A/N: Hello there! I come to you with this chapter which was strangely very easy to write but also very HARD to write because it is the second-to-last... Next update will be the last and I am sad, as I am with every other story I write, because it'll be difficult to leave the Wizarding World again... But I won't be gone long I promise...
On this note, have you guys seen the new trailer for Fantastic Beasts? AWESOME! And it's our turn, fellow Hufflepuffs! We'll kick ass alongside Newton! :)
Disclaimer: I unfortunately don't own anything related to Harry Potter. I own, however, my OCs Alys and Emy Warren, and the plot.
12. Ninth year (part 2): Fugitives
Harry's "extraction", as some had started to call it, soon appeared not to have been as deathless as it seemed. Moody had died, struck right in the head by Voldemort's Killing Curse. Mundungus had Disapparated away, giving the senior Auror away.
That night was rather gloom, and when everyone went to bed, it was with a weight on their shoulders and a thought for the immoveable menace that had been Alastor Moody.
But life at the Burrows went back the way it had been a few days prior: planning Bill and Fleur's wedding. Molly was planning away, taking her mind off things like the gaping hole on the side of her son's head; Arthur, Ron and Harry were more often than not taking care of clearing the garden of all stray twig or gnomes.
The rest of the household, however, was back at work. Emy escorted Alys every morning and met with her every evening, her hand tucked in her pocket where lay her wand. The blonde was more alert than ever, and in those moments, Alys could see a warrior in her sister. It was puzzling but always sent a pang of pride in her chest.
When the 31st of July arose, Alys and Emy were equally tense and excited. It was, of course, Harry's coming of age, but not only. Their parents, Amanda and James, were coming for the wedding, as were Mr and Mrs Delacour, Fleur's parents, with little Gabrielle.
The house's balance was to be shaken, as it already sheltered huge Hagrid in the garden - his tent was the size of a house in itself. Gabrielle was to join the girls in Ginny's already crowded room - the twins would share a cot, which was inconvenient but okay, considering - and Amanda and James would take Ron's room at the top. He and Harry would camp for the night, with Fred and George.
Emy had been standing at the wooden fence or what seemed like hours when Alys joined her, her hand going to her sister's. "How was work?" the blonde asked. For once, Alys had been taken home by Arthur himself, Emy staying in Ottery St-Catchpole in case their parents arrived earlier than scheduled.
"Tense. As if it'd be any different," Alys sighed. "But enough bad thoughts, Ems. Today and tomorrow are good days." She smiled, her twin mirroring the look.
"Ollie is coming early to help with the tents and all." Alys smirked. Emy was still as in love with the handsome Scot as she had been at thirteen. It was endearing. She sometimes pictured her sister in a white dress as beautiful as Fleur's, and it was a warm thought.
They both fell into comfortable silence, hands entwined and staring at the horizon, until, just as the sun had started to set, the whirring of wheels on the path, accompanied by a cloud of dust, announced their parent's arrival.
The family car, that had crossed all of Ireland and a sea to come here, stopped at the gate, Amanda flying out to run towards her daughters, a worried look in her eyes. James stopped the motor and followed his wife, encompassing all three women with his slender arms.
"My girls..." he whispered, and he too was worried.
When the Delacours joined the party, Alys spent an awful long amount of time translating things to Gabrielle, who was eyeing Harry as if he was candy. It was tiring, especially since she wanted nothing more than to spend as much time as possible with her parents, but the atmosphere was light and it was easy to forget.
To everyone's surprise, Fleur's parents had even brought a present for Harry's birthday, and the boy, who had rarely had so many, was obviously touched. When James offered him, unsurprisingly, a History book - one about witches hunt and so on - Molly arrived with a wonderful cake shaped like a Golden Snitch...and a loud crack announced the arrival of two people in the orchard.
Molly and Arthur sprang to their feet when they recognized their third son, Percy, who had denied his family out of pride and stupidity, but Alys followed when she recognized the second person. "Minister," she breathed, and Rufus Scrimgeour met her eyes with a raise of a bushy brow.
