Return of the Stag :: Book two #wattys2017

Chapter 3

EDITED

Harry and Ron walked downstairs talking between themselves. They were met by James at the base of the stairs. "Hey, Dad," Harry said, smiling. "Hey, Harry," James replied, smiling back. "It's almost time for the party to start. I'm going to go and get Hermione for the party, if you two could stand by the door and greet people as they arrive, that would be great." James said as he started for the door. "'Course Dad," Harry said as the two boys followed James towards the door. They stopped at the open door, letting in the cool summer draft. Harry heard the crack of his dad apparating to Hermione's. The two boys stood talking at the door, waiting for a guest to appear. There was a crack outside, and Harry placed a hand on his wand, as the person had not revealed themselves to the two boys. "Ron, do you see anyone out there?" He asked carefully as he drew his wand out slowly. Ron did the same, copying Harry's movement. "No, should I call for Mum?" He asked Harry. Harry nodded, illuminating his wand tip.

Before either of the boys could do anything, a single red jet came flying towards them, striking Harry in the stomach, catching him off guard as he stumbled backwards into the house as two cracks echoed out in the night. "Harry!" Ron exclaimed rushing to Harry's side. He saw the blood welling from under Harry's hands from where they were clasped over his stomach.

A known figure approached them, gasping in shock. "Mr Weasley go and fetch your mother. Quickly." Minerva McGonagall's voice sounded above the two boys as she crouched down to check on Harry. Ron stood and rushed to the kitchen to get his mother. "Mum! Harry's been hurt, Professor McGonagall sent me to get you." He said quickly.

Molly turned to face her son as he burst into the kitchen. "Oh Dear!" She said, before rushing out of the kitchen to see what had happened to Harry. She found Minerva crouched over Harry, pressing a towel lightly to his stomach, stifling what she assumed to be blood flow.

"Minerva! What happened?" she asked quickly. "I'm not sure. I found him like this. It must've been a death eater." Minerva said carefully. "But only a death eater James was close to or friends with could have gotten in," Molly said, checking Harry's injury. "I'm not sure.." Minerva said. "Peter," Harry mutters. "What?" Minerva asks quickly. "Peter Pettigrew. He's the one who betrayed my Dad and Mum. He's the one who helped bring Voldemort back to life in my fourth year." Harry said as another crack echoed outside. Minerva and Molly both stood, turning their wands to the person who was approaching the house. "Who's there?" Minerva called.

"Remus." The person replies, stepping into the light, his brown eyes being drawn to Harry, who Molly was back to fussing over. "What happened?" He asked, worry thick on his voice. "We're not sure. He and Mr Weasley were standing here to greet guests but I'm guessing someone else appeared before I came. I found Mr Potter like this." Minerva said.

Remus nodded. "Harry, call for one of the elves. They'll help patch you up before your father gets home." Remus says placing his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry nodded, and with Ron and Remus' help, he stood up and was helped to the kitchen.

Harry had called for his favourite of the house elves, Sasha. Sasha, assisted by Molly, helped to patch Harry up. They healed the cut, only a faint scar being left, and Molly cleaning Harry's shirt so it looked as though nothing had happened. Molly had Harry take a blood replenishing potion, before sending him and Ron back out to the door, with Remus to make sure nothing else happened to either of them. Remus planned on telling James about what happened, just after the party.

As the three took up their positions at the door, there was another crack, accompanied by a small 'Oh' of surprise. Harry and Ron shared a smile, knowing who it was. Remus had his wand raised and pointed at where the sound had come from. "Jeez Moony, no need to be so hostile," James said as he led Hermione into the mansion.