Percy Jackson and the Heir of Slytherin [Book 2]

3) The Burrow

"Let Hedwig out," Harry told me, "she can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."

George handed me the hairpin and a moment later, Hedwig was flying free.

"So, what's the story, Harry?" Ron said impatiently. "What's been happening?"

Harry told us everything. About Dobby and the fiasco of pudding. About the Dursleys. Everything.

"Very fishy," Fred said finally.

"Definitely dodgy," George agreed. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," Harry said. "I told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall.

Fred and George looked at each other.

"What, you think he was lying to me?" Harry asked.

"Well," Fred said, "put it this way — house elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't usually use it without their masters' permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

I knew where this was going, so I just placed my head on Ron's shoulder after fell asleep.

I'm not a big fan of people insulting Draco. He is my boyfriend, after all. You're probably thinking, 'you're 11, Percy, you'll just get over him in a week.' We'll you're wrong. I'd been falling for him since I first talked to him in Madam Malkin's. We cuddled on the couch in his room before we even realized we were cuddling. He sprinted with me in his arms last year out of the forest when I'd been bitten by a snake. He'd held me when it hurt. If Harry hadn't been in the Hospital Wing, Draco would have been by my side. And Draco only has to pretend to hate Harry and Ron and everyone else because his dad would beat him if he didn't. Draco's never bothered to pretend to hate me.

Ron shook me awake just before we hit the ground. We bumped and I glanced around a little panicked before I remembered where I was.

Ron snickered at me. I stuck my tongue out at him.

The Weasley house could have once been normal looking. But rooms had been added so it was several stories high, lopsided, and looked like it was being held up by magic. There were 4 chimneys on top of the roof. A crooked sign had been planted in front of the house that read 'The Burrow.' There were tons of old boots and a rusty cauldron surrounding the door. Chickens bobbed their way around the yard. It was awesome.

"It's not much," Ron said to Harry. It was his first time here, after all.

"It's brilliant," Harry chirped.

We got out of the car and Fred spoke up, "Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly, and wait for Mum to call us for breakfast. Then Ron, you come bounding downstairs going, 'Mum, look who turned up in the night!' And she'll be all pleased to see Harry and no one need ever know we flew the car."

"Right," Ron said. "Come on, Harry, I sleep at the—"

Ron suddenly turned green, and we all wheeled around to look at the house.

Mrs. Weasley marched across the yard, scattering chickens. She was a short, plump, kind faced woman and she looked terrifying.

"Ah," Fred said.

"Oh dear," George said.

Mrs. Weasley halted in front of us, looking at our guilty faces. She wore a flowered apron, her wand sticking out of her pocket. And she still terrified me.