"Miss Warren," he equally greeted before apologizing for intruding, and asking an audience with Harry, Hermione and Ron.
Everyone in attendance was silent as they watched the Minister for Magic escort the three teenagers inside. Percy was also silent, his ears dark with blush in the faint light cast upon the garden. His parents said nothing either, and Fred and George were glaring at him so hard it should have drilled a hole in his skull.
"So this is your boss, Als?" James asked as he still stared at the house where Scrimgeour had disappeared.
She shook her head. "Technically, yes, but officially, it's Mr Blair."
"He looks like an old cat..." he whispered, more to himself than anything. Amanda nudged him with her elbow, perhaps in fear that the Minister would hear, but Alys and Emy exchanged a look. James was their father, no doubt about that.
It took half-an-hour for the Minister for Magic to erupt from the house, obviously seething. He called Percy back, and the Weasley boy followed, thankful, apparently, to be taken away from this awkward situation.
When Harry and his friends came out too, no one asked. And the cake was delicious.
On the morning of the wedding, the Burrows was buzzing with life. Arthur and his sons, along with Harry, were raising the huge tent in the clean garden, while Molly and Apolline took care of the banners and balloons.
All the rest of the girls, really, were left to prepare.
Emy was sublime in a dark blue dress that was longer on the right than on the left. It stopped right above her knee on the shortest side, and showed her long legs. It had a thick strap on the left but none on the right. She had perfected the look with pink high heels that matched her lipstick, and her hair had been curled and pinned on top of her head.
Alys openly gaped at her sister, before their mother entered the room and started sobbing in emotion. Over both of them.
Okay, yes, she did look quite good too in her green lace dress. But she would always feel less beautiful than her sister, that was a fact. Plus she really was a mess when wearing high heels.
"Come along girls, I think your dates are waiting," Amanda said after she applied a fresh touch of makeup to replace her smudged one.
James was as ecstactic as his wife, and insisted for a photograph. Arthur took it, fascinated by the device. It was brand new, too.
But their look in the mirror was nothing compared to the glint in their dates' eyes when they got out in the sun.
Oliver was dashing as ever, but he was frozen, a stupid look on his face as he watched Emy sway towards him, smugly at that. He then laughed, and gently kissed her on the cheek. "Dun want ter share the lipstick, t'anks" he said.
But Alys only had eyes for Fred and his dark red waistcoat. And his current open mouth. George was silently laughing beside him, and she found herself blushing and unable to move. When he finally did come to her and offered his arm, she cursed. "It's too weird."
"Shut up," he whispered, "I've dreamt about this all my life."
And he was believing it so hard that Alys smiled, a true grin that made her forget anything that was happening on the other side of these picketed fences.
Their task as the guests started arriving was simple: steer them towards their seats inside the tent for the ceremony. Harry, who had been turned into a red-haired Muggle for the day - cousin Barny was his alias - was helping, as were Fred and George who took a sick pleasure in helping Fleur's Veela cousins. Alys, who was sitting with her family and Ollie, was rather displeased.
Fleur and Bill were quickly wed in a simple and touching ceremony that binded their hands in a ribbon of magic. Amanda and especially James were amazed by everything their saw, and when the tent turned into a dining area with a dance-floor, it took them a huge amount of will not to clap.
The sun slowly started to set, and the newlyweds took their first turn around the floor. Their parents followed, and then several couples, including Amanda and James who soon changed to twirl with Arthur and Molly, their faces illuminated by wide smiles.
"May I?" Oliver soon asked, and Emy followed her boyfriend who led her gently around the other couples.
"I would ask you to dance, but I know you hate it."
Alys turned to see Fred sitting next to her. Searching for the unavoidable presence of George, she was surprised to see him dancing with a blonde girl about his age who looked somehow like a siren. Deadly.
"Then what do you suggest?" she asked with a faint blush.
