August 1998
I awoke one August morning in my small room at the Burrow. I rolled over to see that Hermione was still asleep in the bed beside mine, despite the clock reading a quarter past nine. I got up and made my way downstairs to the kitchen. I heard Molly’s voice and wondered who she was talking to. I rounded the corner and came face to face with-
“Harry!” I
exclaimed. He had been chatting with Molly while eating some breakfast, but
upon my entrance, he turned and his face lit up.
“Carrie!” He
said, jumping up from his stool to give me a big hug.
“Sorry if I
interrupted,” I said as he released me.
“Not at all,
dear,” Molly replied with a smile, “I’ll just let you two catch up.” With that,
she walked out of the kitchen. I hopped onto a stool next to Harry.
“So, how’s
your summer been?” he asked me.
“Ok. A little
boring,” I replied. “I wish you would’ve visited more,” I added. He smiled.
Though I’d been a bit upset that he had barely visited, any twinge of annoyance
had disappeared upon seeing him. Harry was closer to me than anyone- even
Hermione. He was my best friend. And I couldn’t be upset with him for long.
“Sorry,” he
said, genuinely looking apologetic. I waited for him to offer an explanation,
but he seemed to have nothing else to say.
“It’s fine,”
I assured him with a smile. “How has your summer been?”
“About as
boring as yours, I suppose. I found the Dursleys and let them out of hiding,”
he answered.
“You aren’t
living with them though, right?” I asked.
“No,” he
laughed, “Grimmauld Place.”
I was about
to ask why he couldn’t manage to find the time to visit if he was living on his
own when suddenly, there were two loud pops and two tall, identical redheads
materialized a few feet away.
“Fred!
George!” I said, surprised to see them.
“Sorry if we
interrupted your flirtatious conversation,” Fred said with a wink.
“Feel free to
continue. We aren’t even here,” George added, plopping himself down in a chair.
I rolled my eyes, and Harry appeared to be doing the same. My friendship with
Harry had always been a favorite of Fred and George to tease about. They always
enjoyed pretending there was something between Harry and I when we’ve never
been more than platonic friends.
“You’re not
funny,” I said.
“Everyone
else begs to differ,” George grinned. Fred lazily flicked his wand at an apple,
which whizzed toward him.
“If
‘everyone’ means you and Fred,” Harry retorted.
“So other
than being a nuisance, what are you doing home?” I asked, wanting to change the
topic before the twins got out of hand.
“Do we really
have to have a reason just to come home?” George asked.
“I thought
there must be some reason for you to come home with the joke shop open,” I
replied.
“That’s why
we have people working for us,” Fred said. “We were hoping mum might be making
something good for breakfast.”
“If you sit
there long enough, I’m sure she’ll make you something,” Harry said. “Took about
two seconds for her to ask me what I wanted.”
“Did I hear
something about breakfast?” came a groggy voice from behind me. I turned to see
a pajama-clad Ron standing at the bottom of the staircase, his ginger hair
sticking out all over the place.
“You would
wake up at the first mention of food,” I laughed. Ron attempted to scowl at me
as he went to sit down at the table, but since he was still half asleep, he
ended up just looking silly.
“Any chance
you’d want to go fly around?” Harry asked me. “I don’t get a chance to fly in
Grimmauld Place.”
“Yeah,
definitely. I’ll just run upstairs to change really quickly,” I replied.
I hurried up
to my room and found Hermione waking up. “Morning, Carrie,” she said,
stretching.
“Morning,
Hermione. Harry finally came to visit,” I told her as I grabbed clothes from my
dresser.
“Oh, really?”
She asked as she got out of bed.
“Yeah, he’s
down in the kitchen with Ron and the twins,” I answered. She paused upon
hearing that.
“I should
probably take a shower before going down there,” she said, practically running
toward the bathroom.
I threw on an
old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, pulled my hair into a ponytail, grabbed my Firebolt, and hurried downstairs. When I reached the kitchen, Fred and George were seated
beside Ron, eating almost as ravenously as he was. I shook my head at them,
which George returned to me with a wink. Harry and I went outside to the small
field where we could fly around without fear of coming across muggles. Once
there, we mounted and set off into the air. The familiar feeling of being atop
a broomstick returned to me as I made large arcs, twists, and flips in the air.
As a natural at flying, I’d always loved the adrenaline rush of playing a game
of quidditch, as a beater. Now, however, it was all about flight.
