authors note: I'd like to start off saying thank you to someone lovely that helped form this idea with me, Raquel, who is a super amazing person. Some chapters further on were helped created by her. She's super fabulous.
When did you know the battle was over?
The cheers that broke out through the halls of a damaged, ruined castle? That seemed like the likely answer. Granted, they would not be cheering if they had lost. Anything but. In fact, they probably would have gone on fighting till every last breath was taken. It was nauseating to hear such optimistic sounds, though it meant that the hell had finally ceased. The antagonists in the form of Death Eaters fled the scene and in their wake, all was left was the survivors. The smell of rotted flesh and metallic scent of spilled blood drifted through the space of the crumbled castle. Through the relieved cheers of the broken hearted, whimpers were heard from those grieving.
Dawn was rising, beams of light spreading through the gaps of the demolished castle walls. The sun to be a sign that everything was going to be okay. That everything was fine. That the surviving wizards and witches could finally breathe because no spells where being thrown to add to the body count. Right then, they believed they won. That it was over.
Did anyone actually win in this war? How did the calls and relieved laughter be allowed when right below, a family member wasn't able to join them. Be relieved, but bask in the silence. Bask in the peace that wasn't before. Good Merlin, though, as you move those stiff muscles as pain reminds you that you are amongst the living….do not cheer. Do not laugh. Save it for later. Now is the time to allow mourning and comfort. It's over, right?
It's over?
Was it ever really... over...?
That was a question no one dared to ask.
On the cold hard ground, a lifeless corpse of the antagonist laid. Voldemort was dead. He now fell to Death the same way he had brought others. Nevertheless, his brainwashed followers did not vanish. They did not fall off this earth nor were they fragments of the imagination.
They fled.
They did not leave, however.
Hope came forth with the good news: Kingsley now sitting as Minister of Magic, the imperio'd having the curse lifted, turning back into their natural selves, and innocent people now being freed from Azkaban. Why would any one sense….that it was only the first wave?
It was not over. Some may have turned, regretted their mistakes and like those imperiod, came to a sense of reality. However, not all of them had that second chance. Some lived in the shadows of their mind, brainwashed with prejudice. They just needed time to gather followers and grow stronger. Then the storm would crash down all over again just as people began to bask in the sun.
...-[ Two Years Later]-...
Splish, splash!
Splish, splash!
How annoyingly noisy it was to have shoes slap against the puddles of a dark alley way. It was impossible to mask, the rainstorm did help dull it out, its rain splattering consistently down on it's own pools. A knock came to a damp wooden door from an impatient fist, the other hand going inside a dark cloak.
"Oh-hurry up, will you?!" Barked out a gruff voice. A muttered, "Bloody git…" followed under his breath.
There was suddenly a sliver of light coming from a cracked door, "Password?"
"Really? We're going to do this? Why don't I just blast down your bleedin' door first and then-"
"Procedure is procedure." There was mild cheek in the other as the door was beginning to shut. The drenched man slapped his hand against the door to stop it.
"Fine, oh fine. Mot de pass!" he snapped and the door swung open, the man stepping inside.
With a gruff, he began wiping over his clock, a dark wand came up to scan the area as the door shut, only to reveal rusted hinges in their shrill cry. Pursing his lips, the hood was dropped behind his back, revealing brunet locks sticking to the bridge of his nose and narrowed, skeptic eyes. Meeting the others gaze, the two frowned at another.
"Nott," The other greeted, shaking his head. "I have to say, it was a real shocker when you wanted to meet us. I swear, if you pull anything funny-"
"I've had worse than you, Finnigan." He snapped without missing a beat. "Now, do not waste my time. Salazar knows what will happen to me if I get caught doing this. You've already delayed me of precious time, no?"
"Hey! There was procedure to be done. I couldn't risk you coming in and-"
"At least think of a clever password. I'll be damned if I think there's any sort of intelligence reeking from you if your password—" he used air-quotes, "is just 'password' in French!"
"I thought it was clever." He mumbled with a shrug.
