"STOP!" Elizabeth thundered, thinking absently that she needed to find a way to make her own voice work the way Runcorn's did. The wizards sealing the fireplaces froze. "Follow me," she whispered to the group of terrified Muggle-borns, who moved forward in a huddle, shepherded by Ron, Hermione, and Fred.
"What's up, Albert?" said a balding wizard. He looked nervous.
"This lot need to leave before you seal the exits," said Elizabeth all the authority she'd learned from her father.
The group of wizards in front of her looked at one another.
"We've been told to seal all exits and not to let anyone—
"Are you contradicting me?" Elizabeth snapped, channeling Snape when he sensed unwelcome teenage attitude. "Would you like me to have your family tree examined, like I had Dirk Cresswell's?"
"Sorry!" gasped the balding wizard, backing away. "I didn't mean anything, Albert, but I thought… I thought they were in for questioning…"
"Their blood is pure," Elizabeth said, liking the way her voice was echoing through the hall. "Purer than many of yours, I daresay. Off you go," she ordered the Muggle-borns. The Ministry wizards hung back as the group disappeared, until there was only Mrs. Cattermole.
"Mary!"
Mrs. Cattermole looked over her shoulder. The real Reg Cattermole had just come running out of a lift.
"R-Reg?"
She looked from her husband to Ron, who swore loudly.
The balding wizard gaped, his head turning from one Reg to the other.
"What's going on? What is this?"
"Seal the exit! Seal it!" Yaxley had burst out of another lift and was running toward the group beside the fireplaces. As the balding wizard lifted his wand, Elizabeth raised her man-fist and punched him, sending him flying through the air.
"He's been helping Muggle-borns escape, Yaxley!" Elizabeth shouted.
The balding wizard's colleagues set up an uproar, under cover of which Ron grabbed Mrs. Cattermole and pulled her into the still-open fireplace, disappearing. Confused, Taxley looked from Elizbaeth to the punched wizard, while the real Reg Cattermole screamed, "My wife! Who was that with my wife?"
"Go," Fred pushed Elizabeth and Hermione into the fireplace, and they whipped off to where Ron was standing with Mrs. Cattermole near the sinks of the lavatory.
"Let go, I'm not your husband," Ron was saying. "You've got to go home!"
There was a noise in the cubicle behind them; Elizabeth looked around to see Yaxley and Fred.
"Go!" Elizabeth yelled, grabbing Fred and Hermione while the latter grabbed Ron and turned on the spot.
Darkness engulfed them, along with the sensation fro compressing bands, but something was wrong… Hermione's hand seemed to be sliding out of her grip.
And then she saw the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, with its serpent door knocker, but before she could breathe, there was a scream and a flash of purple light; Hermione's hand was suddenly vice-like upon hers and everything went dark again.
*S*S*
Elizabeth opened her eyes and wondered where she was. All she could see was sky and trees. Her head throbbing, she sat up and rolled to her hands and knees.
Ron was lying several yards to her left, Hermione and Fred were on their knees beside him.
"What happened?" Elizabeth managed to stand.
"He was splinched," Fred said, his voice shaking.
"Elizabeth, in my bag, there's a small bottle labeled 'Essense of Dittany'—
"Right," Elizabeth grabbed the tiny beaded bag, and pointed her wand into the depths of the magical storage. "Accio Dittany!"
A small bottle zoomed out of the bag and she rushed it back to the huddle on the ground. Ron's eyes were half-closed.
"He's fainted," said Hermione, who was rather pale herself. She was starting to lose her Mafalda-look, but her hair was still grey. "Unstopper it for me, Elizabeth, my hands are shaking."
Elizabeth wrenched the stopped off the little bottle, then handed it to Hermione before she found Fred's hand with hers.
Hermione poured three drops of the potion on the bleeding wound. Greenish smoke billowed upward and when it had cleared, Elizabeth saw that the bleeding had stopped. The wound now looked several days old, new skin stretched over what had just been open flesh.
"Wow," said Elizabeth.
"It's all I feel safe doing," Hermione shook her head. "There are spell that would put him completely right, but I haven't got much experience… he's lost so much blood already…"
"Why are we here?" Elizabeth looked around. "I thought we were going back to Grimmauld Place?"
"Elizabeth…" Hermione took a shaky breath. "I don't think we're going to be able to go back there."
"What—
"As we Disapparated, Yaxley caught hold of me and I couldn't get rid of him, he was too strong, and he was still holding on when we arrived at Grimmauld Place, and then… well, I think he must have seen the door, and thought we were stopping there, so he slackened his grip and I managed to shake him off and I brought us here instead!"
"You mean he's at Grimmauld Place? He can't get in there."
"Betsy," Fred pressed his lips together, looking at his brother. "I think he can. We were already inside the Fidelius Charm's protection. We were the Secret-Keepers, so we've given him the secret."
