Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter universe, nor do I claim to have any rights to the bits of lyrics I put here. It's still all for fun.
A/N: The bombs just keep dropping! Here, you get to see where a bit of Harry's cash went. You also find out where Harry ended up after he left the Leaky Cauldron. Enjoy!
Chapter 5: The Rescue
-----~-----
It's the reason for my pain
in a season to celebrate.
I don't wanna be full of hate
for anybody, but it's too late
everyone has been in my face
telling me that I'm a disgrace,
showing me things that I must face,
telling me that they need their space.
-----~-----
Petunia Dursley was in heaven. She fell absolutely in love with her new home. She loved the huge master bedroom with the huge walk in closet and the huge connected bathroom, which had all the modern fixtures. Its walls were finished with white marble tile and it contained a large walk-in shower, a bathtub that looked more like a small swimming pool, along with an automatic-flush toilet, a bidet, and a large, luxurious hot tub.
There were four other bedrooms almost as large as the master bedroom. She reserved two the bedrooms immediately for her son, Dudley, one to sleep in, and the other to hold the incredible number of possessions that they brought with them, and all of the new possessions that her husband, Vernon, had bought for him since they had moved in three months before.
She loved the large drawing room to greet all of the important guests, and she loved the spacious sitting room to entertain all of the important guests, and an elegant dining room to dine with all of the important guests. However, more than everything else in the house, she loved the massive kitchen to prepare all of the food for all of the important guests.
The kitchen was indeed massive. It featured an enormous walk-in refrigerator and a stand-up freezer unit, a whisper-quiet automatic dishwasher and a conveniently positioned trash compactor, all with a brightly shining chrome finish. There was a six-burner, professional quality, dual-oven cooking range and a large food preparation island in the center. Above the center isle hung an extensive array of cutlery, utensils and state of the art cookware. Along the entire length of one wall was a set of shelving that displayed the collection of her fine china dinnerware, a small breakfast nook was nestled in one corner, and sturdy marble-topped counters surrounded the rest of the room. It was a cathedral of sparkling white and dazzling chrome.
Petunia had just finished her post-breakfast ritual of polishing every surface of her kitchen until every counter was sterilized, every inch of the floor was scrubbed, and every tiny smudge on every bit of chrome was mercilessly polished away. She was sitting at the cozy breakfast nook sipping her morning tea while reading the daily newspaper. She glanced out of the window into the back yard and watched her husband, Vernon, lazily drifting on the floating lounge chair that was half-submerged by his massive weight in the large swimming pool. Along the edge of the pool sat Vernon's sister, Marge, who was sunning herself on a lounge chair, chuckling as a brood of her dogs were barking and yapping noisily.
Petunia was absently flipping through the pages of the paper, making mental notes on the various sales going on in many of the London stores. She smiled as she inwardly admonished herself for even bothering to scan for sales, realizing that it was a habit she could now afford to break. Her eyes glazed over, as she dreamily thought back to that lucky day four months prior. That was the lucky, lucky day that Vernon came home from his job at Grunning's Drill Company and announced that he had been rewarded for his hard work and loyalty with a promotion, along with a substantial bonus. That, in itself, made the family jubilant, but what really made that day extra, extra lucky was when he also announced that he won the grand prize in some sweepstakes he had entered.
'Finally,' she thought as she sipped her tea, 'we can afford the life that we so richly deserve.'
She took another mouthful of tea as she lazily turned another page of the newspaper that was spread out on the table. Suddenly, the tea in her mouth sprayed over the newsprint and the formerly immaculate table. Her eyes became as wide as saucers, the dreaminess that was there a moment before was replaced by abject shock. Her mouth, still dribbling remnants of the brown liquid, fell open and she let out a barely audible squeak as she scanned the tea-stained page.
"It can't be…" she whispered through the fingers that were covering her mouth. She glanced up at a Grunning's calendar that hung on the wall, "he's not due back from that freak school for another week!"
