Notes: Don't expect another chapter until Christmas, because that's the Christmas chapter! XD;;


Part IX

The skies above Germany were grey and dull, a perfect representation of Ludwig's feelings as he and Feliciano dug three graves in the backyard of the Althaus house.

"Ve… I'm tired, Luddy," Feliciano whimpered for about the billionth time already. "Can we take a break?"

"You can, but I won't stop," Ludwig replied as he made Hulda's grave a little deeper with another flick of his wand. Feliciano sat down underneath a tree in the backyard, leaning against the trunk with a sigh.

"Why are you trying to bury them today?" he asked. "And shouldn't we bury them in a graveyard?"

"People will ask questions," Ludwig said stiffly as he continued to dig.

In the end, he had the three graves ready. Feliciano helped him take the bodies out of the house and bury them. The Italian even placed flowers on the grave as Ludwig marked them.

They stood back to admire their handiwork. "Are we going to Tuscany now, Ludwig?"

"Ja," Ludwig mumbled, his voice like a eulogy. "Ja, let's go."


Francis had made them all leave the house while he cast the Fidelius Charm.

"You don't want to be there when the spell's cast and the house suddenly disappears," he remarked wryly. "So it'd be better if you three went elsewhere…"

"The Zone Piettone," Madeline said immediately. "Come on, Kiku, Alfred!"

They walked along the boulevard, which was quiet compared to the rest of the city. Madeline dragged them into random boutiques occasionally, but overall all they did was walk and window-shop. Alfred eventually got bored and started people watching.

"Let's sit down," Kiku said after a moment. They came to a little café and took a table outside. Kiku ordered some tea; Alfred and Madeline ordered iced coffees.

Around them people were bustling about, shopping and meeting friends. Kiku watched them over the rim of his teacup. The Muggles all seemed to be so happy, so unaffected… while they feared that Death Eaters could swoop in any second and wreck their happiness…

"Bonjour," said a voice nearby, and Kiku nearly jumped out of his skin in fright.

"F-Francis-san, don't do that," he complained, even as the Frenchman pecked Madeline on both cheeks and smirked at him.

"The charm's done," he said cheerfully. "It was rather… well, rather puzzling at first, since Flitwick talked more about the theory behind the charm rather than how to invoke it…"

"Right, so can you share the secret with us now?" Alfred asked eagerly. Francis nodded, taking out a scrap of parchment.


Nataliya slipped into the dungeons with some more food, as usual. Ollivander took his portion silently, as the Belarusian sat down across from Arthur.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to realise that most of the Warsaw Pact have pretty much defected?" Arthur asked. Nataliya shrugged.

"They've been pretty busy with their own business – controlling the Ministry and hunting down wandmakers in Germany –"

"Wait, wandmakers in Germany?" Arthur demanded. "Is he after something? Like... a wand to defeat Harry's maybe?"

"Yes," Ollivander called from his corner. "He's looking for the Elder Wand."

"But he's looking for Gregorovitch!" Nataliya exclaimed.

"Exactly," the wandmaker said. "A few decades ago he claimed that he was duplicating the properties of the Elder Wand."

Arthur, having been raised in a wizarding household, knew why Voldemort would seek the Elder Wand.


"Welcome to my house, Luddy!" Feliciano exclaimed happily, opening the door and prancing into the villa. "Fratello? Gilbert? I'm back!"

"Is Luddy fine?" Gilbert's voice sounded from the living room.

"Ja, I'm fine," Ludwig said, and moments later the albino Prussian had charged out of nowhere, engulfing the German in a bone-crushing hug.

"Bruder, bruder, this is totally unawesome of me but I'm just so fuckin' glad that you're alive!" Ludwig turned bright red at that.

"Gil, I'm glad to know you're all right as well, but you're cutting off my circulation," he gasped as the Prussian squeezed tighter and tighter.

"Oh! Right! Entschuldigung!" Gilbert broke away, looking apologetic.

Feliciano was happily watching them. "I'll go make some pasta!" he exclaimed.


Kiku thought of Bonnefois Villa and the location that Francis had written on the parchment, and suddenly the house was there, lights twinkling in the sunset.

Dinner was quiet. Francis had cooked a delicious five-course meal, but no one talked throughout. Afterwards, he and Madeline went for a walk in the garden. Alfred wandered to the half-court Quidditch pitch to practice his Beater skills, and Kiku went to bed.

Despite being in his sleep clothes and sprawled out on his bed, sleep wouldn't come to the Japanese man. He stared up at the ceiling of his room. It was times like this – when he was lonely and it was quiet and he had nothing to do – that he started thinking of Arthur again, thinking of how much he missed his friend...

Had their kiss meant anything? Arthur said nothing about courting him, nothing about love or even reciprocal feelings of his own.

But actions speak louder than words, a voice reminded him. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't have kissed you.

