Part 3 - Winter

Chapter 24 – Home Is Where the Heart Is

The town was called Dragesti, though it could hardly be called a town. The house was called Azil, "Asylum" Ez had explained, but she hadn't made the distinction between a place of safe harbor or a mental ward, and the unease Harry felt walking into the rough, dark house and Ez's state had him considering the latter rather than the former. The moment they arrived in Romania by Portkey, she began to tremble.

The tall, slender woman was called Magda. She had black hair, small eyes, red cheeks with high, prominent cheekbones, and a deep, hoarse voice. She cried when she saw Ez, and when they embraced the witch touched Ez's short, tangled hair. They spoke Romanian to each other in a fast clip that stumbled over Ez's stutter and a few English words like England and Death Eater, and Charlie.

The wizard, also tall, but thick as a barrel around the middle, was called Tibor. He touched Ez's hair, and seemed just as happy to see her as his wife was, but disturbed by what he saw. Harry realized, seeing Ez for a moment through their eyes, how very different she looked from the witch who crashed Bill's wedding. Now she was thinner, paler, and her hair was a short mass of uneven dark frizz and waves and tangles. She wore no make-up now, which always made her look fragile, and her hands shook even when she clasped them together. But it was the dark circles under her eyes that aged her, and the struggle she had with her words - and now a simple touch - that spoke volumes about what she'd been through in the past few months. She looked feral.

Harry wondered if she told them she was pregnant. Her robes hid her belly well enough, if she was showing yet at all.

Ez pulled away from Magda when the older woman began wildly gesturing out through the kitchen.

"Aici?" Ez asked, breathless. She looked stunned.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

"He's…here," she whispered. "C-c-c-can it be? Would he b-b-b-b-b-be s-s-s-s-so…"

Without finishing the thought she hurried toward the back door. Harry followed, as did everyone else.

They were in the craggy, tree-covered mountains in the north of the country, and the wind was piercingly crisp, even through Harry's cloak and robes. The dim, grey light from the overcast day left everything a lifeless monochrome. Out the back of the house was a small, dead garden. A path that led over the side of the mountain. The path turned into step concrete steps that crumbled in places where there were no handrails. Harry took them at a quarter of the speed Ez was able to manage. The valley below was narrow and snow-covered. The trees were skeletal.

After several switchbacks the steps leveled out into a brick-paved walkway that led to a small cottage tucked between two ancient oak trees. Now, covered in snow, from above it would blend in with the ground, but in the spring and summer when the trees were thick with leaves, the cottage would be practically invisible to anyone looking across the valley for it. And still, it was beautiful in a rough, rustic sort of way. Quiet and battered, but lovely for it. It was exactly the sort of place Harry might expect Ez to live.

There were no lights in the small, squat windows, and no smoke came from the chimney. Ez hesitated at the door before she opened it, but only for a moment. By the time Harry and the rest of them caught up, she had already disappeared into the darkness inside. The small house was cold. Hermione lit a few of the lamps when they entered.

Ez stood still and stunned. Charlie was there as promised, passed out across the large bed in the tiny back room. He was still in his flannels with nothing more than a wool blanket thrown over him. The scars on his back and arms were shiny against his goose flesh. Harry stepped back as she turned to lean against the doorjamb. She breathed an enormous sigh, her eyes watered, and she closed them to keep her emotions in check. Harry knew that feeling of relief – he felt a little of it himself.

"He's there, then?" Percy asked, the last to file in. "Well, that was easy."

The main room had a tiny kitchen, a round table with two chairs, and an over-stuffed, well-worn, red couch that faced a barrel-shaped fireplace in one corner. There were keep-sakes cluttering the walls, and books and framed photos and the usual knickknacks that collected in a home over time.

"Good, then," Percy said crisply, and he smoothed the front of his robes, obviously relieved himself. "Collect him. Let's go home."

Ez blinked at him for a moment, and Harry knew just what she was thinking, even without touching her mind. She was home.

"Charlie!" Percy called.

"N-n-n-n-n-n…" Ez began to protest, and then fell silent as Charlie's moan filtered in from the bedroom. The sound of a bed creaking followed, and then another moan. Ez glared at Percy and motioned wildly for him to remain silent.

He shrugged and gave her a what-do-want-from-me look. "What are we waiting for?"

