"Didn't know you was into gingers, Malfoy?"
"Shut up Weasley"
-
Gemma Weasley shared many similarities with her siblings, the ginger hair, pale skin, freckles and a super sense of humour, yet she was the one that stood out from them all. Even her tw...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The moment Harry stepped through the bedroom door, I could see the confusion and anger etched into his face. I stayed back as Ron and Hermione rushed to greet him, my arms folded tightly across my chest. There was so much we couldn't tell him—so much we hadn't been allowed to say. And I knew it was going to hit him hard.
"Harry!" Ron called out, his voice full of relief.
Hermione pulled him into a hug, her face full of that familiar blend of concern and guilt. I tried to catch Harry's eye, but when he finally looked over at me, I didn't know what to say. "Hey, Harry," I managed, but it felt weak, like it wasn't enough. His expression said it all: anger, confusion, and frustration at being left in the dark for so long.
"Are you alright? We've heard them talking about the dementor attack, you must tell us everything." Hermione says, not even letting Harry walk through the door properly.
"Let the man breathe Hermione" Ron adds before Hermione continues.
"And this hearing at the ministry. It's just outrageous! I've looked it up, they simply can't expel you." She shakes her head, obviously worked up about the situation. "It's completely unfair!"
"Yeah." Harry simply says, walking into the room. "There's a lot of that going around at the moment."
"So what is this place?" He asks grimacing at the decor.
"Headquaters." I simply say, sitting back onto the bed, earning a confused look of Harry. He obviously had questions.
"Of the Order Of The Phoenix." Hermione adds. "It's a secret society - Dumbledore formed it back when they first fought You-Know-Who."
"You couldn't have put any of this in a letter, I suppose?" Harry replies, obviously irritated we hadn't wrote. "I've gone all summer without a scrap of news."
We all looked at each other, and I knew that one of us had to explain, even though I didn't want to. So, I took a step forward. "It wasn't up to us, Harry. Dumbledore... Dumbledore made the call," I said, my voice quieter than I intended. "He didn't want you to know too much. He thought it was safer that way."
I hated saying the words because I knew how much they would hurt. I hated that Dumbledore had put us in this position. Harry had been left at the Dursleys for weeks, cut off from everything, while the rest of us had been here, at Grimmauld Place, doing whatever we could to prepare for what was coming.
Harry's fists clenched. "Safer? How is not knowing anything safer? I thought something had happened to you!" His voice rose, and I could feel the guilt twisting in my gut.
Ron stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation. "It wasn't our idea, mate. Trust me, we wanted to tell you."
"We argued with Dumbledore about it," Hermione added, her voice pleading for him to understand. "But... there wasn't anything we could do."