Fred chuckled, then offered her his hand. They exited the tent unseen, and he brought her to the fence, shaded by an apple tree.
And there, he simply kissed her. Just like that.
Kissing Fred was so easy it made Alys dizzy. And worried. So worried. "Fred, promise me something."
He was staring at her in a way he had never done, with a fire in his eyes that sent something strange to Alys' stomach. "Anything, Als."
"Promise me..." she started, voice shaking, "that you will not die." She paused at his surprised look - was it defiance or something else? - and carried on. "I could not live in a world where you are not..."
He leaned down slowly, kissed her softly on the lips, and said, as if it was the simplest thing to say, "I love you Alys Warren. I promise I won't be out of your air until we reach a century. Or even after that."
She chuckled in relief, tears prickling her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. "I'm sorry it took me so long, but I love you too, you silly orange."
He laughed, and they embraced again.
When Fred led her back to her seat, Alys watched the other couples dancing. Some were real-life couples, others were friends. Harry and a blonde girl Ginny had once introduced as her best friend Luna, were moving awkwardly but in a way that brought a smile to her lips. Hermione was being twirled around by a tall, dark-looking wizard with a small pointy beard, under the glare of one Ronald. Fleur was dancing with her sister. Bill was dancing with Emy. And Amanda was clutching Oliver like a life-line. Talking to him too, if her moving lips were any indication.
"I think she's planning a wedding," came her father's voice behind her, before he placed a glass of champagne in front of her.
Alys snorted. "I bet she has been since you met him."
"Oh yes," he answered, and they laughed together.
Alys was invited to dance by several people after that, and the few glasses she had drunk, coupled with her moment with Fred, had her light-headed enough to accept. She danced with Oliver, stepping on his toes enough for him to vouch he'd never ask her as bridesmaid - oh the liar - once with Fred - of course - and once with Remus.
The werewolf was glowing since his marriage to Tonks - who was having the time of her life dragging George around - and it was a pleasure to see him smiling.
She had just started dancing with Bill when something that would doom all the Wizarding World happened.
The lights were snuffed out as a white, slightly blue shape entered the tent. It looked like a giant cat. A lynx, Emy said as she suddenly appeared at Alys' side.
"The Ministry has fallen." A voice rose from the ethereal animal. It was Kingsley's voice. "The Minister is dead. They are coming." The last phrase echoed around the tent, and Alys turned to her sister, grabbing her arms hard as Ollie strode over to them.
"Take Mum and Dad. Now!" she shouted.
Emy nodded, knowing her sister was safe with their friends. Oliver followed her, and just as their hands locked on Amanda and James', hell broke loose.
Dark mists were flying everywhere, curses and spells erupting from and towards them, and a man standing just next to Alys fell, eyes opened but unseeing.
"Death Eaters!" someone shouted, and people started Disapparating before the Order's members started fighting back.
"Fred, take Alys out of here!" shouted Arthur, and an arm closed around her waist a second before a whizz of white light flew past her.
Disapparating had never been agreeable, but in this precise moment, Alys loved it.
When the sensation of the rubber band snapped and freed her, she took a deep breath, doubling over as if she was going to vomit. Fred's arm was still around her, and she suddenly realised it was his bad one. The other hand was no doubt squeezed around his wand.
When she was able to stand again, Alys looked around, wondering where he had taken her.
She started when she realised she was staring at her old home. In Poole. "Fred, it's not safe here!"
She turned to face him, and he was alert, eyes dancing along the darkened street. "It's the first thing that popped into my mind."
She gently untangled herself from him, and she felt tears flow down her cheeks. "What do we do now?"
He met her eyes, and he was strong. Stronger than ever. "Now, Alys, we kill him and be done with it."
A/N: Dramaaaaaa! Next chapter will address something that I lacked in the novel: what the heck have the Weasleys been doing during the Golden Trio's run? Well, I'll be building something around that, and things will get tense in Downing Street...and in Hogwarts. The final Battle is upon us. *prays Fred makes it*