Then Charlie was there, standing in the door, looking sick and just as shocked as Ez had been. The hand he pressed against the jamb to steady himself slipped and he pitched forward into Ez's arms. He didn't move, didn't breathe as she held him, and neither did she.

"I'll just get the Portkey return time moved up, and we'll be going, then," Percy said as if everyone in the room wasn't looking at Charlie and Ez, holding their breaths, waiting for hell to break loose. "We'll be home for tea."

"You're…here?" Charlie muttered, still not believing it. He ripped his gaze from her and surveyed the rest of them. His eyes landed on Percy. "You brought her here? Here? Why would you do that?"

"Her idea, I can assure you," Percy told him crisply. "Ez seems to think you taking on the Wizmere family single-handed might get you killed."

Charlie's face went long, as he considered his brother. "Where did you find her? How did you find her? Take her back to the Burrow," he said, his arms going tighter around her. "She'll be safer at the Burrow."

"I'm r-r-r-right here, Ch-ch-ch-charlie. T-t-t-t-t-t-talk-k t-t-to me."

He exploded, jerked away from her. His face went red, his jaw popped. "What the hell is wrong with you? How could you leave like that? It's Christmas! Christmas! I should've known, though, shouldn't I? I should be used to your last fuck good-bye by now. The getting me pissed, though, that was a new twist. Nice, that. Think I'd sleep until New Years, did you? Where did you go? How could you leave? It's Christmas!"

"There will be time for a row once we're back in England," Percy began, but Charlie roared at him.

"How dare you bring her here!"

"It's m-m-m-me you're ang-g-g-g-gry at, you br-r-r-r-rute," Ez snapped, and she gave Charlie a shove. "Leave him-m-m-m-m alone!"

He grabbed her arm and jerked her to him, and they fell into an intense embrace. He cradled her head against his shoulder, and his expression crumbled into grief in the crook of her neck. "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to run to where it's safe."

"F-f-f-f-f-f-fucking hyp-p-pppocrit!"

He silenced her mouth with his. The kiss was angry, hungry, and when she moaned, Harry had to look away. Ron was suddenly interested in the small, framed photographs near the couch, and he studied them with red ears. Percy crossed his arms and turned stiffly away. Hermione smirked, and raised her brows at Harry. He knew exactly what she was thinking. They'd managed to bring the lovers back together again. Girls were forever thinking about romance.

A wet smack ended the kiss. Charlie pressed his forehead against Ez's. "Percy," he said breathlessly. "Take her back to the Burrow. Let Mum fuss over her."

"N-n-n-no!" Ez pushed herself out of his arms, eyes blazing. "I will n-n-n-n-n-not b-b-b-be-"

Charlie pointed a finger at her. "You will go back to the Burrow, and when term starts you'll return to Hogwarts!"

"I w-w-w-w-w-will n-n-n-n-"

"And," he continued, "you will not disappear again! Do you see what you've risked?" He held out a hand to Ron and Hermione and Harry. "You're part of my family now, whether you like it or not. They can't not help you, Mere. It's who we are."

"Right," Percy said, as if that settled the matter. "No more bolting. Let's go home." He gestured toward the door. No one moved. His gaze fell heavily on his brother, and he lifted his brows in pompous authority. "Charlie? After you."

"I can't," Charlie began, and Ez opened her mouth to protest. He touched her lips. "I can't. Hermione was right. I have to make the world safe for our child, Mere. I can't leave things like they are any longer."

"It's n-n-n-n-n…you can't. N-n-n-n-n-not on your own. Remem-m-m-m-m-m-mber T-t-t-t-t-t-târgu M-m-m-m-m-mureş? St-t-t-t-t-tandau's too well p-p-protected. You c-c-c-c-can't reach him th-th-th-th-"

"I'm not going to Târgu Mureş." Charlie told her. "I'm going to Poenari."

Ez's jaw dropped open. "Oh…fuck-k-k, n-no. Ch-ch-ch…p-p-p-p…d-d-d…"

He tried to give her a confident smile. It fell short. "It'll be all right. I have a plan."

She shook her head, and tears pooled in her eyes. She looked terrified, and she turned to Percy for help. "P-p-p-p-poenari…"

"Mere," Charlie cooed, and he smoothed the hair back from her temple. "Take Ron back to my mum. They shouldn't be here. None of you should be here."