"Oi! Shut up in there!" A voice came from around the corner and out came a ginger male with furrowed eyebrows. Blue eyes flickered back and forth between the two and the tension in his shoulders did not leave. "Bloody hell, if I wanted you two to bicker over pointless rubbish… I would have set this up to do just that!" Red ears were portraying his anger towards this. It probably wasn't the first time they had this dispute.
"Ay! He was giving me lip! If he just-"
"Seamus."
"Fine. Have fun with 'im, Ronnie. Big ol' Auror, now, you obviously-"
"Seamus."
"I'm leaving! I'm leaving!" The male threw his hands in the air and turned around a bleak hallway. Soon after, there were footsteps pounding up an unseen staircase. Listening carefully, there were other voices too.
"I hate him. In fact, I never understand why he's here." Theodore Nott said, pointing to Seamus' general direction.
"I don' understand why you're here." Ron retorted, narrowing his eyes and looking incredibly awkward with this whole situation. "Frankly, I don' know how you earned Harry's trust in the first place. Seeing as he's out of town on some bloody mission, I suppose I have to deal with yea."
"How comforting." The other drawled back, narrowing his eyes. Digging his hand in his pocket once more, he drew out a piece of old parchment that was folded repeatedly. "Potter doesn't trust me. No one does. Seems getting labeled a snake downsizes me in a house of pretentious Gryffindors, really. I'm just telling you what I know and what I found."
"—And what's that?" Ron asked, taking the paper Theo handed over to him.
"Information."
"Be more elaborate, you prick."
The corner of Theo's face twitched before he rubbed the back of his neck. "They're regrouping…and fast."
Ron Weasley's eyes scanned over the page he began to unfold. "Where…did you get this?"
"I have my sources. Just-Just take that. Do what you heroes do…and leave me out of it. I don't want what happened two years ago to repeat."
Eyes flashed up at the Post Slytherin as the sound of lighter footsteps began to come downstairs. "So, you're a coward. That's why you're here."
Pursing his lips, he refused to answer, eyes flickering to the corner of the wall where a petite figure began to come out. The bushy-haired brunette stopped short, looking up at the two men in the room with brown hues. Tired eyes suggested a lack of sleep but nevertheless, she managed a weak smile. "We appreciate your help." After she stated this, she had no problem approaching Ron with a less patient façade. "Though some of us have a difficult time expressing gratitude towards someone risking a lot for us and our cause." This came out rather fast like shots being fired. "—What's that?" she asked, moving up to observe what Ron was holding.
That very second, the door was opened with a sharp creak like before as Theo simply left the room without a word.
"-Ron?" she asked, attempting to take it from him as her eyes flickered all over. Eyebrows furrowed together. "Ron. What is it?"
"…Numbers." He finally answered, watching the door lock in place.
"Coordinates." She elaborated, pursing her lips once she had it in her own hands. "Death Eater coordinates. Actually…more than that….A trail. They've been spotted coming towards London? Wow. I knew they would try and come near here but even two years seems a bit too soon."
"We should bring this to the rest of the Order. Before, you know, the store owner comes back." He muttered, glancing at her.
"…I thought you said this place was safe."
"It is. Just….when it's closing time. Don't look at me like that! Stop it, Hermione. I'm not gonna bring a Slytherin into the Grimmauld Place!"
"Let's just leave, alright? Also, why is Seamus here anyway?"
Ron was heading towards the stairs to try and fetch the man himself. "…He likes asking for the password!"
"Ronald Weasley, you are twenty years old-is that really a factor-?"
"I'm only joking! Good...God." Ron grumbled out.
"I'm right here you know." Seamus said, apparently sitting on the stairs.
"I can see that."
Hermione was apparently memorizing what was printed on the paper. "...So why is it?" she asked, knitting her eyebrows together. "That we're trusting one of Malfoy's friends?"
"Harry says he has reliable information. He doesn't like it either. It's just how it is." Seamus said, coming around the corner swiftly and brushing past Ron.
Ron lifted his hand to his mouth as though it were better not to say anything at all.
"Well...Theo is working for good people now. He wasn't even all that bad at Hogwarts, I think. We should..."
Ron's hand moved from his lips. "Kick him in the nuts to remind him that-"
"No. I was going to say, give him a chance. People change, you know."
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