2.1

𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗧𝗔𝗟

ACT TWO, CHAPTER ONE
back at grimmauld place . . .
yay.

"GET UP, MISS Lestrange," a very familiar, drawling voice ordered.

At first, Penelope Lestrange thought she was dreaming. There was no possible way that someone would be in her dormitory at around two in the morning. But then she felt a presence next to her bed. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, and she blinked blearily at the figure above her — long hair and a long black cloak. Even though it was still dark in the dormitory, Penelope knew who it was.

"Professor Snape?" she asked groggily, pushing herself to rest on her elbows. "What—"

"You need to come with me," Snape stated. "Your belongings will be transferred later."

She looked around at her dormitory. The rest of the girls were still asleep — Daphne was stirring a little, but nevertheless, it was still quiet. Penelope, still very confused, arose from her bed. She slipped her Converse on — and just like that night in the kitchens with Ron, it looked weird with her Weird Sisters t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms — but she didn't care.

They walked down into the common room together and exited, the stone door concealing itself back into the wall. Snape didn't say a word as they climbed the steps from the dungeons to go to the entrance hall.

"Professor, I'm supposed to be going to Aunt Andromeda's and Uncle Ted's—" Penelope began.

"There's been a change of plans," Snape revealed as they set off towards the Headmaster's office. "I passed Professor McGonagall on her way back to the Gryffindor Tower. She quickly explained everything, and it seems . . ." He cast his dark eyes down at her. "Mr. Weasley has asked for you. Also, you have knowledge of the Order."

Concern filled Penelope's heart. "What happened?"

"His father has been attacked. All of you are going back to Grimmauld Place."

Despite what Penelope thought about Grimmauld Place, she was more so worried. Ron's father was attacked? By what? She was still tired, but she started to become a little more awake at this news.

They finally made it to the Gargoyle statue. Penelope had only been in there once — it was back in second year, when Dumbledore had brought her in to talk about the Chamber of Secrets. People were whispering about her being the heir of Slytherin, even though that wasn't true at all.

"Fizzing Whizbee," Snape recited.

Instantly, the Gargoyle sprang to life and leaped aside. The wall behind it split in two to reveal a spiral stone staircase that was continuously moving upwards. Snape and Penelope stepped onto the moving staircase and the wall closed behind them with a thud. They moved upwards in tight circles until they reached a highly polished oak door with a brass knocker shaped like a griffin.

Inside, Penelope could hear some voices. Snape rapped thrice on the griffin knocker, and came a voice that was no doubt Dumbledore that said come in. He opened the door and entered, Penelope following. She entered to see Dumbledore, McGonagall, all of the Weasley children, Harry, and Venus Black there. All of them looked worried.

"Good evening, Miss Lestrange," Dumbledore greeted.

"Hey," she replied. "So . . . Grimmauld Place, huh?"

"How're we going?" Fred asked, looking very shaken, making Penelope frown. "Floo powder?"

"No, Floo powder is not safe at the moment, the Network is being watched," Dumbledore answered. "You will be taking a Portkey." He gestured to the old kettle that was lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back . . . I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you—"

There was suddenly a flash of flame right in the middle of the office. All it left behind was a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor.

"It is Fawkes' warning," Dumbledore revealed, catching the feather in his hand. "She must know you're out of your beds . . . Minerva, go and head her off — tell her any story — Severus, you too—"

McGonagall was gone in a wish of a tartan and Snape was gone in the swirl of a black cloak.

"He says he'll be delighted," a bored voice announced, and Penelope turned to see it was an old headmaster portrait with a Slytherin banner — Phineas Nigellus, she guessed. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in houseguests . . ."

"Come here, then," Dumbledore instructed to the group. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us . . ." They all gathered around Dumbledore's desk. "You have all used a Portkey before?" Everyone nodded except Venus, but they all put a hand on the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three then . . . one . . . two . . . three."

A powerful jerk was felt in Penelope's stomach. The ground vanished from underneath her and she held onto the kettle, ignoring how she was hitting the others as they sped forward in a swirl of colors and a rush of wind. Finally, her feet landed on the floor. She blinked a couple times to regain her senses.

Sure enough, they were in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place — the very same place they had that conversation about Voldemort all those months ago. The only sources of light were the fire and a guttering candle, which was illuminating the remains of dinner.