She brushed the droplets of tea from the page, smudging the ink as she did. Even though the page was now slightly sodden and blurry, and the face in the picture looked much thinner than she remembered, there was no mistaking who it was. It was the face of her nephew, Harry Potter. Printed above the picture, in large, bold print, were the words, 'DO YOU KNOW THIS BOY?'
Petunia quickly read the article below the picture. It stated that this unfortunate boy was discovered three weeks before, lying unconscious in the Rose Gardens at Hyde Park in London. He was clad only in pajamas when he was found, and had no identification on his person. The article went on to state that the boy was currently in a coma at St Thomas' Hospital in London, and they desperately needed to contact his family or guardians to arrange his ongoing treatment and care.
Her horse-like face paled, even more so than normal. She suddenly realized that the people in that magic world of his that she hated so much, had no idea where Harry was. She knew the implications for Harry having his face, his location, and his current helplessness spread across the country. She knew the danger he was in.
"No," she whispered, "oh no!"
She jumped up from the stool she was sitting on, sending it clattering to the floor. She raced through the house, up the stairs and into the spare bedroom, which they had been using for storage of the boxes from Privet Drive they had yet to unpack. She frantically tore through the stacks of sealed boxes, most of them containing Dudley's things from the old house. She finally came across the one for which she had been searching. She tore it open and fumbled inside for a few moments before withdrawing a very old, very faded purple shoebox that was tied shut with a faded green ribbon.
She sat on the floor and stared at it. It has been many, many years since she opened that shoebox which now rested in her lap. With trembling hands, she untied the ribbon, lifted off the cover, and looked inside. She reached in and lifted out a stack of photographs that were neatly wrapped with a faded green ribbon. In the top photograph in the stack was an image of her sister, who was waving while peeking out at her from behind the ribbon. On the other side of the ribbon was a young man with messy black hair and round glasses. He was grinning broadly at her, then looked down to the tiny bundle in his arms. She looked at the photo for a few moments, wiped away the moisture that was forming in her eyes then gently laid the stack next to her on the floor.
She again reached in the box and pulled out the wand that had once belonged to her sister. She briefly scowled at it and dropped it, as if it were on fire, beside the pictures. She retrieved a stack of letters that were bundled together in the same type of faded green ribbon, and laid them down beside the pictures and wand.
The last item in the box was the letter that Dumbledore had left with Harry when he was placed at their doorstep nearly sixteen years before. The letter that explained why he had to live with them and that asked them to care for Harry as their own. A pang of guilt washed over her as she lifted the envelope from the box. She opened the envelope and withdrew the letter. Enclosed with the letter was a small, square mirror. She didn't unfold the letter, she never wanted to read the words that it contained again, but she did remember the instructions on how to use the mirror from the first and only time she had read it.
She lifted the mirror to her face with trembling hands and watched her reflection looking back. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She dropped her hands, still holding the mirror, into her lap and looked down. She did not want to do this, this unnaturalness, this… 'magic' that she hated so.
She then noticed from the corner of her eye, the picture of Lily. She was now holding the baby in her arms and was looking directly at Petunia. Even through the tears in her eyes, she gave Petunia an encouraging smile, then looked sadly down at the child in her arms and hugged him. Petunia saw how thin and sickly the baby looked, almost skeletal, seemingly reflecting how she imagined Harry looked at that moment.
Petunia brought the mirror back to her face and saw in the reflection the tears that she didn't realize she was shedding. She quickly wiped her face, looked into the mirror and clearly said, "Albus Dumbledore."
She waited.
After a minute of staring at her own reflection, she stated again, this time a bit more loudly, "Albus Dumbledore!"
Still nothing. Maybe she was doing something wrong, maybe there was something else she was supposed to do that she had forgotten. She reached down, picked up the letter and opened it so she could only see the very bottom. It read, "If you ever need to speak with me or if there is any kind of an emergency, just hold the enclosed mirror and speak my name, 'Albus Dumbledore', and I shall appear."
Maybe he meant that he would appear in person? She tentatively glanced around the room, but saw no one. She looked back to the mirror and was about to speak again when she noticed that the reflection in the mirror was not her own, but of a very stern looking and much older woman. The woman looked haggard and tired, as if she hadn't slept in days.
