Chapter 10

December 1997, London

The next morning, all was quiet. That is, all was just as quiet as it usually was. Muggles in their cars were still rumbling along the street below, and she could hear Wood's deep, slow breathing from the other side of the bed. All seemed to be well for the moment at least, and she wondered vaguely whether last night's precautions had been necessary after all.

Susie rolled over slowly, trying carefully not to wake him. Even in sleep, he looked worried, with his brow deeply furrowed and the corners of his mouth curved into a frown. Something had changed last night, she knew. Ron's arrival had made everything seem much more real, and much more like a war in which one side was fighting the other. They both knew that the simple act of offering Ron shelter had transformed them from indifferent bystanders into opponents of You Know Who, and that there was no going back. The knowledge was frightening, yes – she would not deny it – but also strangely liberating.

As she watched him, Wood stirred gently and his eyes, unusually alert, looked straight into hers. Perhaps he hadn't been asleep after all.

"What's up?" he asked.

She didn't say anything, but shuffled closer to him, drawing comfort from the familiar warmth of his body and nestling her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

"Did you sleep at all?" he asked, slipping a protective arm around her shoulders.

"Not really."

"Me neither."

"Everything's different now, isn't it?"

"Yes," he answered with his usual frankness. "Yes, it is. But we'll be all right."

"Really?" Although she could not see his face, there was a note in his voice that betrayed a faint smile. "Course we will. I've got you to look after me, haven't I?"

"I thought it was supposed to be you looking after me."

"Nah, you're miles better at spells. What could I do against You Know Who? I'd just have to grab my broom and fly at him really quickly and hope I had the element of surprise."

Now she was smiling too.

"Do you have any idea how to find them?"

An hour had passed. Wood was sitting opposite Ron, with Susie standing anxiously behind his chair. She'd made a pot of coffee and had half-heartedly suggested breakfast, but no one was particularly hungry.

"I was thinking," Ron said, "that it might be better if I tried to search on my own, rather than wasting loads of time trying to find Harry and Hermione again." His hoarse voice and the grey bags under his eyes suggested that he had lain awake all night coming to this conclusion. "They'll have covered their tracks well. If You Know Who can't find them, I don't stand a chance." His voice betrayed bitter disappointment. Susie and Wood exchanged glances.

"We've been doing some thinking too," Wood said. "Wherever you go, you can't stay here forever, and we thought – well, Susie thought that it might be a good idea to send you on your way with a batch of... of..."

"...Polyjuice Potion," Susie finished for him.

Ron's eyebrows rose in interest.

"Making it from scratch takes ages," she said, "but you can buy all of the ingredients pre-prepared, if you know where to find them, and I'm pretty sure I can remember enough of Snape's seventh year Advanced Potions classes to have a decent stab at making some." She paused. "Of course, its use is not entirely legal, but..."

"And if you were to look like me," Wood went on, ignoring Susie's last few words, "it would make things a lot simpler for you. Unless you run into some die-hard Puddlemere fans."

Ron almost smirked. The mood felt very different this morning: still serious, and with an edge of darkness, but also with a new sense of purpose and excitement. The Polyjuice plan had encouraged him immensely; it felt like something Hermione might have thought up.

So, that evening, Susie came home from work via a Diagon Alley apothecary, and Ron found himself at the heart of a very familiar scene. There was a cauldron simmering on the fire, and an ancient, second (or maybe third or fourth)-hand copy of Moste Potente Potions was propped up against an armchair. It was late: Susie had been working for hours, her cheeks flushed with the heat of the fire. Wood had long since grown bored of watching the cauldron, and was lounging on the sofa with a copy of Which Broomstick.

"I think it's just about there," Susie suddenly announced, prompting both of her companions to sit up in interest. She ran her finger down the page of instructions, checking to see that she'd done all that was required. "There's just one thing left to do."

"What's that?" Wood asked. "Bloody hell, Suze!" He raised a hand to his head suddenly: without warning, she had reached up and pulled out three of his short, brown hairs. She sprinkled them into the cauldron, which bubbled and turned a vivid shade of scarlet.

"Well, look at that," she observed with a tired smile.

Ron grinned. "So that's what colour Wood is?"

"Gryffindor to the core." Susie cast a brief glance at Wood, who looked quietly delighted.

Reaching for a ladle, she put a little of the potion into a mug. "It's still hot, but we have to test it."

Ron held out a hand, but she hesitated. "Maybe I should try it first – I can't guarantee that it will work..."

"Rubbish." Ron took the cup from her before she could protest and rose to his feet. "I trust you," he assured her, raising the cup to his lips.

"Just a drop!" she warned. "We don't want you looking like Wood for too long."

Wood himself had shifted to the very edge of his seat and, with his tightly clasped hands resting on his knees, looked intrigued. He had never even heard of Polyjuice Potion until today – let alone witnessed its effects – having dropped Potions as soon as he possibly could. Even Susie had only ever studied the potion in theory, and was watching anxiously.

