Not Alone After All

Chapter XXXVIII

The atmosphere was tense the next day as Harry and Laura waited for the Weasley's. They had double-checked everything and were sure of having all they needed with them.

"They'll be driving, of course?" Uncle Vernon decided to ask as they waited in silence in the dining room. Harry and Laura shared a look. They hadn't thought about that. Surely, they wouldn't come flying, would they? And surely, they wouldn't just apparate in their house.

"I think so," Harry answered hesitantly.

As soon as five o'clock came and went, Uncle Vernon's patience was getting thin.

"They're late!" the big man yelled at the children after he went to check the front door.

"How is this our fault, again?" Laura asked him, her face blank of emotion. He nearly growled, but instead walked to the living room, where Petunia and Dudley were sitting watching the telly.

Five thirty arrived and even Laura was starting to lose hope. They could hear an argument in the living room, Vernon and Petunia complaining about having to endure them until the end of the summer or complaining about how unreliable their kind was.

And then there was a scream.

Dudley passed running by them, rushing upstairs. And he was... holding his behind.

"What is it?" Laura asked as they stepped through to the living room. They were about to panic when they heard a voice from inside the blocked fireplace. Harry and Laura shared a panicked look.

"Ouch," complained a muffled voice. "This isn't going to work, Fred. Go back, tell George - ouch! No, George, go back!" It was Mrs Weasley and the twins. Laura couldn't help but let out a snicker, which earned a pointed look from Aunt Petunia.

"What is this?" Uncle Vernon asked furiously. "What is this!" He repeated.

"They can travel by fire," Harry blurted out. "It's a way of travel. It's just that you've blocked the fireplace."

"Again, not our fault," Laura told him coldly.

"Little Potter was that you?" Said a muffled voice. "Ouch, Ron, that was my foot!" Laura chuckled at Fred.

"What happened here? Did something go wrong?" Ron's voice asked. If Hermione was there, she would have rolled her eyes so hard they would have gotten stuck to her brain.

"Oh, no, everything went perfectly, here Ron," Fred said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, we're all having a great time," George added, his tone the same as his brother's, except his voice sounded like he was pressed against a wall.

"Harry, what's wrong with your fireplace?" Mrs Weasley asked him. Harry looked like he was trying too hard not to burst out laughing.

"They closed it up," Laura spoke up in his place. "Replaced it with an electric one."

"Oh, ecklectic, you say," Mr Weasley said. "Does it have a plug?"

"How are we going to get out of this?" Ron suddenly spoke up. "I don't want to be stuck in this fake fireplace forever!"

"Wait a second, everyone, I can fix this," Mr Weasley's voice was heard. "Back away, Harry, Laura." They both did immediately what the man had said, back up to the sofa. Uncle Vernon, however, took a step forward.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL FIX-"

There was an explosion. White ash from the electric fireplace covered the room, along with Uncle Vernon's hair and moustache, ageing him another thirty years.