She gasped and let go of the mirror, which dropped and rested in her lap. She looked tentatively into the mirror and said, "You aren't Dumbledore!"
"Of course I'm not!" snapped the stern looking woman in the mirror, "Professor Dumbledore is… well, he's… dead." The woman in the mirror squinted her eyes slightly and seemed to be studying Petunia. Suddenly, her eyes widened and a fierce scowl splayed across her face, "YOU!"
-----~-----
Professor McGonagall had just arrived in her office, the office that had been, until very recently, Professor Dumbledore's. She sat at her desk and rifled through various sheets of parchment, attempting to bury her worried thoughts in her work. After a few minutes, she realized that she was failing miserably. She leaned back in her chair, removed her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. Her thoughts drifted back to the previous day's wedding of Bill and Fleur Weasley.
A missing member of the Weasley's extended family overshadowed what should have been a happy and festive occasion. Sure, the wedding ceremony was beautiful and went as planned, and Molly outdid herself with the wonderful food that she had prepared for the reception. There was music, dancing and plenty of drink to go around, still, Professor McGonagall would overhear whispered conversations about the disappearance of Harry Potter. Ginny Weasley seemed to be in a daze the entire day, Ron Weasley at first seemed just a little down, but as the day progressed, he seemed to get steadily more morose, mostly from having to console Hermione and his mother, both of whom were prone to burst into tears at the mention of Harry's name.
She snapped out of her thoughts as the sound of someone clearing their throat came from behind her.
The portrait of Albus Dumbledore was smiling down at her from the wall.
"How was the wedding, Minerva? I so wish I could have been there."
She sighed sadly, "Oh, it was fine, Albus, considering..."
The portrait of Professor Dumbledore frowned, "Yes, our missing Mr. Potter."
"Oh, Albus… I don't know what to do. All of our efforts to find him have failed dismally. We have teams from the Order searching day and night and we've still not found a trace."
You mustn't give up hope, Minerva," said the portrait, "he will eventually turn up, one way or another."
"Yes, but he's been missing for almost a month. I'm also concerned about Miss Granger. She feels that she is responsible for Harry's disappearance. She's been searching every day on her own, and I believe she has been neglecting herself in doing so. I daresay the girl looked dreadful at the wedding yesterday, and from what I hear, Ronald Weasley had to practically drag her to the ceremony, but he probably shouldn't have bothered, considering that she found him halfway through the reception in, shall I say a 'compromising situation' with that Gabrielle Delacour girl. Strange, that Hermione didn't seem to care, she just…"
Professor McGonagall was startled by a voice that called out from behind her, which sounded like, "Albus Dumbledore."
She looked around. She was alone. She glanced up to the portraits of the former headmasters, all of whom were, or appeared to be, sleeping. She looked up questioningly to Dumbledore's portrait.
"The mirror on the bookshelf, Minerva" the portrait said.
She got up, walked to the bookshelf at the back of the office, and reached for a small mirror that was face down on top of it. As she reached for the small mirror, the voice called out again, "Albus Dumbledore!"
She picked up the mirror and saw within the reflection a rather disconcerted, horse-faced woman looking around behind her. McGonagall was about to speak when the woman looked back through the mirror, gasped, then abruptly dropped it. She heard the woman say, "You aren't Dumbledore!"
"Of course I'm not! Professor Dumbledore is… well, he's… dead."
The woman in the mirror's reflection looked stunned, she just stared back at her through the mirror. Something about that horse-faced woman seemed terribly familiar. She studied her face for a moment, and then the light of recognition blazed in her eyes.
"YOU!" she hissed, startling the horse-faced woman, "I recognize you! You are Harry Potter's aunt!"
"Yes, yes, know I am," said Petunia indignantly, "and you are?"
"I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, the acting Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
The woman in the mirror flinched at the mention of the school's proper name, and then asked, "Then why isn't Harry there at your school?"
"Mr. Potter left the school a month ago, along with all the other students." Informed McGonagall, "The rest of the school term was cancelled due to the… the passing of the headmaster." Minerva gave Dumbledore's portrait an apologetic look, which merely looked back at her and shrugged.