"Back again, the blood traitor brats, is it true their father's dying . . . ?" the very familiar voice of Kreacher questioned.

"Oh, go away, Kreacher," Penelope stated, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Not right now."

"OUT!" a second voice roared, and Kreacher disappeared through the door to the hall with a malevolent look. Sirius was hurrying towards them all, an anxious look on his face as he helped Ginny up off the floor. "What's going on? Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured—"

"Ask Harry," Fred responded.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," George agreed.

Both the twins, Ginny, Venus, and Penelope were staring at Harry. Kreacher's footsteps even stopped on the stairs outside. Penelope crossed her arms as she waited for the story.

"It was—" Harry began. "I had a — a kind of — vision . . ."

He then began to tell them the story about Mr. Weasley getting attacked. Harry's dream had him watching from the sidelines as the snake bit his fangs into him. Penelope stared at the floor for a moment before looking up. Fred, George, and Ginny were staring at Harry accusingly (what the fuck?), Venus looked a little shaken up, and Ron's face was extremely white. Feeling brave, Penelope reached out her hand and took Ron's in it. Ron didn't hesitate to lace their fingers together for comfort.

Fred then turned to Sirius. "Is Mum here?

"She probably doesn't even know what's happened yet," Sirius responded. "The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore's letting Molly know now."

"We've got to go to St. Mungo's," Ginny stated urgently, looking around at her brothers and how they were all still in their pajamas. "Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything—?"

"Hang on, you can't go tearing off to St. Mungo's!"

"'Course we can go to St. Mungo's if we want, he's our dad!" Fred insisted.

"And how are you going to explain how you knew Arthur was attacked before the hospital even let his wife know?" Sirius inquired.

"What does that matter?" George snapped.

"It matters because we don't want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of miles away! Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?"

The twins looked like they could care less about what the Ministry thought. Ron was still white-faced and silent, but he continued to hold Penelope's hand like it was his lifeline.

"Somebody else could have told us . . ." Ginny voiced. "We could have heard it somewhere other than Harry . . ."

"Like who?" Sirius asked impatiently. "Listen, your dad's been hurt while on duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order's—"

"We don't care about the dumb Order!" Fred shouted.

"It's our dad dying we're talking about!" George yelled.

"Your father knew what he was getting into, and he won't thank you for messing things up for the Order!" Sirius exclaimed angrily. "This is how it is — this is why you're not in the Order — you don't understand — there are things worth dying for!"

"Easy for you to say, stuck here!" Fred bellowed. "I don't see you risking your neck!"

"Guys," Penelope interrupted, noticing how the color in Sirius' face drained and how he looked like he wanted to hit Fred. "Okay, hey, shit has obviously hit the fan, but arguing with each other will not get us anywhere. Let's all just take a step back, yeah?"

Sirius sighed. "Penelope's right. I know it's hard, but we've all got to act as though we don't know anything yet. We've got to stay put, at least until we hear from your mother, all right?"

Fred and George still looked angry. Ginny, however, walked over to the nearest chair and instantly sank into it. Penelope gently tugged on Ron's hand to encourage them to sit. They sat down, Venus and Harry along with them. The twins glared at Sirius for another minute before finally taking seats on either side of Ginny.

"That's right, come on, let's all . . . let's all have a drink while we're waiting," Sirius suggested. "Accio Butterbeer!"

He rose his wand as he spoke. Eight bottles came flying towards them out of the pantry. They skidded along the table — scattering the debris of Sirius' dinner in the process — and stopped neatly in front of them. Penelope managed to open her butterbeer with one hand (Ron still hadn't let go of her other one, but she didn't really mind.) For a while, that was all they did — drink butterbeer. The room was silent besides the crackling of the kitchen fire and the soft thud of their bottles on the table.

A burst of fire, just like the one in Dumbledore's office, appeared midair and illuminated the dirty plates in front of them. They all gave cries of shock — except Penelope, who honestly just wanted to go back to sleep but knew that would be insanely rude — as a scroll of parchment fell onto the table with a single golden Phoenix tail feather.

"Fawkes!" Sirius said at once as he snatched up the parchment. "That's not Dumbledore's writing — it must be a message from your mother — here—" He thrust the letter into George's hand.

George ripped it open and began to read out loud. "Dad is still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo's now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Mum." He looked around the table. "Still alive . . . but that makes it sound . . ."

