Yellow (George Weasley)

39 - First Christmas

"Leah! Wake up! Something's happened to dad!" Ginny frantically shook me awake, her eyes red from crying.

It took me a second to process but I soon shot out of bed, grabbing my bath robe on the way out the door. I wrapped it around me and tied it tight as we ran down the stairs. "What's happened?" I asked, struggling to catch my breath.

"Harry's had a dream that dad was attacked by a snake while on guard at the Ministry." I could hear that she was close to tears again.

When we made it down to the common room, the rest of the Weasley children were already standing alongside Professor McGonagall, all dressed in their pajamas. I quietly joined the rest of the Weasley's, standing beside George as Ginny stood next to me. I gently held her hand in mine in an attempt to comfort her. She gave a small smile but I could tell she's nervous for her dad's well being. I took a few deep breaths to try and calm my own nerves.

McGonagall led us quickly through the halls and to the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office. "Fizzing Whizbee." She muttered. The gargoyle jumped to the side and we instantly pushed past. Harry was stood in the center of the room. He was taking a few ragged breaths, his skin pale and a sheen of sweat covering him.

"What's going on?" Ginny was crying again as we watched Dumbledore speaking to some of the portraits in his office. I pulled her into my chest, letting her sob into my robe as I rested my chin atop her red hair and blinked away my own tears. George rubbed his sister's back in an attempt to comfort her, but I could tell he could use some comforting of his own.

"Your father has been injured during a mission for the Order of the Phoenix. He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, alive." Dumbledore answered for her before pausing to point his wand at a blackened tea kettle. "You will be sent to Grimmauld Place as it is much closer to the hospital than the Burrow. Your mother will be waiting for you all there."

Hearing Dumbledore say it aloud made it feel even more real. I don't know what we'd do if anything happened to the head of the Weasley family. He's been almost as much of a father to me as my own dad. But Harry's dreams are actually visions of what is really happening. I could see him coming unwound by the minute, the pressure he's felt in the last half hour must be tearing him apart. His shoulders moved up and down with every uneven breath.

"Are we—are we taking Floo powder?" Fred looked shaken, his eyes filled with concern and his hair still disheveled from sleeping.

"No...the Network is being watched too closely. It's not safe. You'll be taking Portkey." Our headmaster nodded to the kettle. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, a flame erupted in the middle of the office and left behind a single golden feather in it's wake. "Fawkes' warning...She must know you're all out of your beds. Minerva, go head her off—tell her any story." He somehow kept a calm voice, though we all know the 'she' he was referring to was Professor Umbridge, who would surely object to us leaving and get Mr. Weasley fired from the Ministry. Maybe she would finally find her way to get Dumbledore out of Hogwarts for this.

When Professor McGonagall left with a flourish of her tartan night gown, Dumbledore gathered us around the old kettle. "You have all used a Portkey before?" He asked. All six of us touched a few fingers to the kettle in response. "Good. On the count of three then...one...two...three."

In an instant, I felt the familiar pull from behind my navel as the ground beneath my feet disappeared. My shoulders banged against George and Ginny's for a brief moment before our feet landed hard against the floor. My knees buckled underneath the impact and I found my self sprawled across the hard wood of Grimmauld Place. I still hadn't mastered the Portkey since we last used it at the Quidditch World Cup. A groan of pain escaped my lips and when I looked up a sagging face was scowling down at me.