only mentioned in passing when they made their reports. Harry was beginning to think Ron was going mad to make him come all this way in so much danger just to tell him that. Not wanting to be unfriendly, but anxious to be on his way back to the Order, Harry asked him to come to the point. Ron looked very grave.
“It’s bad Harry,” he said seriously “I’ve been working on this wizard that has been on the Dark Side to protect his family and last night I broke through a memory charm. Voldemort’s planning to take Hogwarts”
It was three in the morning before Harry found himself walking along Grimmauld Place again. The journey back had been dangerous and difficult. Harry had had to go slowly most of the way to avoid being spotted. As he drew level with Number 11, he whispered softly “The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place” Number Twelve slid silently into view, pushing numbers 11 and 13 outwards. Harry went up the steps to the front door and slotted his key into the lock. He turned it and the door opened. As it closed behind him, he let out a sigh. He was safe again.
