When Myths Meet Magic || 5

20|| Percy

As McGonagall closed the door behind her, Dumbledore conjured up a rusted black kettle which he placed on his desk. Murmuring a spell, the kettle glowed an electric blue light before fading back to black. Then he turned to a portrait of a wizard sleeping.

"Phineas," He called, rapping sharply on the frame. "Phineas! PHINEAS!"

The wizard cracked an eye open, no longer able to pretend to be asleep.

"Phineas, go to your other portrait," Dumbledore commanded. "Tell Sirius that Arthur Weasley has been gravely injured, and that his wife, children, and Harry Potter will be arriving shortly at his house."

Phineas yawned lazily. "Oh, very well," he sighed. "Though He may have destroyed my portrait along with the rest of the family—"

"Sirius knows not to destroy your portrait," Dumbledore said. "Now you remember the message?"

"Arthur Weasley, injured, wife, children, Harry Potter coming to stay," Phineas repeated in a bored voice. "Yes, yes, very well." He stepped out of his frame.

No sooner had he done so that the door flew open again, McGonagall ushering them in.

"Harry— what's going on?" Ginny asked in a very frightened voice. "Professor McGonagall said you saw Dad hurt..."

"Your father has been injured in the course of his work for the Order," Dumbledore explained smoothly. "He has been sent to St. Mungo's. I am sending you to Sirius's house. You will meet your mother there."

"How're we going?" Fred asked, who had gone very white. "Floo Powder?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "The Floo Network is being watched; you will take a portkey." He gestured to the kettle.

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of fire appeared in thin air and a single scarlet feather fell fluttering to the floor.

"That is Fawkes's warning," Dumbledore said, catching the feather in mid air. "She must know you're out of your beds... go, Minerva, tell her any story—"

McGonagall nodded stiffly and swept from the room.

"He says he'll be delighted," Phineas drawled from where he reappeared in his frame. Dumbledore nodded in satisfaction before turning to them with a new urgency.

"Now, you have all used a portkey before?" he asked. They nodded.

"Good. Now, on the count of three..."

Everyone reached out to seize a bit of the kettle.

"One... two... three!"

Percy watched as Harry and the Weasleys glowed electric blue; they were jerked inwards like fish on a line, and suddenly they were sucked into a vortex of nothingness.

As soon as they vanished from the room, and Dumbledore turned to Percy and Nico, who were standing to the side.

"I'm afraid your job will become much harder," he said gravely.

"Job?"

"The reason you are here is to protect Harry, no?" He asked.

It occurred to Percy that they had never actually told Dumbledore what their quest was. Yet he somehow knew. Maybe Hecate told him or something?

"I think it was pretty hard already," grumbled Nico.

"You do not understand," Dumbledore said firmly. "Harry's connection with Voldemort is growing stronger. If my assumptions are correct, he is appearing in the Dark Lord's mind."