Double Dog Dare! -- Episode 35
Hecate

Molly suddenly jumped. "Wait! What was that?"

"What was what?" asked Mafalda, her gaze still trailing after the snake's tail in Tom Riddle's Mr. October photo spread.

"That!" gasped Molly, simultaneously grabbing for the magazine on the table and gesturing toward the seven-sided sash window over the sink.

"-watch it, now," Mafalda scolded. "You'll tear the bloody thing and then where will we be?"

"With an unknown number of sons who won't have caught their mum looking at Tom Riddle's . . . snake," snapped Molly.

"Pish--look at the clock, Molly. Whoever it is, it's not one of yours."

The grandfather clock's face was, for a moment, oddly blurred, but when the air suddenly cleared with a quick "pop!", some of the brass hands indicating the various Weasleys were on the move, but none, other than Molly's own, seemed to point toward "Home."

Molly glared at Mafalda's empty glass and tried to remember how many rounds of gin fizzes they'd plowed through, and, under the circumstances, why. "Don't say that like it's good news, ducks. Quick! He's coming! Get rid of it!" she said, flailing toward the table as she cleared the liquor bottles.

Mafalda, tut-tutting, pointed her wand at the magazine pile, which promptly disappeared. Molly ran for the door and yanked it open, revealing a tall, thin, red-headed teenager.

"Ro--Jason!" Molly stammered. "Where did you come from? And what's that?" she asked, pointing at the odd-looking bat the boy carried. "It's not from Fred and George, is it?"

"This?" Jason asked, hefting the Staves, "no, don't worry. It got me here, but I'm still not sure exactly what . . . ."

"Well, never mind, but do come in and have some tea," said Molly, suddenly relaxed. "We've been ever so worried."

~*~*~*~*~

With a faint "pop!", the blur which had obscured the Weasley clock face reappeared three inches above Minerva's left shoulder, fanning her ear.

"Brunnhilde!" she exclaimed, turning her face toward the hummingbird. "That was fast--did Molly send you ? What's the news?"

"What?" said Arthur, turning from the pile of files making its messy way to the floor. "From Molly? Are the boys all right?"

"Dunno," Minerva sighed. "Just something about a snake. She's scared of snakes."

"Smart bird," said Arthur. "Could she teach Errol, then?"

Dumbledore was already moving toward the fireplace. Throwing a pinch of silver powder onto the flames, he ducked his head under the mantel and called out.

"Mafalda? Are you there, dear?"

A cheerful voice came wavering through the flames. "Albus! How nice to hear from you. Young Mr. McCarthy has arrived, but we still seem to be short several Weasleys. What's the story on your end?"

"Arthur's made a mess of your office, but I'll see to it that he puts it to rights."

Mafalda laughed. "I win. The boy's telling a most entertaining story which seems to involve Voldemort's flaming arse. Do come and see for yourselves."

In his rush for the fireplace, Arthur nearly bowled Albus headlong into the flue, while Minerva, determined to beat them there, simply Apparated into Molly's cramped kitchen.

"That's some bat," Minerva said, approvingly. "Where did you get it?"

"From me, madam" said the ghost hovering in front of the sink. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Benjamin Banneker Hooks and Mr. McCarthy here is holding the United Staves of America. He's made quite an impression on Tom Riddle-that-was, today. You should be very proud of him."

Minerva kept looking at the staves. "But where's the snake?" she asked.

"Snake?" asked Molly, nervously.

"Brunnhilde saw a snake," Minerva repeated. "That's why she came for me. She hates snakes."

"Ah, yes," Mafalda stalled. "The snake . . . . well, it was rather impressive."

"Jason," Molly interjected. "You look terribly cold. Run up the stairs and when you get to the third door on your right, root around in the wardrobe until you find a jumper that's your size." Jason looked rather longingly at the gathering confab in the kitchen, but he found that Mrs. Weasley had somehow already propelled him halfway up the stairs.

"Must be good, whatever it is," Jason muttered as he counted off doors. "You'd think I'd get to keep a hand in after all this, but no. . . . "

Molly turned back to the kitchen just in time to catch the look on Arthur's face as Mafalda displayed Mr. October, 1947.

"Very impressive, indeed," the ministry witch said with a most evil grin.

~*~*~*~*~

Elsewhere, above the grey and choppy waves of the North Atlantic, a sword rose from the sea.