Petunia's face dropped at this news, "What do you mean, a month ago? We received a notice from that… school… of yours that said the term was extended until next week!"
"Poppycock!" exclaimed McGonagall indignantly, "The notice we sent out to all of the families clearly stated that the term would end early! We received notice that nobody was at King's Cross Station to meet your nephew, and that day he discovered that his family, your family, moved away without notifying him. Soon after that, he went missing, and..."
"I know where he is!" interrupted Petunia anxiously, "I read it in today's newspaper. He is at St Thomas' Hospital in a coma. His picture is in the paper! They have no idea who he is, so they're asking the public for identification! What if that man who killed Lily…"
The rest of her sentence wasn't heard. Professor McGonagall's face went deathly pale upon hearing the account. She dropped the mirror on the desk, jumped out of her seat and rushed to the fireplace. She grabbed a handful of floo powder and a moment later, had disappeared in a flash of green flames.
-----~-----
Ron and Hermione were at the Burrow, sitting at the kitchen table while Molly busied herself making breakfast for the Weasley clan. Most of the family had stayed the night, the only exceptions were, naturally, Bill and Fleur, who had left the Burrow the previous night for their honeymoon, and the estranged Percy, who made a brief appearance for the wedding ceremony, but, much to Molly's despair, didn't stay for the reception. After hours of convincing, Hermione reluctantly agreed to stay the night. Charlie, Ginny and the twins were still in their beds and Arthur was in the yard cleaning up after the previous night's festivities.
Ron glanced over at Hermione and watched her staring at the sausage she was pushing back and forth across her plate. Her hair seemed more disheveled than ever, and she had very dark circles under her eyes.
Ron let out a groan and said just loud enough so that only Hermione could hear, "Ugh, I'm so hung over. I shouldn't have let the twins talk me into drinking so much last night."
Normally, Hermione would have launched into him, admonishing him on the evils of drink and scolding him on his behavior with Fleur's little sister, which is exactly what Ron wanted to happen. Truthfully, he hadn't had very much to drink at all, but he hoped that maybe a nice argument was what Hermione needed to pull her mind out of the abyss that he could see her sinking into.
"That's too bad, Ronald." she simply said as she continued guiding the sausage around her plate.
She had called him 'Ronald,' that was never a good sign. He looked down at his own plate and sighed.
A minute later, the twins, Fred and George, made their way down the stairs and quietly seated themselves at the table. The twins looked at Ron and Hermione, glanced at each other with concerned looks, and then concentrated on the plates that their mother had just placed before them.
Molly looked around at all the miserable faces, then turned back to the cooker and wiped the tears that were starting to well up in her eyes.
Suddenly, everyone in the room jumped as green flames erupted in the fireplace, and a moment later, Professor McGonagall stepped into the room.
"Molly! Where's Arthur?" said McGonagall with panic evident in her voice. Everyone in the room seemed to be frozen. Nobody there had ever seen her in such an alarmed state.
"What are you waiting for…? Get Arthur NOW! We've found Harry!"
Ron and Hermione both immediately leapt to their feet, Ron dashing out of the door into the yard to retrieve his father while Hermione, nearly knocking George out of his seat, vaulted to Professor McGonagall, "Is he ok? Where is he?"
Ignoring Hermione, McGonagall turned to Molly, "We must assemble whatever Order members we can immediately, is it alright to meet here? As you know, the Headquarters is no longer available to us."
Everyone gasped as Hermione grabbed the Professor's arm and turned her so that they were facing each other once again and repeated, "Where is Harry?"
"Miss Granger!" said McGonagall, looking fully taken aback, "I would not expect this from any of my students, but you?"
"We're not your students anymore, we aren't returning to Hogwarts this fall…" said Hermione with a strange wildness in her eyes, "where is Harry?"
"What do you mean by that?" McGonagall asked with more than a bit of shock in her voice, "Surely, you are returning to school. The Board of Governors already approved the re-opening of Hogwarts, and you're the prime candidate for Head Girl this year!"