Taking Susie's advice, Ron dipped his finger in the scarlet potion and brushed a tiny drop of it on the tip of his tongue. It took effect almost instantly in a manner that was grotesque to behold. His skin rippled loosely, his eyes bulged; his whole essence seemed to shudder. Almost before they knew what was happening, a second Oliver Wood stood before them in Ron Weasley's clothes. For a few moments, all they could do was stare at him in utter bewilderment. Hesitantly, Susie approached him with an outstretched hand and gently touched his cheek.

"Incredible," she murmured. Ignoring the new Wood's awkwardness, she touched his hair, his ears, his shoulders, before running her fingers down the length of his arms to his hands, which she turned over several times and examined closely. "Truly remarkable..." she concluded, casting a glance at the wide-eyed original. "If not for the clothes, I wouldn't be able to tell you apart."

Wood got slowly to his feet and approached his doppelganger with a mixture of caution and awe. The physical act of seeing himself as if through another's eyes was too unsettling to warrant any description. Lost for words, he looked into his own eyes for a few terrifying moments before turning sharply back to Susie.

"Full marks!" he said, opting for irony because sincerity was just too strange. "Maybe it wasn't a fluke after all, you coming top of the year in final year Potions."

She smiled vaguely, but her eyes were soon drawn back to Ron. "How does it feel to have the body of someone else?" she asked.

"Not bad, actually. He's in much better shape than I am." The two Woods exchanged grins.

Then, before their eyes, Ron began to change again. For a moment, a red-headed, freckled Wood stood before them.

"That was quick," Ron commented as the last of his facial features eased into place.

"The larger the dose, the longer the effects will last." Susie was watching him closely with a mixture of suspicion and concern. "But do you feel ok? Are there any unexpected side effects?"

"None at all."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "And how many times have you used Polyjuice Potion before?"

Ron avoided her eyes, looking slightly sheepish. "Once or twice."

"I thought so." She tutted in a very prefect-like fashion. "You seemed to deal with it remarkably well. You might have mentioned that, Ron."

Wood looked intrigued. "When?"

"Well, there was this one time in second year..."

Around midday the next day, Susie and Wood – or someone who looked like Wood, at least – apparated into a snowy country lane. The first thing they noticed was the quiet: there was no nearby traffic here.

"You're in Yorkshire," she informed him, "North Yorkshire. I came here once on a school trip before Hogwarts. About half a mile further along this road, there's a little village where you can take your pick of pubs and B&B's."

The familiar features were written into a distinctly unfamiliar frown, and Susie was disappointingly reminded that, regardless of the potion-induced excitement, it didn't really matter where Ron went. It didn't matter whether she accompanied him, or who he looked like: his prospects looked equally unpromising, either way. Even if his ill-fated solitary search should be remotely successful, it would be of no use if he couldn't find Harry. It all seemed so difficult, she thought bitterly. If only there were something concrete to fight against, and something definite that they could do to help! She couldn't escape the feeling that Ron's brief stay with them had been more of a hindrance than anything.

"This is as good as anywhere," Ron said blandly. Apparently the same problems that were occupying her mind were troubling him.

"Would you like me to walk into the village with you?"

"If you like."

They set off through the snow at a not too urgent pace, in spite of the cold.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

He sighed deeply; his breath met the icy air with a flash of steam. "There's not much I can do. I suppose I'll just find somewhere to stay, lie low for a few days and get my thoughts in order."

"If there's anything I can do..." Her voice trailed off and the offer hung in the air for a moment. Ron didn't answer: they both knew there was nothing she could do.

They walked on without saying any more, each silently contemplating the future. Soon, the village's outlying cottages came into view, and they entered the sleepy streets of what had once been a bustling market town. On the high street, the owner of the largest inn was just opening his doors, and a warm yellow glow emanated from the steamed-up windows of the tea room opposite, framed by the twinkling of coloured Christmas lights. Susie smiled: with all the activity of the last few days, she'd almost forgotten that Christmas was coming.

"That'll do nicely," Ron decided, nodding towards the tea room. "Mum always says everything looks brighter after a cup of tea."

"Good idea." Susie nodded encouragingly. "I'll say goodbye to you here, then."

For the first time that morning, Ron returned her smile. "Thank you," he said. "For letting me stay, for the potion, for coming with me this far..."

"It's been a pleasure. I only wish we could have done more." There was a bitter note of disappointment in her voice that she could not hide.

"I know you weren't overly pleased to see me at first. Who could blame you? And I know that you've risked more than you're letting on by helping me, but I'll never forget this. One day, if I can, I'll return the favour."

Her eyes softened affectionately. "You don't have to return anything."

"But I will anyway." He held out a hand for her to shake, but she pulled him into a hug. He had awoken an almost maternal instinct in her: an instinct to protect him and to be kind to him.

"Good luck, Ron," she whispered into Wood's ear. "If ever you're in trouble, you know where to find us."

"Thanks, Susie."

Then, shooting her a last, grateful smile, he walked away. A bell jangled as he opened the tea room door. Susie simply stood there for a moment, still smiling, watching in vague amusement as the sudden entry of a good-looking young man sent the old woman behind the counter into a flurry of excitement. Wearing a small, thoughtful smile, she walked on along the high street, out of the village and into the snow covered countryside. The usually blustery moors were silent and still. When she was certain that she was alone, she disapparated.