There was no need to finish the silence. That made it sound like Mr. Weasley was barely alive. Penelope glanced worryingly over to Ron. He was staring at the back of his mother's letter intently.

"He's going to be okay," Penelope told Ron quietly.

Ron looked up at her, his eyes miserable. "How do you know?"

"I may not know him, but I know you." She offered him a small smile. "You're a fighter, along with the rest of your siblings. There's no doubt your dad's one, too."

"I'm scared, P."

She nodded in understanding. "And it's okay to be."

They went silent again. All of them sat there for a very long time. Sirius had once even suggested that they should go to bed, but the Weasley children just looked at him disgust. The only source of entertainment was watching the candle wick sink lower and lower into liquid wax and drinking butterbeer. The only words spoken periodically were ones asking what time it was, and words of reassurance that they would know straightaway if there was bad news because Mrs. Weasley must have arrived at St. Mungo's.

Fred soon fell into a doze with his head sagging sideways onto his shoulder. Ginny was curled up on her chair with her eyes wide open. Ron had eventually let go of Penelope's hand and now resorted to placing his head in his hands. She frowned and began to rub his back softly to give him more comfort. Venus seemed like she was giving Harry his space, but he kept reaching out to her, not daring to let her go.

Finally, at about five in the morning — according to Ron's watch — the kitchen door swung open. Penelope snapped her head over to see Mrs. Weasley entering the kitchen. She was extremely pale but gave them all a watery smile.

"He's going to be all right," Mrs. Weasley announced in a tired voice, making Penelope let out a breath of relief. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred slumped back into his chair with his hands covering his face. George and Ginny got up, walked swiftly over to their mother, and hugged her tightly. Ron let out a shaky laugh and downed the rest of his butterbeer in one gulp. Penelope laughed slightly at him for a moment.

"Breakfast!" Sirius suggested loudly and joyfully as he jumped to his feet. "Where's that accursed House-Elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!"

Kreacher didn't answer.

"Forget him," Penelope voiced.

Sirius then counted the people in front of him. "So it's breakfast for — let's see — nine . . . bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast—"

Penelope instantly stood up to go help with breakfast. She passed Mrs. Weasley hugging Harry before approaching from behind the counter. Penelope looked up to see Ron staring at her. However, unlike that day when she had first arrived at Grimmauld Place, she didn't raise an eyebrow at him — instead, she smiled brightly at him as she got out the loaf of bread.

"Oh, Penelope dear," Mrs. Weasley stated, making Penelope set down the knife from cutting the bread. "It's so lovely to see you again, dear."

"You too, Mrs. Weasley," Penelope responded. "I wish it was under different circumstances . . . I was supposed to go to back home, but Ron wanted me to come with him."

Mrs. Weasley was slightly shocked at that revelation — probably not hearing Penelope call him anything but Weasley — but nevertheless, she placed her hands on either side of Penelope's face. "I'm sure we can invite Andromeda, Ted, and Tonks over. Also, you look very tired, dear. You all do. Straight to bed after breakfast, you hear?"

Penelope grinned. "Got it."

Indeed, after they ate breakfast, Penelope curled up in the bed she had used in the summer. Her, Ginny, and Venus — taking Hermione's bed — all took a nap for a couple hours. They had awoken just in time for lunch, and Penelope felt very refreshed and less tired than she had before.

Their trunks had also arrived from Hogwarts. In order to blend in, they had to dress as Muggles — so Penelope put on a plaid skirt, her black sweater, and her Converse and also placed her hair in two plaits. All of them talked brightly with each other as they got ready. Her own heart swelled at seeing Ron in higher spirits.

Penelope then descended down the steps to go join everyone else. She had just reached the floor when a figure suddenly slammed into her. Penelope blinked in shock, but the familiar head of bright pink hair instantly gave it away.

She chuckled a bit and hugged her cousin back. "Hey, Dora."

"It's so good to see you!" Nymphadora exclaimed as they pulled away after a moment. "I wasn't sure if I was going to make it to mum and dad's for Christmas because of the Ministry, but then we got the message about Mr. Weasley . . ."

"I'm happy to see you, too." She then gazed over Nymphadora's shoulder to see two unfamiliar people standing next to Venus. "Who are they?"

