Harry Potter - Fanfiction

Year 5 - Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

This summer is possibly the hottest yet. Hermione and I spending almost every day of our first week back outside with our parents, recounting them of the events from school and what we learned for the year; it is rather fascinating for our parents to hear about it.

Hermione receives the Daily Prophet, to ensure nothing big has happened yet with regards to Lord Voldemort.

"It's certainly not going to be in the news, especially when they don't want to believe he's back," I tell her one afternoon while she scans through the paper.

"You never know," she mumbles, half ignoring me.

"Draco would let me know in his letters if anything drastic happened before it even reaches the news," I push the matter further; As promised Draco sent his first letter the moment holiday's started.

She looks up at me grumpily. "I wouldn't be so trusting of that."

"Hermione, I trust him... That is all that should matter."

"We'll talk again when you're the first person he brings to You-Know-Who," she answers, looking back down at the Daily Prophet. "All they talk about is how horrible Harry is."

I sigh as I stand up and head back inside to my room upstairs.

     

By the end of the week, all seemed to be normal until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley show up at our house, with several other wizards I have never seen before.

Once they explain shortly to our parents that for safety reasons, they will need to take us somewhere for the rest of the holiday they transport Hermione and I to a neighborhood far out of town.

The grimy fronts of the surrounding houses are not welcoming at all; some of them have broken windows, glimmering doors and heaps of rubbish lay outside several sets of front steps.

"Why on earth are we here?" I ask with a slight tone of disgust.

"We'll explain inside, come with us," answers Mrs. Weasley.

Mr. Weasley takes out a small object which looks like a silver cigarette lighter from his pocket, which I notice as a Put-Outer.

He clicks it once and the nearest streetlamp goes out with a pop. Mr. Weasley keeps clicking it until every lamp in the square is extinguished and the only light in the square is coming from the curtained windows and the sickle moon overhead.

"Need to ensure the Muggles don't see anything should they look out their windows," he murmurs.

We follow Mr. and Mrs. Weasley across the road and onto the pavement.

"Here we are," says Mrs. Weasley, handing Hermione and I each a piece of parchment. "Read it quickly and memorize it, don't say anything out loud."

We look down at the piece of paper, the narrow handwriting written there says:

'The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.'

"You two ready?" she asks.

We nod before she takes the papers and sets them on fire with her wand tip.

I look up at the houses to look for number twelve, however, we are standing outside of number eleven and to the right of that is number thirteen.

Only now do I understand what is going on. A Fidelius Charm has been placed on number twelve, Grimmauld Place.

"Now to get in just memorize what you just read, alright?" she says calmly.