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Scales, Wings and War	By : PaintTheLily Category: Harry Potter > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 13755 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the characters pertaining to the series. These are property of J. K. Rowling. I do not make any money from the fanfiction that I write.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Chapter 3: Trespassing

Harry was sitting on the very edge of his bed. He’d been given express warning by letter that he should leave all the lights off once his relatives had left, to make it look like they had gone on holiday. Now he was sitting in the darkness waiting for people to come and take him away from this place. It made him feel somewhat like a damsel in distress.

Knowing what might take place tonight made Harry somewhat jumpy. Every tiny rustle of leaves outside the window was Voldemort coming to get him, every hoot of an owl an advanced warning of what was to come. He stayed away from the windows, afraid that someone would see him move. He had no idea what to do to occupy himself during the long wait, so he started to think about everything that had led up to this.

He knew, really, that the war had started long before he was born, but he felt like this whole war revolved around himself. Voldemort had marked him when he was only a baby, and the prophecy he had heard in the Department of Mysteries in his fifth year made him realise that he was the only person in the Wizarding world who could kill the lunatic. It freaked him out. He was to be made a murderer to save the people around him. Never mind that he was to be killing an evil wizard who tortured people, he was being asked to sacrifice his innocence for other people.

He did feel like it was something he wanted to do, to avenge those people in his life that had been killed for no good reason; he just wished he had been given more choice in the matter. It was very pressuring to know that you were the only person capable of completing a task like this – that the lives of thousands, perhaps millions, were in your hands, and if you failed…

Harry didn’t like to think about that alternative. Dumbledore had always encouraged him, made him believe that he could succeed. Thinking of the former Headmaster, Harry’s mind wandered to the blood wards surrounding his house. He had no idea how they worked, but he was nevertheless curious. He knew that the wards protected him because the blood of his family resided in the building where he lived, but if it was somehow tied to the fact that Voldemort couldn’t touch his mother’s blood, that had now been changed with the rebirth of the Dark Lord’s body. If they worked in a different way, then he was still confused, because, from what he had been taught, once a wizard died any spells he had cast failed. If that had been the case then the blood wards would have fallen before the summer, and he shouldn’t have been brought back here anyway.

Harry had trusted Dumbledore greatly; he just wished that the old man had explained more.

Just as Harry finished that thought he heard the front door creak open and then close again. He got up from his place on the living room floor and drew his wand, before creeping into the hallway. Standing just inside the door, squinting through the darkness, was Remus Lupin. Harry was able to identify him with little difficulty since he’d been in the house as the sun went down, his eyes adjusting to the changing light as it happened.

“Remus,” Harry called softly.

“Harry, is that you?” Remus called back just as quietly. “I can’t see a dratted thing in this light.”

“You’ll get used to it in a moment,” Harry replied. “Doesn’t your werewolf help you see better in the dark?” he queried, suddenly cautious as to whether the man before him was really Remus Lupin.

“It helps me adjust quicker,” said the man, now walking towards where he could clearly see the boy. “It still takes a few seconds to get going though.” He was about to walk forward and hug Harry when he sighed. “I better follow Moody’s protocols, he’d be furious if I didn’t. What did Sirius get me for Christmas during your fourth year?”

Harry gulped. Thinking of his godfather brought back memories that he didn’t much like to relive. He decided to just get it over with as quickly as possible. “A plush wolf and dog, each carrying a heart,” he whispered, so quietly that Remus wouldn’t have caught it without his wolf’s extra-sensitive hearing, even in the silent house. The rugged man ran forward and hugged the boy he considered as his own son.

Moving into the living room, they sat in the dark to await the rest of the Order members, murmuring quietly to each other to catch up on the latest news.

Charlie Weasley walked along the dark Surrey street, his red hair shining dimly in the lamp light. Somewhere not too far behind him were Ron and Hermione, looking very much like a young couple out for an evening stroll. The evening air was warm around the man, an after effect of the heat wave that had been plaguing the country for the past few weeks. Moths danced around the street lights, creating fluttering shadows on the path before him. Intrigued, he tried to follow the shapes, to see if they formed patterns or pictures, anything that would take his mind of tonight’s task.