“Show off,”
Harry complained as I slowed down. I raised an eyebrow.
“You’re one
to talk,” I retorted.
“Oh, really?”
he said, jokingly nudging my broom as we flew slowly around the perimeter.
“Yeah,” I
replied, nudging back. This started a nudge war, with the two of us going back
and forth, gradually hitting each other harder and flying faster. Suddenly, he
rammed up against me, and I slipped completely off my broom. Thankfully, we
weren’t too high, so I didn’t have far to topple, but I felt a sharp pain in my
hand as I hit the ground. In a matter of seconds, Harry was right beside me.
“Carrie, I’m
so sorry! Are you OK? Are you alive? Breathing? How many fingers am I holding
up?” he said quickly, sticking his hand in my face.
“I’m fine,” I
laughed, propping myself up. “My hand kinda hurts, though.” I turned it over
and saw that it had a shallow cut on it, probably from the branch near me.
Suddenly mock serious, Harry grabbed my hand and began to examine it.
“We’re going
to have to get you some medical attention as soon as possible,” he said, not
even a hint of a smile across his face.
“I’m not
going to die, am I?” I asked, playing along with it. He looked at it very
closely for a couple of seconds before answering.
“I don’t
know, it’s pretty serious,” he replied. I couldn’t help myself anymore and
began laughing, and so did Harry. I rested my forehead against his shoulder as
we began laughing even harder.
“You don’t
think this would be too hard to heal with magic, do you? I asked, taking a
serious look at it.
“I’m rubbish
at healing spells,” he said, “but it doesn’t look too serious. Worst case
scenario, I might be able to find some muggle medicine to put on it.”
“That sounds
absolutely terrifying,” I responded. “I’m terrible at healing too, but I bet
Hermione can heal it.”
“Muggles know
what they’re doing,” Harry said. “They obviously can’t do anything about
magical injuries, but when it comes to regular things like broken bones or
cuts, their methods might take longer to work than wizard methods, but they’re
certainly effective.”
“I’m not sure
how much I’d trust a muggle to heal me,” I responded. “I know a little about
how muggle healers heal people. They have to cut them open and stuff.” I
shuddered just thinking about the idea of lying on a table while someone cut
into me.
“Yes,
depending on the surgery, they do sometimes have to cut people open, but
muggles go to school for a very long time just to know how to do specific types
of healing. And the person they’re healing usually isn’t awake while they’re
being healed,” Harry explained.
“I guess that
sounds a little bit better,” I said. “But it still seems so much worse than
just using magic.”
“Of course it
is. They’re probably never going to have anything as effective as magic,” Harry
said.
I wasn’t sure
how to respond, so we sat in silence for a few seconds. I decided I might as
well ask why he’d been too busy to visit. “So…” I started, “Where have you been
all summer? I was hoping I’d see you more now that you’re not living with the
Dursleys anymore.” Immediately after the words left my mouth, Harry frowned.
“I told you,
I let the Dursleys out of hiding, and I’ve been at Grimmauld Place,” he
replied. He spoke so deliberately that I knew immediately that he wasn’t
telling me everything.
“You can’t
expect me to believe that, Harry. I know you better than that. You couldn’t
spend that long cooped up by yourself. And I haven’t gotten so much as a letter
from you,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “You know you can trust me with
anything, right?” He gave me a little half smile.
“Of course I
do. And I’m sorry for not writing. I just had to do some things on my own,”
Harry said. I wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that.
“And I’m
assuming you’re not going to tell me what those “things” are?” I asked. He
shook his head.
“I can’t. At
least not right now. It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just something I
need to deal with on my own,” he replied. It was my turn to frown. I had a
feeling that he thought I would worry about him if I knew what it was.
“If you’re trying
to keep me from worrying, you’re doing a rubbish job,” I told him.
“Don’t worry
about me. I’m completely fine,” he said. “I just pushed you off your broom.
That should be proof enough.”
I gave him an
extremely skeptical glance, but before I could respond, I heard a voice say, “I
thought you two were going flying.” I looked over Harry’s shoulder to see Ron
coming toward us.
Harry turned
around to see him. “Oh, hey Ron. We were. Carrie fell off her broom.”
“Everything
OK?” Ron asked.
“Yeah, we
were actually just about to go see if Hermione could heal this little cut she
got,” Harry said. As he helped me up, I glared at him, knowing he was purposely
trying to avoid getting back to our previous conversation.
