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Chapter 1 : Grimmauld
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A/N: So I should be studying for my exams, instead I'm writing this. It's an experiment, when it comes to Harry Potter I'm rather into the canon world and don't like to change things. But I'm really excited about this so I hope you guys will like it as well. The first chapter will be a bit confusing because we're jumping right into the story, as it progresses it'll become clearer and hopefully you guys will stick around.
EDIT: I've rewritten the end of this chapter, deciding to go into a different direction for this story. Please leave me your thoughts :)
Beautiful Chapter Image by Clara Oswald @ The Dark Arts
Ian’s hand was wrapped around my arm tightly, too tight even. I didn’t mention it to him though, the effects of side apparition were already there, he was barely able to stand and I felt like throwing up. I could feel the bile rise at the back of my throat, not to mention the blood covering our clothes wasn’t quite helpful either. I could feel my feet drag behind me as Ian’s breathing started to sound even more forced.
“Ian.” I tugged at my brother’s arm. “We’re almost there, right?” My heart was pounding its way through my chest and as we rounded the corner, somewhere in a Muggle neighbourhood, I could see that it was completely deserted.
“Ian.” I tried to coax some kind of reaction out of him, but the stain on his shirt was only getting bigger as blood kept seeping out of his wounds. “Are you sure we’re at the right spot?” My voice trembled at the end.
I wasn’t quite sure where Ian had taken us, but I knew it was the only safe place that he knew. For now. The houses were grim, even on this hot summer day, their appearance came across as neglected. Shattered windows were common as the pavement was littered with shards of glass. This couldn’t be the place Ian meant to be safe, could it? At some point Ian’s grip on me loosened, I could feel it in the way his hand slipped down my wrist until he finally let go. The panic I had tried to suppress for so long was now resurfacing. I could not possibly be panicking now. The back of my head was throbbing and I could feel the burning of my tears.
“Ian, no please. Tell me where we have to go.” Ian grunted and his dark hair was matted with sweat as I lowered him to the pavement. He was in awful shape and the fact it was my fault didn’t help the situation at all. “I’m so sorry.” I sobbed, tears were spilling over as I could see the trouble Ian had with breathing. “This is not supposed to happen.” The panic was so prominent that I could hear my heart’s troubled beating, the rush of blood through my veins and the throbbing at the back of my head all at the same time.
I sat myself down next to him and I knew that if someone were to look out of the window they would be confronted with a conflict of interest. The sun was setting and the street was bathing in the remaining sunlight. It didn’t make the houses look any prettier, nor did it change the strange feeling of being deserted. It just prolonged Ian’s suffering. He still hadn’t said a word and I found myself wishing that Harry was here. Or Hermione, even Ron. They would’ve known what to do.
“Louisa.” It was almost inaudible, but I picked up on it and I snapped my head to Ian.
“Yeah.” I urged as I pushed myself to my knees. “What is it?” His hands were trying to reach his pocket but he was trembling too much and I reached out myself. There was a tiny piece of parchment in his pocket. I frowned. Parchment? Was that supposed to help?
I pushed aside all the confusion and glanced at the writing. The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London. I glanced at the houses behind us and frowned. There was no number twelve, only eleven and thirteen. The brief moment of comfort it provided had left my body as soon as it had come. Ian was wrong. There is no Grimmauld Place twelve.
“Ian, there is no number twelve.” But before I could even finish my sentence I saw that Ian wasn’t conscious anymore. “No, no, no, no.” I pleaded. “Wake up, come on. You can’t leave me here.” Tears brimmed over and I wrapped my arms around his torso.
There is no Grimmauld Place number twelve. So where was I supposed to go? Out of nowhere the houses number eleven and thirteen started to shift and a battered door appeared. It read number twelve. It was followed by grimy walls and windows, all having the same neglected and battered look about them. I scrunched up the piece of parchment and put it in my pocket as I started towards Ian.
“Come on, we’re there.” I muttered, talking to no one. I knew Ian couldn’t hear me, but somehow it helped to talk out loud. Ian was heavier than he looked and I had more trouble dragging him towards the door than thought. The steps weren’t helping either.
I pressed the doorbell a few times and glanced at the dirty grey door, there was a handle, in the shape of a serpent on it and I frowned. Was this really where we were supposed to go? Fatigue was finally taking hold an I pressed the doorbell once again when suddenly the door swung open and I tumbled inside.
“Louisa?” Mrs. Weasley’s high pitched voice was full of shock and I couldn’t even imagine how this would look like. “Arthur!”