Charlie sighed inwardly. Mad-eye Moody was too paranoid for his own good, though in Charlie’s opinion, it would be extremely useful on a night like tonight. The gnarled, one-eyed wizard had prepared for nearly every circumstance, to make sure that Harry’s escape from his relatives’ home went as smoothly as possible. He’d been wandering the streets for a couple of hours now, having gotten off a muggle train sometime in the late afternoon and then eating dinner at a small café. All the Order members involved in tonight’s plan had been creeping into the area for the past few days, making sure this adventure didn’t seem to sudden. Various muggle homes were to be accessed to make this seem as natural as possible. Charlie was to enter the house of a muggle family a couple of streets over.

He was nearly there. He kept his eyes straight forward. As worried as he was that someone might be watching him, he was currently playing the part of a muggle who had no clue that something like this would be going on tonight. He reached their front door, pulled some keys out of his pocket and made a fuss about finding the right one for the key hole. Under his breath he whispered a wandless alohamora. He picked out one of the keys, placed it in the door and turned the handle. Only someone looking right over his shoulder would have realised that he hadn’t turned the key in the lock.

A quickly muttered silencing charm made sure that the door didn’t creak as he pushed it open and entered the sleeping muggles’ home. He wasn’t to be here for long. He waited for about 5 minutes, wandering around quietly and not really thinking about his surroundings, before making a show of putting out the milk bottles, disillusioning himself and sneaking out of the front door before it closed.

Stage one was complete. He wasn’t really sure if it was necessary to take these extra precautions, but it couldn’t hurt. He, along with most of the other Order members, had been shocked when Moody had suggested breaking into the homes of muggles. It wasn’t something that they particularly wanted to do, but once Moody had explained his plan more thoroughly, it made sense. He was somewhat disappointed in Moody that the whole plan was going ahead without Harry’s permission.

Charlie had only met the boy once so far, but it was enough to leave a lasting impression. He really hoped the Order didn’t alienate their Saviour by leaving him out of their plans. According to his mother, it had been bad enough the summer before Harry’s fifth year, when Dumbledore had deliberately left him out of the plans and the poor kid had received no contact from his friends over the summer. Charlie felt like he knew Harry already, what with all the stories his mother had been telling him.

Molly Weasley was a somewhat over-enthusiastic parent, even to those who weren’t her blood children. Ever since he had moved to Romania he received weekly letters from his mother. They kept him nicely up to date, containing every minute detail about every blood or surrogate family member she considered in her care. The rolls of parchment were longer than the essays he had needed to write for Potions when he’d been at Hogwarts.

It took him a lot more time to reach Harry’s house than it had to reach the muggle residence because the disillusion charm would be easily detected if he moved too quickly. As it was, the air still shimmered slightly around him as he made his way towards Privet Drive, but the darkness of the night made the slight haze nearly impossible to see. As he approached the house he knocked into the bins slightly, causing Lupin, who had arrived a little while earlier, to peer out the door, giving Charlie a chance to sneak inside.

He moved quickly out of the hallway and into the living room, where he faced half of the Order, all with their wands pointed towards him. His father asked him the question to determine his identity, being the most qualified of those in the room about matters concerning his second eldest son.

“At what age did you tell me you were gay?” his father asked quietly.

Charlie could feel the tension in the room, as everyone there expected his answer to be ‘never’. Instead he replied “Twelve.” Arthur nodded in confirmation.

Harry approached him from across the room.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” he said by way of greeting.

Charlie felt a strange pull in his blood. He was momentarily startled. It was something he hadn’t felt in years; not since the last time he was this close to Harry, during the Quidditch World Cup, though he didn’t immediately make the connection.

“How ya’ holding up Harry?” the tall redhead asked.

“Been doing alright I suppose. No worse than usual,” the boy replied. “Looking forward to getting out of here forever though.” Harry shuddered briefly as the events of the past week flashed through his mind. “Very glad,” he said passionately.

Charlie was a little confused, expecting Harry to express a little less fear at the idea of staying here. He’d never met the muggles that Harry had lived with, but apart from a rant one summer about his uncle putting bars at his window, Charlie had never heard anything bad about Harry’s relatives.

He didn’t think about it much longer, because as suddenly as they had turned on him, the whole room sprang into action, pointing their wands at Ron and Hermione. Harry asked the question of these two. Charlie didn’t really pay attention. He was thinking over the plan again. Tonight’s drama was about to begin.
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Scales, Wings and War