Elizabeth knew immediately that he was right. She drew her wand and sent her Patronus to Spinner's End. "Headquarters was compromised, everyone is out, stay away."
"Elizabeth, I'm so sorry," Hermione looked like she was going to cry,
"Don't be stupid, it wasn't your fault! If anything, it was mine." Elizabeth put her hand in her pocket and drew out Mad-Eye's eye. Fred looked at it with disgust.
"Umbridge had it stuck to her office door, to spy on people. I couldn't leave it there… but that's why they knew there were intruders."
Fred looked disapproving, but before he could speak, Ron groaned and opened his eyes. He was still gray and his face glistened with sweat.
"How do you feel?" Hermione whispered.
"Lousy," croaked Ron, wincing as he felt his injured arm. "Where are we?"
"In the woods where they held the Quidditch World Cup," said Hermione.
"Do you think we should move on?" Ron asked. "We have… connections to this place."
"I don't know," Elizabeth said softly.
"No," Fred shook his head. "We aren't going to move you right now. We'll stay awhile."
Hermione sprang to her feet. "If we're staying, we should put some protective enchantments around the place," she said.
Elizabeth watched as she walked the perimeter of the clearing, murmuring incantations as she went. She felt Fred stand and pull her to her feet. "Listen, Fred—
"You two could get out the tent," Hermione said.
Fred went to the bag and performed a Summoning Charm, producing a lumpy mass of canvas, rope, and poles.
"I thought this belonged to some guy at the Ministry?" Elizabeth asked, starting to sort out the tent pegs.
"Apparently he didn't want it back," Fred said. "Dad said we could borrow it. Erecto!" He pointed his wand at the misshapen canvas, which in one fluid motion rose into the air and settled, fully constructed onto the ground before Elizabeth.
"Here," Fred held open the flap. "We're going to make sure everything is in order in here," he called to Hermione. He looked at Elizabeth with something in his face that she couldn't quite read.
Inside, the tent was much like the one that she had stayed in at the World Cup. There were two bedrooms off a common area, plus a bathroom. Fred strode into one of the bedrooms. When Elizabeth followed, she found him sitting on the bed, elbows resting on his knees. Then, she recognized his expression.
"You're angry."
Fred shook his head. "No."
"You are," Elizabeth went to stand between his knees, locking her fingers behind his neck.
Fred sighed and put his arms around her waist. "I said I'm not angry. I'm… concerned that you did an emotional, reckless thing today that alerted Ministry officials."
"I had to get those people out. They were Kissing them, Fred—
"That's not what I'm talking about," Fred interrupted. "I'm talking about you ripping Moody's eye off Umbridge's door."
"I couldn't let it stay there—
"He isn't using it," Fred said seriously. "There were a million risky things we did today, and I wish you wouldn't add to them."
Elizabeth nodded. "She's just such a bitch."
Fred laughed. "True," he leaned back on the bed and pulled her on top of him. "I can't believe you thought I was mad about the Muggle-borns."
"That was emotional as well," Elizabeth sighed. "I just kept thinking that my mum… I hate these people, Fred. I hate them like I've never hated anyone."
"Have you ever hated anyone, sunshine and light?" Fred teased.
"You're a dork," Elizabeth laughed, kissing him.
"Ehm," Hermione knocked on the door jamb. "Fred, can you carry your brother in here? He won't let me levitate him, he's being… Ron."
"Ugh," Fred groaned as Elizabeth rolled off his chest. "I never liked him." He stood up and went outside. The girls went into the common room as they listened to Fred's good- natured jibing of his brother.
"Move aside, invalid coming through," Fred quipped as he carried Ron through the door.
"I can walk," Ron protested. "It's only a little—
"Arm detachment?" Hermione scowled. "Put him on the sofa."
"So, have you got it?" Elizabeth asked Hermione, sitting in on of the armchairs.
"Got what?" she asked absently, throwing a blanket over Ron.
"What did we just go through all that for? The locket! Where's the locket?"
"You got it?" Ron and Fred chorused; the former trying to sit up and the latter pushing him back down.
"No one tells me anything!" Ron shouted. "You could have mentioned it!"
"Well, we were running for our lives from the Death Eaters, weren't we?" said Hermione. "Here." She pulled the locket out of the pocket of her robes and handed it to Ron.
"There isn't any chance someone's destroyed it since Kreacher had it?" asked Fred hopefully.
"There would be some sign of damage if it had been magically destroyed," Hermione said, taking it back from Ron and inspecting it closely before passing it to Elizabeth.
"I imagine Kreacher's right," Elizabeth said. "We're going to have to work out how to open this thing before we can destroy it." She felt a violent urge to fling the locket from her. Taking a deep breath, she forced the feeling down.
