Pricking Achilles' Heel
The Weasley house was in an uproar, even after the Weasley children had been sent outside. Wizard after wizard kept streaming from the stuffy congested fireplace, tracking ash and dust across the clean family rug. Mr. Weasley rushed madly into the family room, three chairs tucked beneath each arm, and a stool balanced on his head. Still, there was nowhere to sit, and he had to resort to Transfiguring the slipper rack into a six-person sofa. To the casual observer this seemed to be some sort of party, but in actuality, this convention was a meeting called by Albus Dumbledore.
In the kitchen, Molly frantically diced onions while minding the pots of sauce and stew that sloshed furiously over the stove. It was never an easy task to cook for thirty some wizards, even with the aid of magic.
There was a knock on the door and Arabella Figg and Minerva McGonagall entered the kitchen.
"We thought you'd like a bit of company," offered Arabella, as she began chopping a head of lettuce. She was a short bony witch with a slight bend in her back. But although she was old, she wasn't dreary or old-fashioned. In fact, she was quite upbeat, and everything she did was fast. Quite athletic, she wore a magenta jogging suit and orange sneakers. "The guys are playing with Arthur's Muggle power tools."
Mrs. Weasley sighed a hopeless sigh as Minerva awkwardly rolled up her sleeves before plunging her hands into a basin of dirty dishes.
There was a loud thump and the Weasley twins and Ginny trooped through the back door, each carrying a case of Filibuster Fireworks and a scorched broomstick.
"We tied rockets to our brooms. Ron was a bit ambitious."
"Seven fireworks--"
"Burst clear out of sight—"
"Should be back in an hour or two—"
"In time for dinner."
"Oh, hullo Professor," George said, noticing his Head of House. "Of course we'd be glad to be Head Boy."
"Thank you for the honor," said Fred most seriously, bowing slightly.
Then, the twins rushed up the stairs, as Ginny followed, giggling.
After Gunther Flitwick preformed a sound-containing spell over the living room (to keep the Weasley twins from eavesdropping), Alastor Moody, the eldest of the wizards present, commenced the meeting.
"I'm not sure what's keeping Albus," he said gruffly, "but we're to start anyways. Now I expect all of you have raised defenses for your family, because once Voldemort sees you as a threat, he will exterminate you and everyone you know. If this bothers you, you can leave."
No one stood up, but as Moody observed each witch and wizard in the Weasley's family room, he did notice some of the younger ones tremble uneasily. He could also see Molly and Arthur exchanging glances. Out of all the wizards here, he knew that only the Weasleys had children to worry about. And yet they still joined when Dumbledore had asked them for help.
Clearing his throat, Moody continued, "Hagrid and Madame Maxime should be back around dinnertime to tell us if the giants wish to begin an alliance. They had better agree, for the Dementors have already sided with Voldemort. Azkaban has been breached."
This was met with much shock and disbelief. Molly gasped and gripped her husband's hand very tightly, as if she expected loose Dementors to stroll by the Burrow any moment.
"Fudge should have listened to us," Sirius burst, angrily. "We told him Azkaban would fall, that the Dementors couldn't be trusted."
"When did this happen?" asked Professor McGonagall, her voice upset.
"Yesterday."
"Why didn't they tell us?"
"The Ministry didn't want to panic the public," said Arthur Weasley, sadly. "They didn't even tell me."
Arabella tossed her head. "They were never helpful anyway…we can do without them."
"But with the Dementors on his side…"
"He's approached the werewolves and vampires, too."
"But that's just rumors!"
"They are true," said Snape, who stood in the corner. He preferred to stand, though there was room enough on the couch between Sirius and Remus.
"We must go into hiding. But more importantly, what is You-Know-Who planning, now that's he has returned?"
"He's going to kill Harry Potter."
"Yes, eventually," said Mundungus Fletcher, impatiently, sitting cross-legged and tapping his fingernail on his shoe. He was a tall and limber man, and could have been a tap dancer. "But that's just a highlight, not his primary aim."
"Attack Hogwarts, then, come September. He'd destroy a generation of wizards in one sweep."
"Not while Dumbledore's there," said Sirius, adamantly. Remus nodded in agreement.
"You-Know-How's not going to wait," said McGonagall, haltingly, for the words felt strange to say. She didn't know that she was whispering. "The war is begun."
Fletcher opened his mouth to disagree, but whatever he was going to say got drowned out in the noise that followed.
There was a heavy thump, and the fire in the fireplace glowed green for a moment. A shower of dark ash floated down.
Sirius whipped out his wand, as Remus crouched into a fighting stance.
"Minerva," came the voice from within chimney, hollow with echoes, "My beard's caught."
After a very delicate extrication, Albus Dumbledore emerged, covered in black soot from beard to toe.
"Good day. I'm sorry I'm late. I went to investigate what's left of Azkaban."
"Yes?" inquired Moody, clearly curious.
"We can discuss that later. I'd better tell Hagrid not to come by Floo."
Molly reddened in embarrassment and asked her husband why he hadn't cleaned the chimney as he had promised.
