Thursday, January 19, 2006
CHAPTER 2 - Freaked Out
A/N: Most of the part were taken from HP's GOF. Enjoy.
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It had been 13 years since Dumbledore left Harry at the doorsteps of his aunt and uncle; and it had been 3 years since Harry had been told that he was a wizard, and he would be attending a school named Hogwarts, School of Whitchcraft and Wizardry.
It was the summer holidays after his 3rd year at Hogwarts, and Harry was back in Number 4, Pivet Drive, with his aunt and uncle. It was nearly midnight when Harry was lying on his bed, tossing and turning. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep. It was what seems like seconds when he woke up with a start. A sharp high-pitched voice was heard. "Potter! Wake up now!" Harry groaned, lying in his bed for a while more, before he heard another cry that he stood up and get changed.
Aunt Petunia was already cooking breakfast when he came down. "Now, look after the bacon. Don't you dare to let it burn." Aunt Petunia was still angry about yesterday's breakfast, where Harry had let the sausages burnt while he was reading a letter from Ron saying that he and his father will come fetch him some time this morning.
Harry had just finish scooping out the bacons when Aunt Petunia came in with Dudley, followed by Uncle Veron. They were halfway through the breakfast, when they heard loud bangings and scrapings coming from behind the Dursleys' boarded-up fireplace, which had a fake coal fire plugged in front of it. They went into the living room to see what caused the sound.
"What is it?" gasped Aunt Petunia, who walked into the room and was staring, terrified, toward the fire. "What is it, Vernon?"
But they were left in doubt barely a second longer. Voices could be heard from inside the blocked fireplace.
"Ouch! Fred, no - go back, go back, there's been some kind of mistake - tell George not to -OUCH! George, no, there's no room, go back quickly and tell Ron-"
"Maybe Harry can hear us, Dad - maybe he'll be able to let us out-"
There was a loud hammering of fists on the boards behind the electric fire. "Harry? Harry, can you hear us?" The Dursleys rounded on Harry like a pair of angry wolverines.
"What is this?" growled Uncle Vernon. "What's going on?"
Harry approached the fireplace and called through the boards.
"Mr. Weasley? Can you hear me?"
The hammering stopped. Somebody inside the chimney piece said, "Shh!"
"Mr. Weasley, it's Harry ... the fireplace has been blocked up. You won't be able to get through there."
"Damn!" said Mr. Weasley's voice. "What on earth did they want to block up the fireplace for?"
"They've got an electric fire," Harry explained.
"Really?" said Mr. Weasley's voice excitedly. "Electric, you say? With a plug?Gracious, I must see that.... Let's think ... ouch, Ron!"
Ron's voice now joined the others'.
"What are we doing here? Has something gone wrong?"
"Oh no, Ron," came Fred's voice, very sarcastically. "No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up."
"Yeah, we're having the time of our lives here," said George, whose voice sounded muffled, as though he was squashed against the wall.
"Boys, boys. . ." said Mr. Weasley vaguely. "I'm trying to think what to do.... Yes ... only way. . . Stand back, Harry."
Harry retreated to the sofa. Uncle Vernon, however, moved forward."Wait a moment!" he bellowed at the fire. "What exactly are you going to -"
BANG.
The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up fireplace burst outward, expelling Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings.
Aunt Petunia shrieked and fell backward over the coffee table; Uncle Vernon caught her before she hit the floor, and gaped, speechless, at the Weasleys, all of whom had bright red hair, including Fred and George, who were identical to the last freckle.
"Who is this?" yelled Uncle Veron. "What are you doing in my house!"
Tall, thin, and balding, Arthur moved toward Uncle Vernon, his handoutstretched, but Uncle Vernon backed away several paces, dragging Aunt Petunia. Words utterly failed Uncle Vernon. His shirt was covered in white dust, which had settled in his hair and mustache and made him look as though he had just aged thirty years.
"Ah, you must be Harry's Uncle. Hi, I'm Arthur Weasley, and these are my sons,who are Harry's best friends, Fred, George and Ron." replied Arthur, smiling at Uncle Veron, who stepped back knowing they're wizards. Didn't Harry tell you that we're coming for him?"
Then Arthur spent a good 15 minutes telling the Dursleys that Dumbledore had given permission for Harry to spend the rest of his summer at his place, and he had sent a letter to tell Harry to let them know that he was coming today.
"Harry, why did you not tell your aunt and uncle about it?" said Arthur, in mocking angry.
Harry meanwhile tried hard to force back a laugh.
"Er - yes - sorry about that," said Mr. Weasley, lowering his hand and looking over his shoulder at the blasted fireplace. "It's all my fault. It just didn't occur to me that we wouldn't be able to get out at the other end. I had your fireplace connected to the Floo Network, you see - just for a morning, you know, so we could get Harry. Muggle fireplaces aren't supposed to be connected, strictly speaking - but I've got a useful contact at the Floo Regulation Panel and he fixed it for me. I can put it right in a jiffy, though, don't worry. I'll light a fire to send the boys back, and then I can repair your fireplace before I Disapparate."
Harry was ready to bet that the Dursleys hadn't understood a single word of this. They were still gaping at Mr. Weasley, thunderstruck. Aunt Petunia and Dudley staggered upright again and hid behind Uncle Vernon.
"So, Harry!" said Mr. Weasley brightly. "Got your trunk ready?"
"It's upstairs," said Harry, grinning back.
"We'll get it," said Fred at once. Winking at Harry, he and George left the room. They knew where Harry's bedroom was, having once rescued him from it in the dead of night.
"Well," said Mr. Weasley, swinging his arms slightly, while he tried to find words to break the very nasty silence. "Very - erm - very nice place you've got here."
As the usually spotless living room was now covered in dust and bits of brick, this remark didn't go down too well with the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon's face purpled once more, and Aunt Petunia started chewing her tongue again. However, they seemed too scared to actually say anything.
Mr. Weasley was looking around. He loved everything to do with Muggles. Harry could see him itching to go and examine the television and the video recorder.
"They run off electricity, do they?" he said knowledgeably. "Ah yes, I can see the plugs. I collect plugs," he added to Uncle Vernon. "And batteries. Got a very large collection of batteries. My wife thinks I'm mad, but there you are."
Uncle Vernon clearly thought Mr. Weasley was mad too. He moved ever so slightly to the right, screening Aunt Petunia from view, as though he thought Mr. Weasley might suddenly run at them and attack.
Harry could hear the clunk of his trunk on the stairs as Fred and George cameback into the room carrying Harry's school trunk.
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A/N: Well, end of Chapter 2. I know about 3/4 of this comes from GOF, I promise the remaining Chapters will not be that much. ^.^
written by Kuraire Claire-`