"Mary and Atlas Black, Venus' parents. They came to keep Sirius company while we take you to London. Speaking of that . . ." Nymphadora cast her gaze to Mad-Eye Moody, who was wearing a bowler hat to conceal his magical eye. "We ready to go?'

They were indeed ready to leave. Penelope walked down the streets of London, taking in all the sights in the wintery air with her hands interlocked behind her back. She was completely unaware of the way Ron was staring at her like she was the most interesting thing in London.

After a quick train ride, they got off in the heart of the city and ascended up the escalator to above ground. It was a broad, shop-lined street filled with Christmas shoppers. Ron — his face flushed red — offered his hand to Penelope as they tried to make their way through the crowd. Penelope smiled at him with a racing heart and took it, controlling the blush on her face like she usually did. She allowed him to lead the way through the crowd — well, after Moody, of course.

"Not far from here," Moody grunted. "Wasn't easy to find a good location for a hospital. Nowhere in Diagon Alley was big enough and we couldn't have it underground like the Ministry — unhealthy. In the end they managed to get hold of a building up here. Theory was sick wizards could come and go and just blend in with the crowd . . . here we go."

They had finally arrived outside of a large, old-fashioned department store made of red bricks called Purge and Dowse Ltd. It was miserable, really — the window displays had a few chipped dummies with askew wigs that showed fashion from about a decade ago, and the dusty doors had large signs that said CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT.

"Right," Nymphadora began, beckoning them forwards to a window display. "Everybody ready?" They nodded while clustering around her. Penelope stared at her curiously as Nymphadora leaned close to the glass and looked up at the very ugly dummy. "Wotcher . . . we're here to see Arthur Weasley."

The dummy then gave a tiny nod and beckoned its joined finger. Penelope raised an eyebrow, but she was soon forced to let go of Ron's hand as Nymphadora seized her and Ginny by their elbows and forced them to come with her through the glass.

"Ow, Dora," Penelope complained as the twins, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Harry, and Moody appeared behind them. "You're stronger than you think you are."

Nymphadora stuck her tongue out at her. "Weak."

Penelope rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, a ghost of a smile on her face as she watched Nymphadora and Mrs. Weasley walk away. She had never been in St. Mungo's, so she decided to glance around. They were now in a crowded reception room with rows of witches and wizards sitting upon rickety wooden chairs. Some were normal and were reading outdated copies of Witch Weekly, while others had some very . . . peculiar ilnesses and problems. Witches and wizards in lime-green robes with an emblem of a crossed wand and bone embroidered on their chests were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards.

"Are they doctors?" Harry questioned.

"Doctors?" Ron repeated. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"I've always wanted to be a Healer," Penelope admitted.

"You want to be a Healer?" Ron inquired.

She nodded. "My mother spent her life hurting people. I want to spend mine healing them." She glanced over at him. "Fits, don't you think?"

"I could see you here," Ron told her. "You'd be a great Healer."

"Thanks, Ron."

"Don't mention it."

"Over here!" Mrs. Weasley then called.

They all followed her over to the queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked INQUIRIES. There were posters about the importance of clean cauldrons, Healers being qualified, or some shit like that. Penelope didn't really care. She also ignored the portrait of an old headmistress of Hogwarts and Healer in the 1700's, and the person in front of them who was complaining about his shoes eating him. Finally, after waiting about two more turns, Mrs. Weasley shuffled forwards.

"Hello," she greeted the blonde witch. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us—?"

"Arthur Weasley?" the witch echoed, running her finger down a long list in front of her. "Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you. Come on, you lot."

They went through the double doors and walked along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles that held candles. More Healers walked in and out of the doors as they passed. Penelope stared around in fascination. What she would do to get a job here . . .

After another flight of stairs to the Creature-Induced Injuries corridor. The second door on the right bore the words "DANGEROUS" DAI LLEWELLYN WARD: SERIOUS BITES. Underneath was a card in a brass holder that said Healer-in-Charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye. Penelope imagined her name next to Healer-in-Charge, but she had to remind herself that now was not the time to daydream.

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Nymphadora offered. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once . . . it ought to be just the family first."

Penelope nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I can stay with Dora—"

"No," Ron said quickly. She raised an eyebrow at him, making Ron clear his throat. "I mean . . . dad would love to see you again. You know, after the summer, and all . . ."

