Moody pulled the piece of parchnt out of Chris's hand and set fire to it with his wand-tip. As the ssage curled into flas and floated to the ground, Chris looked around at the houses again. They were standing outside number eleven; she looked to the left and saw number ten; to the right, however, was number thirteen.
Chris thought about the paper and the handwriting of the paper, then she guessed sothing
"Fidelius Charm?" She asked.
Lupin smiled and Tonks looked impressed.
"We need to hurry." Moody growled.
"Think about what you've just morized," said Lupin.
"Ok." Chris said then thought, and no sooner had she reached the part about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, than a battered door erged out of nowhere between numbers eleven and thirteen, followed swiftly by dirty walls and grimy windows. It was as though an extra house had inflated, pushing those on either side out of its way. The stereo in number eleven thudded on. Apparently the Muggles inside hadn't even felt anything.
"Co on, hurry," growled Moody, again.
Tonks pulled Chris towards the newly materialized door. Its black paint was shabby and scratched. The silver door knocker was in the form of a twisted serpent. There was no keyhole or letterbox.
Lupin pulled out his wand and tapped the door once. Chris heard many loud, tallic clicks and what sounded like the clatter of a chain. The door creaked open.
"Get in quick," Lupin whispered.
Chris stepped over the threshold into the almost total darkness of the hall. She could sll damp, dust, and a sweetish, rotting sll; the place had the feeling of a derelict building. She looked over her shoulder and saw the others filing in behind her, Lupin and Tonks carrying her trunk and Leon's cage. Moody was standing on the top step and releasing the balls of light the Put-Outer had stolen from the streetlamps; they flew back to their bulbs and the square beyond glowed montarily with orange light before Moody limped inside, but before he can close the front door, a owl ca soaring and sat on Chris's shoulder. It was Leon. Moody groaned and closed the door after that. The darkness in the hall beca complete.
"Here..."
Moody rapped Chris hard over the head with his wand; and she knew the Disillusionnt Charm have lifted.
"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light in here," Moody whispered.
Chris heard a soft hissing noise and then old-fashioned gas lamps sputtered into life all along the walls, casting a flickering insubstantial light over the peeling wallpaper and threadbare carpet of a long, gloomy hallway, where a cobwebby chandelier glimred overhead and age-blackened portraits hung crooked on the walls. Chris heard sothing scuttling behind the baseboard. Both the chandelier and the candelabra on a rickety table nearby were shaped like serpents.
There were hurried footsteps and Ginny's mother, Mrs. Weasley, erged from a door at the far end of the hall. She was beaming in welco as she hurried toward them, though Chris noticed that she was rather thinner and paler than she had been last ti she had seen her.
"Oh, Chris dear, it's lovely to see you!" she whispered, pulling her into a rib-cracking hug before kissing her forhead. "You'll have to wait for dinner... I'm afaird... but first Dumbledore wants to et you."
She turned to the gang of wizards behind him and whispered urgently, "He's just arrived, the eting's started . . ."
The wizards behind Chris all made noises of interest and excitent. They all went toward the door through which Mrs. Weasley had just co. Chris didn't say anything and entered the room.
It was really a full business like eting. Dumbledore was sitting on the far end of the long table, like the owner and then was Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape, Mr. Weasley, Bill Weasley, Sirius Black, and many more Wizards and Witches Chris didn't recognize but there was soone she saw and got a actual shock.
"Mr. Nelson?" Chris muttered.
Mr. Nelson was Chris's mother's second husband, whom she last t the previous sumr.
Mr. Nelson and the wizard beside him both looked at her then Mr. Nelson smiled.
"Good evening, Christina."
Dumbledore said with a weary smile. He was looking more exhausted and old than a month ago, when last ti Chris saw him.
"Good evening, Professor." Chris replied.
As Chris t Dumbledore's eyes she felt sothing hard colliding in her head. She knew why, Chris was practicing Occluncy after the big incident last year. She also knew Dumbledore uses Legilincy on people so the feeling in her head was a known thing to her. Though her resistance wasn't too strong, after experiencing it with Dumbledore she felt a little proud of herself.
"How was your journey? Anything happened?" Dumbledore asked but Chris felt the question was less to her and more to the wizards who went to pick her.
"Everything according to the plan. No disturbance." Moody said.
"Hmm..." more lines appeared on Dumbledore's forehead. "Anything while you were staying in your house, Christina?"
"No Professor. Nothing happened." Chris replied. "It was the most quiet and ordinary sumr break for ... which was weird."
Hearing Chris many of the wizards frowned, including Mrs. Weasley, and few of them smiled including Lupin, Bill, Sirius and Dumbledore himself.
"Well the sumr is not finished yet." Dumbledore said with twinkle in his eyes. "So be careful."
Chris nodded. There was lots of questions inside her brain but she decided not to ask them in front of so many people. Chris thought it's ti to leave but then,
"One more thing, Christina..." Dumbledore called. "Are you writing to Harry?"
"Not very much." Chris replied.
Which was true, Harry had sent her so letters over the month asking if she knew what Dumbledore was planning and what was happening outside the Privet Drive; but when Chris told him that she knew nothing, Harry sent her a letter angrily, thinking she was lying, then stopped writing. On her birthday he just sent a normal watch for her with a note 'Happy Birthday.' That's all. So Chris didn't write to him either, except his Birthday note yesterday.
"Alright, but now when you're here, I make it very clear that you'll not write to Harry anything about us or this place." Dumbledore said quietly.
"I'm not writing him anything." Chris replied casually.
"Good. That'll be all. Molly please show her where she needed to go."
"Sure." Mrs. Weasley seized Chris's upper arm and ask her to followed her.
"Wait. Are you not going to make her swear? Like others?" Sirius injected.
Chris stopped and looked back at Dumbledore, waiting for his answer.
"No." Dumbledore answered simply. "There's no need. She knows why I ordered that."
"She knows?" Professor McGonagall gaped at Dumbledore.
Chris thought it's the right ti to leave the room so before Mrs. Weasley can pull her out, she pulled Mrs. Weasley and walked out.
"So where's Ginny, Mrs. Weasley?" Chris asked.
"Oh yes! She's upstairs, you can wait with them until the eting's over and then we'll have dinner." Mrs. Weasley said, not looking very pleased.
She showed Chris the stairs and told her to go second door on the right. Chris nodded obediently then climbed up, crossed the dingy landing, turned the bedroom doorknob, which was shaped like a serpent's head, and opened the door.
It was a gloomy high-ceilinged, three-bedded room. Ginny and Hermione was sitting on the nearest bed.
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