"What are we going to do with it?" Hermione asked.
"Keep it safe until we work out how to destroy it," Elizabeth said. She hung the chain around her own neck, dropping the locket out of sight beneath her robes, where it rested against her chest, next to the portkey that would take her to Hogwarts in an emergency. Not that it was a safer location anymore, despite her father's position.
"I think we should take turns keeping watch outside the tent," Elizabeth said, standing and stretching. And we'll need to think about some food as well. You stay there," she added sharply, as Ron attempted to sit up and turned a nasty shade of green.
*S*S*
"What does she mean, compromised?" Sirius looked at Severus as the Basilisk disappeared.
"To compromise, in this case, means to expose to danger or disgrace," Severus said dryly, trying to slow his pounding heart. "I'd imagine, in this particular moment, she is leaning toward the 'danger' part of the definition."
"How about you take your dictionary and shove it up your—
"Boys," Tonks broke in from the kitchen. "Remus isn't here to referee, so give me a break, alright?"
"Tell him to stop being a pansy and come downstairs. Everyone knows the werewolf thing is a crock," Sirius shouted up the stairs.
The response that Remus shouted back made Severus glad that his daughter wasn't anywhere within earshot.
A silver weasel appeared in front of the two men.
"Ministry was attacked by four polyjuiced wizards or witches. Word from kids?" Mr. Weasley's voice came out of the weasel's mouth.
"Sent word that headquarters is unsafe. Not sure if connected," Severus told his doe, then sent it out the door.
"Not sure if it's connected?" Sirius snorted. "Our baby girl attacked the Ministry of Magic."
"We don't know that," Severus shook his head. "And she's not a baby. Running around with a bloody diamond on her finger."
"A couple of us were wondering when you were going to have the boy killed," Sirius chuckled. "We thought you must have said yes in order to distract everyone while you disposed of the body."
Severus sighed. "She was of age. He asked as a formality. At least this time," he rolled his eyes. "Six times, you know that? Six times, I had a terrified young man begging me to let him marry my daughter."
"And the last time?"
Severus grimaced. "I had a young man who showed me a diamond ring and reminded me that my daughter would be devastated if I didn't give my blessing to her engagement. He was distinctly not afraid of me. It was unnerving."
Sirius laughed. "Push-over."
"Oh really?" Severus scowled. "I don't remember asking for your opinion, mutt."
"Boys!" Tonks shouted again.
"Anyway," Severus stood. "I came to check in, but I have to go back now. First day of the term, you know."
"And you've found out that Headmasters do absolutely nothing all day?" Sirius grinned.
"Yes, actually," Severus sighed, heading out into the backyard. "I should open the floo again and let the Death Eaters come for you."
"Come home soon, love," Sirius shouted, waving enthusiastically.
*S*S*
"It sucks," Elizabeth said, her back resting against the tent.
"What?" Fred asked, stretching his legs in front of him as he sat beside her on the ground. "We've got a Horcrux."
"Yeah, but we have no idea how to destroy it, and we definitely don't know where the other ones are."
"Well, we could find a basilisk," Fred joked, draping an arm around her shoulders.
"Yeah," Elizabeth rolled her eyes.
They were quiet for a while. Nameless forebodings crept upon her as Elizabeth sat there in the dark. She tried to resist them, push them away, yet they came at her relentlessly. Neither can live while the other survives. She was tied to this. Tied to the piece of soul that lay against her breastbone.
Her scar started to prickle. And then burn. Angry flames licked at her forehead.
"Give it to me, Gregorovitch."
Elizabeth's voice was high, clear, and cold, her wand hand held in front of her by a long-fingered white hand. The man at whom she was pointing was suspended upside down in midair, though there were no ropes holding him; he swung there, invisibly and eerily bound, his limbs wrapped about him, his terrified face, on a level with Elizabeth's, ruddy due to the blood that had rushed to his head. He had pure-white hair and a thick, bushy beard.
"I have it not, I have it no more! It was, many years ago, stolen from me!"
"Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Gregorovitch. He knows. He always knows."
The hanging man's pupils were wide, and they seemed to swell bigger and bigger until their blackness swallowed Elizabeth whole—
"Who was the thief, Gregorovitch?" said the high, cold voice.
"I do not know, I never knew, a young man, no, please! Please!"
A scream that went on and on and then a burst of green light.
"Elizabeth!"
She opened her eyes, panting, her forehead throbbing. She had passed out, sprawled on the ground, with Fred kneeling beside her.
"Dream," she said, sitting up quickly despite the pain in her head. "Must have dozed off."
"Try lying to me again," Fred challenged, glowering at her. "I thought we agreed that you were going to start shielding your mind—
"I didn't mean it to happen!" Elizabeth scowled. "It was a dream! Can you control what you dream about?"
