Hey Freddie

Snake Bite/Christmas Break

I was awoken by a rapid knocking at my door, and Fred seemed to be as well.

"Quick, throw on the cloak, I'll get the door." I whispered in a panicked tone to Fred, who was evidently coming to his senses, as he quickly stumbled off the bed and ran to where the cloak was, throwing it on as fast as possible, disappearing with it.

I threw on my robe, and walked towards the door, slowly creaking it open. In front of it stood McGonagall, and behind her all of the Weasley siblings, looking quite frightened.

"How can I help you?" I asked, feeling my voice crack.

"Could you get Fred, we need the both of you immediately." McGonagall said, her expression unreadable.

"I don't-"

"You're not in trouble. This is about Arthur Weasley." She interrupted.

"Ok, I'll go get him, give us a minute to dress." I said, closing the door and turning on the lights.

"Freddie get dressed." I said, watching Fred throw off the cloak, revealing him in only a tank top and sweats.

"What's going on?" He asked, worry lining his face.

"They said it was something about your father, something urgent." I said, watching Fred's expression turn to shock, and him quickly grabbing his clothes, me doing the same.

We got dressed rapidly, and stepped outside only a minute later to find McGonagall and the rest of the Weasley's still there.

We rushed up to Dumbledore's office, and upon reaching it saw Harry and Dumbledore, looking quite shaken.

"Come here, then." Dumbledore said to us. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us."

We gathered around Dumbledore's desk.

"You have all used a Portkey before?" asked Dumbledore, and we nodded, reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three, then ... one ... two ..."

I looked at Fred, his face lined with worry.

"Three."

I felt a powerful jerk behind my navel, the ground vanished from beneath my feet, my hand was glued to the kettle; I was banging into the others as we all sped forwards in a swirl of colours and a rush of wind, the kettle pulling us onwards ... until my feet hit the ground so hard my knees buckled, the kettle clattered to the ground, and somewhere close at hand a voice said:

"Back again, the blood-traitor brats. Is it true their father's dying?"

"OUT!" roared a second voice.

I scrambled to my feet and looked around; we had arrived in the gloomy basement kitchen of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. The only sources of light were the fire and one guttering candle, which illuminated the remains of a solitary supper. Kreacher was disappearing through the door to the hall, looking back at us malevolently as he hitched up his loincloth; Sirius was hurrying towards us, looking anxious. He was unshaven and still in his day clothes; there was also a slightly Mundungus-like whiff of stale drink about him.

"What's going on?" he said, stretching out a hand to help Ginny up. "Phineas Nigellus said Arthur's been badly injured-"

"Ask Harry," said Fred.

"Yeah, I want to hear this for myself," said George.

We stared at Harry, waiting for an explanation. Kreacher's footsteps had stopped on the stairs outside.

"It was-" Harry began. "I had a--a kind of--vision ..."

He proceeded to tell us about how he witnessed an attack on Arthur Weasley at the hands of a giant snake.