“I just came
out here to let you know that some owls arrived after you left, and they look
like they have letters from Hogwarts,” Ron said.
“That means
we’ll be going to Diagon Alley! I could use an outing,” I said as I grabbed my
broom from where it had landed a few feet away.
“I think
Hermione wants to go as soon as she finishes eating,” Ron said as the three of
us started toward the Burrow.
We reached
the Burrow and found the twins trying to convince Molly to make them more food.
Ginny and Hermione sat at the big table eating breakfast. They turned around as
we entered.
“Harry!” Ginny
said with a smile, jumping up to embrace him. Hermione also got up to hug him.
“Owls came
from Hogwarts.” she said. “One for each of us.”
“That’s what Ron
said,” I replied.
“But did he
tell you that there are seven?” Ginny asked with a smirk.
“Seven?”
Harry asked. “But there are only five of us.” I glanced over at him and he
shrugged, clearly as confused as I was. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the
twins. I looked over at them and they appeared to be extremely uncomfortable,
staring at their feet.
“And why is
Hogwarts writing to YOU two?” I asked them. It seemed to click in Harry’s head
and he gave the twins a curious look.
“They wanted
to remind us of our banned products, of course,” Fred said. It seemed to make sense,
but Ginny quickly interjected.
“They did
NOT! She insisted, glaring at our brothers. She then looked over at Harry, Ron,
and myself. “They each got a letter telling them they HAVE to finish their
schooling. An entire year.”
“Seriously?”
I asked. They were staring intently at their feet.
“We’ll be in
the same year,” Ron smirked.
“Shut it!”
The twins yelled, both looking up and glaring at Ron.
“Well…” I
trailed off. “Hermione, any chance you could take a look at my hand and see how
easy this is to heal?” As I showed her the back of my hand, Molly jumped into
action.
“Oh no, did
you hurt yourself?” she asked, immediately right beside Hermione.
“Nothing
major, she just fell off her broom and got a minor cut,” Harry said.
“She fell off
her broom?” Fred’s skepticism was written all over his face. He turned to
George.
“You know, Georgie, I don’t think I’ve ever seen our sister just fall
off her broom.”
“I can’t say
I have either, Fred,” George replied. “In fact, I’d say she’s too good at
flying to just fall off her broom all willy-nilly.” They both turned to look at
Harry, expecting a different answer.
“No, I didn’t
just fall off. Harry pushed me off,” I said.
“Harry!”
Hermione exclaimed, turning to look at him.
“It was an
accident!” He said. Hermione turned back to look at my hand.
“It’s not
hard at all,” she said. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the wound and
it began to heal. After a couple seconds, it was if it had never been there.
“Thanks,
Hermione,” I said.
“You’re lucky
that’s all you hurt,” she said, giving Harry another disapproving look before
sitting back down to finish breakfast. “So is everyone ready to go to Diagon
Alley after breakfast?” she asked. Everyone gave some sort of positive
response.
I went
upstairs to my room and grabbed some money. By the time I got back downstairs,
Hermione and Ginny were just finishing their food.
“I think I’m
going to stay behind this time,” Molly said. She picked up two coin bags and
handed them to Ron and Ginny. “Don’t get anything you don’t need for school,”
she said, looking straight at Ron.
“Where’s our
money?” George asked.
“You have
your own,” Molly said. She turned to me, holding a third coin bag. “Here you
go, Carrie,” she said.
“Don’t worry
about it, Molly. I can cover it.” I said, refusing to take the bag from her.
“Are you
sure, dear?” Molly said. I nodded.
“Come on, let’s go to Diagon Alley,” Ron said.
We all crowded around the fireplace.
One after
another, Fred and George stepped into the fireplace, threw down a handful of
floo powder, and exclaimed “DIAGON ALLEY!” Then, it was my turn. I climbed in
the fireplace, my hand full of floo powder.
“DIAGON
ALLEY!” I said, throwing the powder down. I felt a jerk and a spinning
sensation and suddenly, everything went black.
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I felt someone’s arms holding me and heard frantic voices. I
couldn’t see much. Most of my vision, except a small circle in the middle, was
dark. What I could see was extremely fuzzy.
“Carrie, are you OK?” came one of the twin’s voices, but it
was muffled, sounding like my ear was pressed to his chest. But I couldn’t will
my mouth to answer him. My head throbbed and I had no idea what was happening.
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