"I'll give you a hand, sir," volunteered a young man about Bill's age that had come with Mundungus Fletcher. In fact, Arthur didn't even know his name. He was one of the younger wizards in the group, probably only a child during the terror of Voldemort's reign.
"I'm Wallace Whitman. I excel at chimney sweeping."
The meeting dissolved into what was supposed to be light conversation as they waited for dinner and Hagrid's arrival. Arabella and Mundungus were sampling lemon drops and other Muggle sweets while Moody joined Snape in the corner.
"You see," said Wallace to Mr. Weasley, as he jammed a broom up the chimney, "I graduated from Auror college, only to find there were no openings for the job. Having battled You-Know-Who, all the senior members were very experienced and they didn't need a wet-behind-the-ears youngster like me. So, I worked at Madam Malkin's for bit, before hiring myself out as a chimney sweep. It's actually quite profitable. Everyone uses Floo in Diagon Alley, but no one likes the cleaning involved afterwards."
Gunther Flitwick was showing Dumbledore a small trinket that looked like a collar pin. He had a whole box filled with them.
"This is an advanced Portkey, and when you nudge it twice and say 'skram', it transports you back to Hogwarts. In fact, you can even use your chin to do it, if your hands are tied up." He pinned one on Severus. "It looks very sharp, indeed."
In another corner of the room, Sirius, Remus, and Professor McGonagall were talking.
"So you're an Animagus." The word illegal floated briefly into McGonagall's mind.
"Yes, but unfortunately Peter knows my disguise," said Sirius, hands clenched into fists. "The rat."
"We'll need new Animagii spies, then. This is going to be a long, dark battle and Professor Snape shouldn't have to carry the full brunt of the work."
"Perhaps Wallace over there," Remus gestured. "You could teach him."
Sirius asked, "What about you, Minerva? You're a cat."
"Every Death Eater out of Hogwarts knows that," she said simply. "Though…"
He cocked his head, seeing the glint in her eyes. "You've got an idea?" She didn't answer for a moment. "Well?"
"Yes," she said slowly, even hesitantly, "Yes, but it needs research. As soon as I've more information, I'll tell you."
"Dinner's ready," called Mrs. Weasley, poking her frazzled head into the living room. "Finally."
As they entered the kitchen, Gunther Flitwick clapped his hands with delight.
"You've really outdone yourself, Molly," said an awed Mr. Fletcher. He gazed longingly at the meatballs.
Halfway during the meal, Hagrid and Madame Maxime showed up, along with Ron. His bright red hair and his Shooting Star were singed to various degrees, giving him a very wild, dazed look.
"We found him in a tree," said Hagrid.
"Wiv alf ze leaves gone," put in Olympe, shaking her head.
"Then we walked fer another seven miles before reachin' the Burrow. Sorry we're so late."
"Who put ze anti-apparation barrier around ze house?" asked Olympe, casting a suspicious glance at the Charms Professor.
"I told Gunther to," said Dumbledore. "Just in case. Please, sit down. You must be exhausted."
"Yeah," said Ron, as he tramped upstairs, "I'm going to get some Blisterbanish."
After everyone had eaten their fill, Hagrid and Madame Maxime were bombarded with questions concerning their assembly with the giants.
"We talked fer a long time, but they're stayin' neutral," said Hagrid, as he poked at the last crumbs of his casserole. "Which is good fer them." Giants were known to be impulsive.
"Zey are waiting for You-Know-Oo to make ze first move."
"He already has," Black grumbled, stabbing a meatball savagely.
"Then you did well," said Dumbledore, smiling. "We're glad both of you have returned safely. And now, a few more matters to discuss before we leave."
"We'll need to alert the public," said the Headmaster, grimly "Wizards and Muggles alike, everywhere. They deserve to know, even if they won't heed our warnings."
"They won't."
Mad-Eye Moody shot Sirius a silencing glare.
"On a more local level," continued Dumbledore, "we're to raise shields over the Muggle communities in Britain. Everyone will take a sector." Seeing Snape's poorly disguised contempt, he said, "It's not their war."
"And what about ordinary wizarding folks? Are they expected to protect themselves?"
"An announcement can be made over the radio," said Minerva. "Once they have been informed, they can act accordingly."
"In theory," said Sirius. "They won't believe us."
"They will soon enough," said Snape.
Arabella nodded. "Speaking of which, everyone should look through all the potent and effective blocking, disarming, and attacking spells. Also, practice wandless magic, for there may be times when your wand is caught in your opponents fist."
She mentioned many other Auror techniques of combat, all complicated and difficult. Molly wondered how she was going to learn these things in mere weeks, when it had taken the Aurors many years. With Dementers loose, no aid from the Ministry, a disbelieving public to convince and protect, and on the brink of war…
At the end of the evening, Flitwick's Portkeys were passed out to everyone. The Weasleys were thanked for opening up their home and one by one, each wizard and witch left by Floo. Remus and Sirius, who were staying at Hogwarts for the summer, disappeared with two turns of the Portkey.
When all the guests had left, Arthur Weasley turned to his tired wife. After insisting that she get some rest, he trudged off to the kitchens to deal with the dishes. Then, he pulled a thick Defense Against the Dark Arts book from his bookshelf, sat down by the fire, and started reading.