She shook her head, no longer listening. Tears spilled over her lashes. "Ch-ch-ch-ch… vă rog-g-g-g…"

"I love you," he whispered.

"Marry me." Those two words were clear as crystal.

Charlie's face darkened. "What? I'm not trying to-"

"B-b-b-b-b-bond with m-m-m-m…"

"It won't change what I have to do," Charlie told her. "Stop, Mere. Get out of my head. That's not fair…bloody…bloody hell." He closed his eyes, and Harry knew he was bracing himself against her mental onslaught. He recognized the expression of pleasure and grief. "Of course I'll Bond with you. After-"

"Here." She glanced at the bedroom. "N-n-n-now."

"After I stop Lazarius."

She shook her head, took his hands, pulled him close. "B-bond w-w-with m-m-m-m-"

"Mere," he whispered, and his eyes closed and so did hers. They weren't touching now, but Harry got the distinct feeling that neither of them knew it. "Go back to the Burrow. Please." He closed his eyes again and swallowed hard. "No…no…you can't kiss me like that…bloody…I can't fight you…this…I'm not strong enough."

She lunged at him, crushed her mouth against his. Her fingers ran through his hair. He held her, and drew her even closer. Charlie whimpered, he broke the kiss.

"You would risk our baby? Mere? Would you risk losing another one?"

"I'd d-d-d-d-do anything f-f-for you," she breathed. She slipped out of his arms, and clasped his hand. She began to draw him into the other room. "B-b-bond with me. M-m-marry m-m-me. I l-l-l-l-love you. N-n-n-n-n-no P-poenari."

"I'm still going," he muttered. "Even if we do this, Mere, I'm going to go. To Poenari. I mean it." He was still protesting when the door slammed shut behind them. There was a thud, as if bodies were thrown against the door, and then a male moan as Charlie surrendered to pleasure. Blue magic shimmered. Impervius.

"Ah…Nagini, my pet. Come closer…"

"Master, please." Pleading, groveling, sniveling. "Forgive…"

"I do not forgive, Wormtail. And I do not forget. Nagini, show this pathetic coward what happens when I am failed."

"Wait! Master, please! I can find the locket. I can! Regulus Black had it, I'm certain. There was no one else! If it's not in the Black Mansion-"

"You know that it's not, Wormtail. You have been inside that place yourself."

"Yes, Master. I searched it quite thoroughly. As I did Targa Merez."

"Targa Merez. You said it would be there, and I said that Lazarius would not betray me. I was correct."

"As you always are, Master. But there is a third possible hiding place – and not far. Not far at all! Peonari-"

Harry pushed him out of his head. The effort was like trying to knock a hippogriff over, but Harry managed it. Voldemort was gone from his mind, and in his place was a splitting headache.

"No, bring him here!" Hermione's frantic voice. "Put him on the couch, Ron! Where are you going?"

"Couch. Right."

There were hands on him, lifting him, pulling him in two directions. Nausea rolled through Harry's stomach, and he tried to push one of the arms away before he retched, but he wasn't certain he was at all successful.

"Bloody hell!"

Harry's head swam even after he was dumped on to a leather cushion. He tried to breathe through it. "I'm going to be sick."

"Again?"

"Accio rubbish bin!" Again, Hermione's confident voice. Harry found it comforting. "Here." He lifted his hand to the lip of the bin and vomited.

"Voldemort, was it?" Ron asked. He sounded close - he was probably kneeling, but Harry couldn't bring himself to open his eyes to look. His head would explode, he would burst into flames, he was so hot. "Water?"

"Is he going to be all right?" Percy's voice. He sounded annoyed.

"Dunno," Ron said.

"I…pushed him out. By myself." Harry wanted to explain what a feat that was, but the words were beyond him.

"Here, Harry. Drink slowly." A glass was brought to his lips, and her cool hand held his face steady as she helped him sip.

A blinding, white-hot pain sliced his head in half. Harry was falling.

Ah…so it is you. Listening in on my conversations, were you, Potter? Miss me that much, did you?

The laughter was terrible; it shook him to the core. Harry tried and tried to form a Fist, but he couldn't seem to find all five fingers.