The flat was surprisingly busy upon her return.

"Hey, Susie!" she heard before she had even closed the door behind her, recognising Bella's rich tones.

As she shook the snow off her boots, she took in the scene: Bella was balanced on the arm of a chair that held a typically serene Michael; Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson were squeezed on the sofa; Fred or George Weasley was leaning on the mantelpiece, grinning; and in the middle of it all stood Wood, looking rather pleased with himself.

"You've been busy," she commented, instantly cheered by the sight of so many friendly faces. "One more Weasley and a Potter and you'd have a half-decent quidditch team here. Not to mention a couple of brains to keep the score."

Michael flashed her a warm smile as her eyes came to rest on the pair from Ravenclaw.

"I thought I'd get a few people together," Wood explained while she tugged off her scarf and hung up her coat.

"We hear you've had another Gryffindor keeper staying with you," the former beater said casually, as if the event was nothing out of the ordinary.

Nodding, she knelt by Michael's chair with her back to the fire and rubbed her icy fingers together to warm them. "That's right... George?"

"Fred."

"Sorry."

"That's all right."

"Did you see him off?" Wood asked

All seven faces turned eagerly towards her. "I did," she answered. "He's deep in the country now. As we speak, he's sitting in a tea room, looking remarkably like the keeper he replaced and being flirted with by old ladies, I imagine."

"What's he going to do?" Angelina asked.

"I don't think even he knows that."

Susie's reply was met with an uncomfortable silence. Even Fred seemed unusually quiet, and she realised that she had never before seen one Weasley twin without the other. She wondered vaguely whether they had to be together for the jokes to flow.

"Would someone mind putting the kettle on?" she asked hesitantly. "My hands could do with warming up..."

"I'll get it," Bella said instantly, leaping to her feet. Without a word, Wood sat on the floor beside Susie and took her hands between his to warm them. She held his gaze for a moment, an affectionate smile tugging at her lips.

"So to what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you all?" she asked, looking around at the gathered friends.

"I spoke to Wood this morning," Katie began, "and then to Alicia, and we ran into Angelina, who brought Fred..."

"And I thought we'd need a few more cultured minds to stop it all descending into quidditch chat," Wood put in, "so I popped round to Michael's and Bella was already there."

She nodded. "So it was a string of remarkable coincidences?"

"A string of carefully engineered coincidences," said Michael, smiling knowingly, and Susie held his gaze fondly for a moment: it had been far too long since she'd seen him.

"Fred was just on the verge of sharing some big news when you got back," Wood said, and everyone turned expectantly to Fred – including Bella, from the kitchen.

"Basically," he said, "if anyone feels compelled to fight by certain recent events, I know how you can." He paused dramatically, and they leaned in closer with an air of conspirators. "Last time You Know Who was at large, Dumbledore formed a group to stand against him and his Death Eaters. It was called the Order of the Phoenix. It still exists today, even if it's not as strong as it once was. My parents are members. Me and George are members, and we're always recruiting. There's a group at Hogwarts too that some of you already know of: Dumbledore's Army. Potter started it in the same year as we left."

"Wait," Michael said, "you used the word 'army'. Is it really coming to that? Are we facing an actual battle?"

He had voiced what all of them were thinking.

"We don't know," Fred replied, "but there's a feeling within the Order that You Know Who will try to seize complete power, and that the only way to stop him will be by standing in the way with our wands in our hands."

Susie felt a surge of fear and excitement: it was stirring stuff.

"Is this a battle that we can win?" Alicia asked, understandably hesitant.

"Again, we don't know. A lot of our hopes are pinned on... on our seeker." Fred glanced at Wood. "Did you say that things aren't going well for him?"

Wood simply shook his head darkly.

"But it's encouraging to know that Dumbledore had a plan," Susie said brightly. "Even if it's not going well, that suggests that he knew of a way to defeat You Know Who, and that your seeker's at the heart of it. We have to buy him as much time as he needs to do what he has to do."

Angelina spoke up next. "And it doesn't matter how well or badly things are going – we have to put up a fight."

"Exactly," Susie agreed. "We can't just surrender everything we believe in without a struggle."

"Careful, Susie," Michael said. "You're starting to sound like a Gryffindor." Only he seemed to have retained his usual cool demeanour while the others had been growing increasingly animated.

"This isn't just about Gryffindor." They all looked over at Bella as she spoke, still busy with the tea. "Most ordinary witches and wizards might be quietly accepting things at the moment, but there is a limit to what a person can endure. They'll fight when they have to." She looked up almost defiantly. "They'll have to – and why wouldn't they? It's their world too."

A/N: Many, many thanks to all of you who have reviewed so far! It's always rewarding to read your comments, especially those that pick out things which could be improved. I couldn't make my mind up about this chapter, but finally decided to post it anyway. It would be interesting to see whether your opinions are in line with mine. As ever, thanks for reading!