"Where is Harry?" said the furious Hermione for the fourth time as she drew her wand.
"Accio wand!" sounded from the across the room. Charlie Weasley was standing on the stairs holding his own, and then Hermione's wands. Ginny was standing next to him, staring at Hermione with a disbelieving look on her face. Arthur and Ron returned at the point where Charlie was disarming Hermione. They both froze, wearing equally shocked expressions.
Hermione spun angrily around and saw Charlie holding her wand. Her shoulders slumped in defeat as she turned back to McGonagall and said, more calmly, "Please, I can talk to him, he'll listen to me."
"I'm afraid Mr. Potter is in no condition to talk to anyone at the moment, as he is currently in a coma in a muggle hospital."
There came a collective gasp from around the room as both Hermione and Molly collapsed onto the floor. As the rest of the room's occupants leapt to help the fallen ladies, Ginny blanched and ran back up the stairs and into her room.
Within thirty minutes, the core members of the Order were seated around the Burrow's kitchen table while McGonagall related the conversation between Petunia Dursley and herself. Hermione paced the floor anxiously and listened as a plan to retrieve Harry was worked out. After another thirty minutes, the plan was complete and teams were set. A series of pops and cracks sounded from the Burrow's front yard as each team disapparated to their designated places around London's St Thomas' Hospital.
-----!-----
A middle aged woman with jet black hair, bright green eyes and an attractive, heart-shaped face approached the admissions desk of St Thomas' Hospital. A very thin, very tense looking teenage girl with bushy brown hair and tired, chocolate brown eyes accompanied her. The woman behind the admissions desk looked at the teenage girl and then said to her mother, "Oh, dear, are you looking to admit your daughter?"
The woman looked down at her 'daughter,' then realized what the clerk was asking and smiled, "Oh, no, actually we're here about the boy that was in the newspaper this morning."
"Oh! Wonderful!" the clerk said smiling, "We honestly didn't expect to get such a quick response. Truthfully, we wondered why the family hadn't checked the area hospitals sooner. Now," the clerk looked down, took a sheet from the top of a small stack of forms, and asked, "are you Harry's aunt?"
Hermione and the disguised Tonks exchanged surprised glances. They both thought the same thing, 'How did this woman know his name?'
"No," Tonks replied, I'm his mother, and this is his sister."
The clerk looked confused, "You're his mother? That's strange, his mother is talking to Doctor Peterson right now arranging his transfer to a private care facility." The clerk looked over both their shoulders and called out, "Excuse me, Mrs. Potter… Could we have a word please?"
Tonks and Hermione spun around and saw a tall, black haired woman speaking animatedly with a doctor. The woman turned around and her eyes locked onto Hermione. Both Tonks and Hermione immediately recognized who this woman was.
"It's the mudblood!" bellowed Bellatrix Lestrange as she and several other people who were milling around the reception area pulled out their wands. Tonks and Hermione immediately jumped over the reception desk for cover and drew their own wands.
All Hell broke loose as the room suddenly filled with screams and multi-colored flashes of spellfire. The moment they ducked behind the desk, a pair of powerful Reductors splintered the top of it.
"They aren't playing around!" commented Tonks as she brushed splinters out of her hair, "How many did you notice?"
"Five that I saw," answered Hermione as she laid over the cowering receptionist, "Maybe one more, I was a little distracted…"
"I saw six, including Bella… good eye, girl!" complimented Tonks as she fired a 'Stupefy' at one of the charging Death Eaters.
Hermione grabbed the terrified clerk's shoulders, pulled her face from the floor and demanded, "Where is Harry Potter?"
The woman had her eyes clenched shut and her arms wrapped over her head, too frightened to speak.
"Please," Hermione begged, playing the sympathy card, "My brother's in terrible danger, I must get to him before those people do!"
"S-s-second f-floor, long t-term c-c-care ward…" Hermione peered over the desk and ducked quickly back down as a green flash passes inches above her head. In the brief glance, she saw Bellatrix and another male Death Eater that she didn't recognize dashing up the stairway on the far side of the lobby.