He had heard rumours that Arthur and Francis had broken up the afternoon of Dumbledore's death – he could easily recall the happiness that expanded in his chest when Mei Wang told him the news. He felt so mean to be so happy when Arthur had undoubtedly been heartbroken, but then again, he had never liked the Frenchman much.

Working and putting up with Francis was his way of making sure that Arthur had not given himself up in vain.

Kiku sighed, wiped stray tears from his eyes, and closed them, but sleep still evaded him.


"There's been a Ministry break-in," Nataliya reported later on in the endless darkness – because day and night had no meaning when one was cooped up in a dark and dank cellar – as she brought them a meal that could have been dinner or maybe even the next day's breakfast. Arthur couldn't tell by this point.

"What?" Arthur asked, frowning slightly. "Who's behind it?"

"Harry Potter, I suspect," Nataliya replied. "In any case, there were at least three impostors in the Ministry today, masked with Polyjuice Potion. They stole Mad-Eye Moody's eye and helped some Muggle-borns escape... and I think they attacked Dolores Umbridge, too."

"Well, it was about time the old hag got what was coming to her," Arthur said scathingly, and Nataliya giggled.

"She's a right old bat, she is," the Belarusian agreed. "We were supposed to go and assess the damage, but no one bothered talking to Umbridge. She seemed rather put out by that."

Arthur snickered. "Serves her right." He knew perfectly well that if Harry had attacked her, he would have had every reason to. "Any news on Alfred?"

"Yes, I found a list of Muggle-borns that did not 'turn themselves in for interrogation'," the Belarusian said solemnly. "Alfred, Matthew, and Im Yong-Soo are on the list, as well as Hermione Granger."

Arthur bit his bottom lip. "Good," he said after a moment. "They've probably gone into hiding."

"And I found files on everyone when I was searching Umbridge's office." Nataliya pulled out a card. "Look what they've got on you."

Arthur frowned as he read the card. "Arthur Kirkland. Blood status: Pureblood, with unacceptable pro-Mudblood leanings. Possible member of the Order of the Phoenix. Family: Three brothers, one sister. Two brothers and sister work for Ministry and Gringotts, the youngest currently attends Hogwarts. Security Status: Unknown. Possibly in hiding with Undesirable Number One (have been friends while at Hogwarts)..." he trailed off, staring at the last part incredulously. "They think I'm in hiding with...?"

"With Harry," Nataliya replied.

"That's... ugh..." Arthur screwed up his face. "Words fail me. Is my government really that idiotic?"


After several failed attempts at falling asleep, Kiku finally managed to do so – and dream of Arthur.

They were together, alone, and holding onto each other as if the world was falling around their ears (because it was) and the only thing that was certain anymore was the fact that Arthur was kissing him and he liked it. So he kissed the dream Arthur back, reaching out to stroke his cheek and run his fingers through the Briton's golden locks, never wanting the dream to end but knowing that it had to.

"Don't let me go, ever," the dream Arthur whispered in his ear. "Please?"

"I'm sorry that I killed you," was all Kiku could say, "and I'll never let you go. Ever again..."

Everything else seemed to be such a pleasant blur after that – it was just Arthur and him, in a field surrounded by nothing but stars that twinkled like little Swarovski crystals overhead, and he had pressed himself close to the Slytherin, wrapping his arms around him and letting his lips meander along Arthur's collarbone. This was heaven, and part of the Japanese man wished that he could die so he could stay in the dream forever... stay with the dream Arthur that was holding him close and caressing him...

"Kiku?" someone asked.

Kiku reluctantly pulled himself out of his dream to see Madeline standing in the doorway. "Hai, Madeline-chan?"

"We were just wondering if you were all right," the Seychellois girl replied kindly, concernedly.

"I'm fine," he replied, and she smiled.

"That's good... do you need anything?"

Kiku shook his head, settling back against the pillows. "Good night, Madeline-chan," he said firmly.

"Bonne nuit," she replied as she left.


Arthur smiled at the little girl that came running up to him, her arms outstretched and her face cheerful. "Hello, darling," he cooed, sweeping her up in his arms and spinning her around once more. "How are you?"

"Wonderful!" she giggled, nuzzling her neck. "What about you?"

Arthur had no idea what to say to that, so he just settled for holding the little girl close to him, as if she were a priceless jewel.

"Papa, I'm going to Hogwarts soon," the little girl said, and suddenly she wasn't a little girl anymore. Arthur gaped at the eleven-year-old standing before her.

"You... just... grew..." he said slowly, staring at her in disbelief.

"This is just a dream, isn't it?" she asked, taking him by the hand and leading him onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. "Papa, you'll write to me, won't you?"

And Arthur couldn't help but be reminded of little Alfred, the little boy with the cornflower eyes that he had dreamed of four years ago – the little boy who grew up way too fast, like this little girl who was now waving at him onboard the Hogwarts Express. There was another boy sitting next to her who looked like a cross between Alfred and Nataliya and another across from her with Matthew's hair and Yekaterina's smile...

Arthur woke up to darkness once more, with a sudden urge to cry.