"If you would focus on Occlumency—
"He's found Grgorovitch," Elizabeth interrupted. "I think he's killed him, but before that, he read Gregorovitch's mind and I saw—
"If you're so tired you're falling asleep, I'd better finish the watch on my own," Fred said firmly.
"I can finish the watch!"
"No, you're obviously exhausted," Fred strode over to the mouth of the tent and held back the flap. "Go to bed."
"Do I look like your little sister?"
Fred raised an eyebrow, but otherwise refused to be drawn into an argument. Sighing, Elizabeth went into the tent in search of Ron, who might listen to the contents of her vision.
"Where's Hermione?" Elizabeth asked the younger Weasley, sitting on the floor beside his bed.
"Shower," Ron gestured to the bathroom. "What's You-Know-Who doing?" he whispered.
Elizabeth thought for a moment. "He found Gregorovitch. He had him tied up and was torturing him."
"How's he supposed to make him a new wand when he's tied up?"
"I don't know," Elizabeth shook her head.
"Go to bed!" Fred called through the canvas. "Both of you!"
Elizabeth rolled her eyes and lowered her voice even more. "He wanted something from Gregorovitch, but he said it was stolen… then Voldemort read his mind, and there was a young guy… I think I've seen him somewhere."
"Where?"
"I don't know, do I?" Elizabeth sighed. "But Gregorovitch is dead, so Voldemort has to be going after the thief."
"So it's a good thing that You-Know-Who is into non-violent conflict resolution, huh?"
Elizabeth laughed. "Yeah. Hermione's taking the next watch?"
"Mhmm," Ron closed his eyes. "Why does Fred have his knickers in a twist?"
"He's of the Hermione school of Occulmency."
"Like you should be using it?" Ron said sleepily.
"Yeah, though how they want me to use it in my sleep, I don't know."
Hermione emerged from the bathroom, tying her bushy hair back into a ponytail. "I'm going to trade watches with Fred. Switch again in four hours?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth said, standing and heading into the other bedroom. "I've been told that I'm tired, so I'm going to bed."
Hermione shared a look with Ron, but went outside to take over for Fred.
Elizabeth changed, and pulled the blankets back on one side of the bed, lying on her stomach, burying her face in the cool cotton of the pillowcase.
Fred let Hermione take his place and dragged his weary body into the bedroom. He looked at Elizabeth, sleeping in her angry pose. Or not sleeping. It was impossible to tell. Which was probably part of the reason for her angry position.
He wondered for a moment if he was welcome in bed with her, but she'd left the large bed whole, not splitting it in two or, as he'd witnessed once when he'd come into his parents' room early in the morning as a child, split the bed in two and transfigured one side into a lumpy, uncomfortable sofa. Mrs. Weasley was not a woman to be scorned.
Seeing as the bed was still one, Fred stripped to a t-shirt and boxers, sliding in the other side of the bed.
He was quiet for a long time, staring at the canvas ceiling. He listened to Ron and Hermione talking through the tent entrance, then what sounded like Hermione moving Ron's bed to the door so they could talk more easily.
"I don't want that… thing… in your head," Fred said aloud, talking to the ceiling.
There was no response from the other side of the bed.
"I know you don't enjoy the link," he continued. "I'm not accusing you of that. But you are a talented witch, with the best Occulmens in the world as your teacher. You know how to do it. But you don't. You don't force him out, even though you know it's dangerous."
He scowled, "I've had to pick you up off the ground twice since Bill's wedding, and I suspect that there were other incidents you hid from me. I don't mind picking you up. I just have to wonder why you keep letting it happen. I know it helps us get information, but I'm not comfortable with it. Just like I'm not comfortable with the Dursley's in their cushy home, happy as can be."
"I don't know if you understand, but this," Fred motioned back and forth between them, "is it for me in the world. It's all you and me from here on out. Nothing and no one matters as much to me. And I can't get into your head to make him stop, so I'm dealing with this the only way I know how."
Again, no response.
"Maybe I'm not handling it right," Fred went on. "But this is what I want. Ready? I want you to stop hiding it from me. I promise not to freak out, if you'll stop running into the bathroom pretending to brush your teeth, so I have to break the door down."
"You've never had to break down the door," Elizabeth muttered into her pillow.
"You know what I mean," Fred rolled onto his side, putting his head on her pillow. "Do we have a deal?"
"You'll stop being really inconsiderate and flying off the handle if I stop trying to protect you?"
Fred snorted. "Yeah. I guess that's the deal."
"Okay then," Elizabeth mumbled, her face still obscured by fabric. "Don't be an arse."
"Yes, ma'am," Fred nodded even though she couldn't see him. "As long as there aren't any more bathroom doors." He seemed to think about whom he was talking to. "Or an other doors. Or any other hiding places."