I could hear screaming at the back, I wasn’t quite sure what was said but the sheer volume was overpowering. Hands grabbed me and pulled me on my feet and I saw that it was Professor Lupin. Questions were thrown at me but I was too tired to react, they barely registered in my head. They could’ve said anything and I would’ve agreed. That was how I felt, like a bloody puppet. Lupin’s hands were holding me on my feet and I found myself being guided through the dark hall, there was a faint smell of mould clinging at the walls. I wondered I was the only one that could smell it.
Somewhere in the all the chaos I was placed upon a chair. Several people were crouching in front of me, pushing aside strands of dirty hair, wiping away tears. Professor Lupin came in and out of view, it was as if he kept running from one spot to the other.
“What happened, dear? Can you tell us what happened?” I thought it was Mr. Weasley, but I wasn’t quite sure.
“She’s not responding.” Someone else reacted and I let out a breath.
“Ian.” I murmured. “How’s Ian? Where is he?” I tried to push myself out of the chair but I was held in place.
“Ian’s fine.” Lupin answered. “He’s being taken care of.” I blinked at him a few times and I could see the worry marring his face. For someone who wasn’t even that old he surely looked much older.
“Where am I?” I blurted out.
“All in good time, dear.” Mr. Weasley replied bleakly as he put his hand on my shoulder. I found myself glancing at the room I was in. It was some kind of parlour, though it didn’t give the same warm and comfortable impression I was used to. The gloom and dark room made the fatigue and headache heavier and the tip of my fingers tingled slightly.
I really was tired.
There was a fresh cup of tea in my hands; the hot cup almost burning the skin but I didn’t quite feel the pain as much as I should. I was terrified. I wouldn’t deny it, partly because I felt responsible for Ian ending up like this, partly because I didn’t possess the skills to prevent it from happening. I was only a fifteen-year-old, waiting to start my fifth year at Hogwarts and there was nothing stored in my brain that would’ve helped in any way. Nor would I be able to use it because underage magic was against the law, but I knew they made exceptions and I assume that I would be one of those if I had decided to use magic.
All of it didn’t matter now, we were at Grimmauld Place and it’s daunting appearance in the living room did nothing to soothe my anxiety, in fact, it did the exact opposite; fuel it even more. I sniffed and pushed aside the cup of tea and pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to push away the complete and utter guilt that seemed to overwhelm me. Why didn’t I help?
“Lou?” I looked up, knowing that my eyes were red and I quickly wiped my cheeks, hoping I would erase any trace of tears.
“Aaron?” My voice was soft but it didn’t take away any of the relief I felt when I saw that my older brother was here. He was considerably older than me and Ian, and after our parents’ deaths he had taken it upon himself to raise us. He had given up his own personal desires to make sure we wouldn’t have to. A sacrifice no one expected from him.
His dark eyes softened as he saw me and his arms embraced me firmly.
“This isn’t your fault.” He muttered in my ear.
I shrugged, my eyes welling up. “Is Ian alright?” I asked as he pulled away, taking it upon himself to sit down next to me. Aaron sighed and rested his arms on his knees.
“He’ll be fine.” Aaron replied. “But he’ll need to rest for some time.” I nodded, relieved and glad that he would be fine.
“Shouldn’t he be in hospital? I mean, there was a lot of blood.” Some of it was still staining my clothes. I hadn’t bothered to change yet.
“He’ll be fine.” Aaron emphasised before opening his mouth again. “This wasn’t how we wanted you to find out Louisa.”
“Find out about the Order of the Phoenix you mean?” I knew that it must’ve been the only thing that he wanted me to find out in the first place. But perhaps different circumstances would’ve been much better.
Aaron sighed again and nodded. “There are hard times coming, Lou. And I don’t want you to be a part of it but I fear that we’ve passed that a long time ago.” I dropped my eyes.
“Because of Harry?” And then I knew I had hit the sore spot. Aaron’s jaw was strained as he forced himself to reply.
“I’ve got nothing against Harry.” Aaron began. “He’s gone through a lot, but he has a knack for trouble and now you do too.” I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not his fault.” I said fiercely. “In fact, he’s the one that managed to get us out of trouble.” Aaron put his hand up.
“It doesn’t matter, forget about it.” He pacified. “We’ll talk about it tonight. It’s best if you went upstairs now to change. Your things are already there, as are your friends.”
A/N: Please leave me your thoughts in a review. I love to hear from you guys and it honestly is the best remedy against a bad day :)
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