"Bloody hell…" said Hermione under her breath. Tonks glanced at her after sending a full body bind across the lobby. She then saw Hermione close her eyes and draw a deep breath. "Hermione! Don't you dare…" warned Tonks, fully aware that nothing she could say would stop Hermione.
"Cover me!" she hissed to Tonks, then leapt over the desk and bolted for the stairs. Fortunately for Hermione, Lupin, Moody, and both Ron and Arthur Weasley chose that moment to charge in through the front doors. The muggle-clad Death Eaters were concentrating on firing spells at Hermione and didn't immediately notice the new arrivals. The Death Eaters in the lobby were quickly blind-sided and subdued.
Hermione was charging up the stairs and chanced a glance behind her, and seeing Ron just approaching the bottom stair, she called back, "Harry… Second floor… Long term care ward."
"Coming…" he replied.
Hermione burst through the door into the second floor hallway and was met by a wand pointing at her face, being held by Bellatrix herself.
"Oooh, a bonus!" cackled Bellatrix, "I get to finish wee baby potty's mudblood as well!"
As Bellatrix inhaled to cast the spell, Hermione heard from behind her, 'Stupefy!" She ducked just in time for Ron's spell to singe the hair on top of her head before continuing on to hit Bellatrix squarely in the chest.
Hermione glared back at Ron for an instant, but then gave him a small smile and said, "Thanks." Ron just shrugged and said, "I figured that 'the brightest witch of her age' would be smart enough to duck."
They raced down the hall, leaving Bellatrix sprawled on the floor, and headed toward the Long Term Care Ward.
They hurriedly approached the nurse's station in the ward and asked breathlessly, "Where is Harry Potter's room?"
The nurse looked blankly back at the two out of breath teens, "There's no one here by that name, miss…"
"No," puffed Hermione, that's the name of the boy from the paper!"
"Oh!" said the nurse with a smile, "So that's his name… Room seven, but you can't… he's with… Hey, wait!"
They ignored the rest of her words as they sprinted off towards room seven. They skidded to a halt as they reached the open door and looked in with their wands at the ready.
Harry was lying on a bed, eyes closed and unmoving, his face seemed as white as the sheets he was resting under. He was surrounded by clear plastic bags of varying colored liquids that were connected to him by a tangle of tubing and machines that were blinking and beeping, and even one machine that kept making an occasional 'Ping' sound. Standing over him, with his back to the door, was a man whose hands were manipulating some metal device towards Harry's face.
Just as the man was turning to see who had arrived, Hermione pointed her wand at him and yelled, "Stup…"
She froze.
The man's eyes widened in recognition and he said to his daughter, "Hermione? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, my!" she managed to say, "Oh, no, Daddy, you have to get out of here!" her mind jumped to the Death Eaters lurking around, "No! You have to hide!" Her imagination then jumped to the lurking Death Eaters finding her father's hiding place, "Oh, no, Ron! Can you…" Her mind jumped to Ron's less-than-stellar apparation skills and his very recently acquired license to apparate, but considered the alternative and continued, "Ron, can you side-along my father to the Burrow? I'll get Harry."
Mr. Granger looked back and forth between the agitated teens and gave a weak protest, "But this boy's teeth are broken… I'm right in the middle…"
Ron looked at Mr. Granger in surprise, then back to Hermione with a confident nod, "Ok, no problem."
At that moment, the desk nurse arrived at the doorway, "I'm sorry, Doctor Granger, they just rushed right past me and…"
Hermione rolled her eyes, pointed her wand at the nurse and said, "Obliviate!"
The nurse's eyes glazed over and she slowly backed out of the room and wandered off.
Hermione then wrapped her arms around Harry. She gasped and a look of shock washed over her face as she discovered that she could feel each of the ribs on his thin frame through his pajamas. She nodded to Ron, and with a pair of soft 'cracks,' all four people disappeared from the room, leaving behind dangling tubing, angrily howling machines and a very frustrated pair of Death Eaters, who had just arrived at the doorway.
Bellatrix was not looking forward to making her report to Voldemort.