Harry Potter and the Lost Cities

CHAPTER SIX

The Burrow was lively as ever Sunday evening as Ginny and Harry approached it, hand in hand, for the traditional Weasley Sunday dinner. Pigs roamed in the yard of the tall, rather lopsided building. Harry could hear chickens screeching and clucking, and he was fairly certain he saw a garden gnome sneaking around the house, surely headed for the Weasley's garden, the gnomes' favorite place to hang out. The usual rusty cauldrons and scruffy boots cluttered the front steps, and through the front door and open windows drifted a familiar, homey smell, as well as the aroma of what was surely tonight's delicious meal.

And yet, none of the scenery had the usual calming effect on Harry. In fact, he didn't really want to be there at all. He had tried to convince Ginny to let him skip tonight― there was a lot going on at the Ministry. But Ginny had point-blank refused. They never missed family dinner at the Weasley's. "And besides," Ginny had said. "You could use a night off. I swear you haven't had a second of peace all week."

He knew she was right, but it was still hard to walk away from the case. It wasn't because he didn't enjoy all of the Weasleys' company. He just felt guilty that even after a year of work on the same case, they still didn't have so much as a lead. Unless you counted whatever Kreacher was talking about...

"Harry, Ginny!" Harry snapped out of his stupor as Mrs. Weasley pulled Harry and Ginny into a tight hug. "Oh, it's good to see you, dears."

"You too, mum," Ginny said as she pulled away. "Are we the last ones here?"

"No, we're still waiting on Bill and Fleur..."

Mrs. Weasley― Harry still had trouble calling her anything but that in his mind― led them into the already crowded kitchen. Harry never understood how they fit the whole family in the small kitchen, grandchildren included, during the holidays, but they always managed to make it work.

As Harry and Ginny entered, the room filled with greetings and welcomes. Harry looked around at all the familiar faces. There was Charlie, with a big, toothy grin and his usual long, now mostly gray hair. Percy sat in conversation with his wife Audrey, probably saying something about the Ministry. There was Ron and Hermione of course, who were already headed over to chat with Harry and Ginny. Then George and Angelina, Harry's former Quidditch teammate, who sat with intertwined hands at the table. George gave Harry a weak smile when they made eye contact, and Harry smiled back, wishing he could add some enthusiasm to George's smile. But George had never been quite the same since Fred had died. Harry had only seen his real smile, a true George smile, once or twice since, and his jokes were rarer, too.

"Hey, mate." Ron's voice pulled Harry away from his sympathetic thoughts. "How've you been?"

"All right," he said. "Things've been pretty rough at the Ministry, I'm sure you've heard... and how're you, Hermione?" He added as he returned Hermione's customary greeting embrace, even though the last time he'd seen her had been that morning.

"Fine." Hermione replied.

"Yeah, Hermione's been keeping me updated," Ron said. "It's times like this that I wish I were still an Auror... now that things are actually getting exciting, ya know?"

"So you'd rather be working as an Auror when things are dangerous?" Hermione clarified, laughing when Ron shrugged. "You're so ridiculous, Ron."

"That's why you like me," Ron replied, giving her a peck on the cheek. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Hermione, did Harry tell you about what Kreacher said the other night?" Ginny asked.

"No, what?"

"It was really weird," Harry said with a glance at Ginny. "I was telling Ginny about what Drake said, about the weird magic? Kreacher actually dropped a bunch of plates when he heard me say it, he was so shocked... and then he was trembling and shaking and he'd clearly heard of that type of magic before, but when I asked what he wouldn't tell me. He said that there were "ancient commands" that meant he couldn't say what. Have either of you heard of anything like that?"

"Ancient commands?" Hermione repeated. "Actually, I think I've heard legends of house-elves having ancient masters or something... but I always thought it was just a legend. I'll have to look into more."

"Do you remember anything about it? Anything at all?"

"Not really. It just sounds familiar."

Harry sighed. "Okay well let me know if you find anything.

"Wait, what is this 'strange magic' anyway? You never mentioned 'strange magic,'" Ron told Hermione.
"Drake said there was like a white flashing light and an impenetrable sphere that surrounded the house, as well as some strange winds," Harry explained.

Ron cocked his head thoughtfully. "Ya know, I feel like I've heard of something like that. It rings a bell. I don't know why though." He started snapping his fingers, as though that would somehow help the memory come back to him.

Before Ron could figure it out, if he was ever going to, Bill and Fleur arrived, and Mrs. Weasley announced dinner. Because of the increasingly cold weather outside as winter approached, they were forced to eat in the crowded kitchen. It was hard to care, though, as Harry began to stuff himself with Mrs. Weasley's delicious steak and kidney pie, along with a mountain of mashed potatoes and pies of steamed vegetables. The conversation was just as pleasant, and the meal was topped off with a delicious treacle tart. After dinner, everyone split into their own groups, chatting and catching up.

"Figure it out yet, Ron?" Ginny asked as Ron and Hermione approached them once again.

"Figure out wha― oh that. The weird magic thing. No, but I will!" Ron announced with a look that made both Ginny and Hermione roll their eyes.

"What are we figuring out?" George asked from behind Harry.

Harry turned, admitting George into their circle.

"Oh, just a case that Harry's working on," Hermione explained.

"Oh. Interesting case?" George asked.

Harry snorted. "I dunno that 'interesting' quite explains it. More like extremely frustrating and confusing."

"How so?"

"The pieces just aren't coming together. I don't think I've ever had this much trouble with a case. The only one that even comes close was a couple years ago, one that the Wizengamot ruled a mistake anyway and told me to stop investigating―"

"That's it!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry glanced at his friends with a mix of annoyance and confusion. "What're you talking about?"

"That's why it sounds familiar! That was right before I quit, when I was still an Auror! The bloke talked about flashing lights! And― and weird shadows, and an impenetrable clear sphere... and weird fires and wind gusts!"

"Woah, slow down," Hermione said. "Who said that? When was this?"

But Harry had just remembered too. "Ethan Benedict Wright. Just before he died."