Tell me where you are, Potter, and I'll come for you myself. What? No reply? I know you're there, I can feel your terror. You're weak, Harry. And I am strong.

He managed the Fist, but it didn't make contact. Harry sung high and low, and finally found Voldemort right in front of him. Slanted red eyes burned into his brain.

And what have we…ah, Ginny Weasley. My, my. She's turned into such a pretty little…do bring her along, won't you?

Get out of my head!

The Fist was pathetically ineffectual the second time around. Harry had no strength at all.

I know what you're looking for, Harry, but you won't find them. I have two. Re-collected, if you will. It was careless of me to leave them lying about. I will not make that same mistake again. Now…what have we here?

Harry felt a memory lift, open, unveil.

So, then, the Red lives. Wormtail will know my displeasure. And even as he thought that, Harry could feel his excitement grow – or was that Voldemort's excitement? It was a perverse, black thrill that felt vaguely sexual. What shall I cut off this time?

Get out of my head!

You're weak, Harry. Do you really think you can best me? Because you know, in the end, you won't have your little friends to help you. In the end it will be you and me. And you haven't got a chance.

He said, 'GET OUT OF HIS HEAD!'

Suddenly Ez was there, and Voldemort was gone, and Harry was on the floor trying to retch but there was nothing left in his aching stomach. His belly cramped, nausea made him shake. The pain in his head was blinding. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, until cool hands lifted his head.

"Harry, look at me." Ron's voice. Harry obeyed and saw his best mate studying him. "No, they're his eyes. Green like always."

"Is there any Firewhiskey?" Ez asked. She was hunched over in the leather arm chair.

"In the cupboard. There should be, yeah." Charlie left Ez's side and limped over to the small kitchen area, and began rummaging.

"He was attacked twice," Hermione quickly reported. "Back to back. It's never been like that before. Has it Harry? I don't think it has."

"Twice? You did it, then. Good for you." Ez gave him a small smile. She was exhausted, too.

"Only the first time," Harry said. His mouth tasted foul.

"Yeah, well, he's one powerful son of a bitch. Drink the Firewhiskey, Harry. If he comes back again I won't be able to help for a while, either."

Charlie handed Harry a glass, and Harry choked the contents down. A Cleaning Spell was cast - he could feel the tell-tale tingles. His body began to relax, his headache backed off after the second drink, and Harry was able to sit up and crawl on to the couch with minimal help from Ron.

It was then that he realized that Ez was wrapped in a blanket, and Charlie had his jeans on, but not buttoned up. They'd come to his aid in a hurry. "Sorry I interrupted," Harry told them. "Everything…you know, all right?"

Ez smirked. Charlie went red. Percy looked uncomfortable. "Need a bit of air," he said gruffly, and stalked out of the cottage. Ez watched after him for a moment, and then went back into the bedroom. Charlie followed, and closed the door.

Ron leaned close to Harry. "So…did you see anything?" Hermione knelt down on Harry's other side to fuss with the blanket she laid over him.

"Loads. And I think I might know where the locket is," Harry told them. "Wormtail said it was in the same place that Charlie was threatening to go. The place that made Ez go mental enough to Bond with him. They did Bond, didn't they? I didn't interrupt too soon, did I?"

"I interrupted," Hermione said, smugly. "And no. I think they…you know. At least, that's what it looked like."

Ron made a face. "Lovely. Couldn't have been attacked by the darkest wizard ever a little sooner, could you?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to make a face.

"Seriously, though," Ron said, turning his attention back to Harry. "You know where the locket is? The RAB locket?"

"Maybe. I know where Wormtail thinks it is."

"We're going in, then?" asked Ron, but he needn't have. They all knew if there was a chance a Horcrux was nearby, they'd go after it.

"But there's something else. Wormtail's been in Headquarters."

"In Headquarters? Harry, but that's not possible. It's unchartable. He couldn't possibly-"

"He's been there looking for the locket," Harry assured.

"First St. Mungo's, then Hogsmeade, and now Headquarters. Did they say anything about Hogwarts?" Ron asked. "Is Hogwarts still safe?"

Harry shrugged and shook his head, and woke the dizziness again. "I need to kip here for a bit." He drained the rest of his glass, and then poured another just to be safe. Then, they left him to rest.

"Spot of tea?"

"Mmm. Thanks, mate."