"Oh. Uh . . . if that's okay with you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Perfectly fine," Mrs. Weasley replied, a knowing glint in her eyes. She then noticed Venus and Harry drawing back. "Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you, Harry . . . and he would love to meet you, Venus . . ."

They all entered the ward. It was small and rather dingy, and the only window as narrow and set high in the wall. Most of the illumination in the room came from those shining crystal bubbles. The walls were made of paneled oak and there was a portrait of a rather vicious-looking wizard on the wall. Penelope looked over and locked eyes with it. He glared at her, and she sent an even harsher one back — making him look away.

There were only three patients. Mr. Weasley was in the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. He was propped up on several pillows and was reading the Daily Prophet by the solitary ray of sunlight shining onto his bed. Mr. Weasley looked up as they approached him and beamed.

"Hello!" Mr. Weasley voiced, throwing the Prophet aside. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later . . ."

"How are you, Arthur?" Mrs. Weasley asked, bending down to press a kiss to his cheek before looking at him anxiously. "You're still looking a bit peaky . . ."

"I feel absolutely fine." He held out his good arm to give Ginny a hug. "If they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

There was a very short introduction of him and Venus. Penelope offered a fleeting smile to Mr. Weasley as they met eyes before he went back to hugging his daughter.

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" Fred questioned.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr. Weasley responded cheerfully, reaching for his wand on his beside cabinet and waving it so that eight chairs appeared to seat them all. Penelope sat down, crossing one leg over the other. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open . . . they're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there—" he dropped his voice and nodded towards the bed opposite him where a man laid green and sickly as he stared up at the wall "—bitten by a Werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A Werewolf?" Mrs. Weasley whispered, looking positively alarmed. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's two weeks till full moon. They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a Werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage . . ."

"What did he say?" George inquired.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up," Mr. Weasley voiced sadly. "And that woman over there—" he gestured to the other occupied bed right beside the door "—won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" Fred asked, pulling his chair closer to the bed.

"Well, you already know, don't you?" Mr. Weasley smiled at Harry. "It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

Fred indicated to the newspaper he cast aside. "Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?"

Mr. Weasley's smile turned bitter. "No, of course not, the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got—"

"Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley warned.

"—got — er — me," he finished hastily, and Penelope had a feeling that was not what he was going to say.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" George urged.

"That's my business." Mr. Weasley had a small smile on his face as he picked up the Daily Prophet again. "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in—"

"When you say you were on duty, what were you doing?" Fred questioned in a low voice.

"You heard your father, we are not discussing this here!" Mrs. Weasley scolded. "Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur—"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge," Mr. Weasley revealed grimly. "I can only suppose gold changed hands—"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" George guessed quietly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!" Mrs. Weasley snapped.

Mr. Weasley raised his voice. "Anyway, this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" Fred continued, looking at his father for a reaction. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"That's enough," Mrs. Weasley cut in crossly. "Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside," she added to the group. "You can come and say good-bye afterward. Go on . . ."

Wasn't much of a visit, but Penelope followed everyone as they went back into the corridor. Nymphadora squeezed Penelope's shoulder before going into the ward with Moody. They closed the door behind them.

Fred raised his eyebrows and began rummaging in his pockets. "Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

George then held out a tangle of flesh-colored string. "Looking for these?"

"You read my mind," Fred confirmed with a grin.

Penelope stared at them. "What the fuck are those?"

"Extendable Ears," Fred answered. "One of our products. Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

The twins disentangled the string and separated seven Extendable Ears. Penelope took one and studied it for a moment before realizing the others were putting in their ears. She shrugged — why the hell not — before putting it in her ear.

"Okay, go!" Fred instructed.

The flesh-colored strings wriggled and snaked under the door. For a few seconds there was nothing, but then Nymphadora's voice came straight through.

". . . they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur . . ." Nymphadora stated. "But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout, 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he?" Moody growled. "No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," Mrs. Weasley responded, sounding rather uneasy. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this . . ."

"Yeah, well, there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning."

"'Course he's worried," Moody replied. "The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake . . . obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him—"

Penelope's eyes widened. She looked over to Harry, who had pulled the Extendable Ear out and was very red in the face. If Voldemort was really possessing him . . . things got a hell of a lot more problematic.



☆ 彡



hey welcome to act two!!!

I love how everyone thinks penny is this like cold-hearted bitch but in reality she's just a softie

also there's a very exciting scene next chapter <333 hehehehe YAY

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