The voices woke Harry up, though it took a moment for him to realize that he was awake and not dreaming. His body was still heavy from the Firewhiskey, and his mind still muddled. Was it muddled enough? He eyed the glass on the table above his feet. From his position on the couch he'd have to sit up to get it. Too much effort, he decided. He didn't need it.

"Milk?"

"Yeah. Cheers."

Charlie and Percy. They were in the small kitchen. Ron and Hermione were on the floor below Harry, curled together under a blanket. They snored in time with each other.

"So…congratulations, then. I suppose there will be another wedding at the Burrow." Percy didn't sound pleased.

"If I can drag her down the aisle, yeah. If not…well, at least we're Bonded. She's my wīf and I'm her hsbnda. Ancient Magic still constitutes a legal marriage."

"That's archaic rubbish. There aren't even any modern English words for it. Mum will want to see you properly married."

"Yeah, well, Mum can't always have what she wants. She's going to get a grandchild out of it. That should be enough."

There was a snort. "Are you coming back to England, then?"

"Not…right away. No."

"Even now that you're Bonded? You'd risk her? And your baby? For what? Revenge?"

"They're already at risk."

"Not like they would be running into the heat of battle."

"She'll stay out of it-"

"Ha! We're talking about Esmerelda Wizmere, here! You know she can't stay out of anything."

"Keep it down."

"Charlie, you need to come back to England. Bring Ez and Ron and the rest back, and lie low, at least for a while. You know she won't go back without you. It's the smart thing to do. It's the responsible thing to do."

"I know you have trouble believing it, Percy, but you're not the only person who can dictate what constitutes responsible."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because I don't have a boring office job, or I don't own my own house in the south of France doesn't mean I'm not responsible. Everything I do, I do for someone else. I'm the Order's bloody Secret Keeper, for Merlin's sake! Dumbledore thought me-"

"Right. Your precious Order. And where are they now?" There was resentment in Percy's tone. "And…and I never said you were irresponsible-"

"You said it all the time-"

"That was years ago! And you were! You and Bill never took responsibility for anything! And you got away with it!"

"Oh, bloody – not the ghoul again! I was nine!"

"Yes, you were nine then and now you're – what? Twenty-five?"

"I've just had a birthday, thanks. I'm twenty-six now."

"And still chasing danger."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Charlie grumbled.

"Don't I? You want to storm some fortress to hunt down Ez's grandfather. Yeah, I know about Peonari, and I know about Lazarius-"

"Of course you do. You research all your lovers, don't you? You always did invent homework when you didn't feel you were challenged enough." The growl in Charlie's voice was so threatening that Harry felt a chill go through him. Where was his wand? Harry found it by the rolled up shirt he was using as a pillow.

"Don't say it like that," Percy quietly, self-consciously complained. "It wasn't like that."

"No?" Charlie didn't sound as if he believed him. "You didn't fuck my wīf?"

"Your vulgarity doesn't shock me."

"And neither does your self-righteous pompousness."

"You mistake pompousness for concern."

Charlie guffawed. "You don't think yourself superior to everyone in every way?"

"Hardly," Percy snapped. "You have always thought the worst of me."

"Yeah, I do. Come to think of it, why are you here?"

"To stop you from doing something completely irresponsible you arrogant bugger! Ez was terrified-"

"Well, she's good now," Charlie preened. "So, toddle off."

"You don't get it, do you? It's amazing how thick you can be. She was desperate to find you, Charlie. Beyond desperate. She collapsed. And you and I both know that Ez is not some wilting flower. She does not just collapse. But now she's a bloody mess, isn't she? She's not sleeping, not eating – and she should be gaining weight, shouldn't she? And that stutter-"

"I'm familiar with her current state, thanks," Charlie flatly said.

"And now you're going to go off and kill her family? And force her to go with you? To kill them with you? Now that you're Bonded, it's not as if you can leave her behind, is it?"

Charlie snorted. "In all of your extensive research into the family Wizmere, did you happen to read up on one of her illustrious 15th century ancestors called Vlad Drăculea? Drăculea…it means his father was part of the Order of the Dragon – the Drăculeşti – so Vlad became a Drăculea, a son of the Dragon. But unlike his knightly father who followed St. George – England's patron saint, by the way - Vlad was a twisted bloke. He liked to impale his enemies up on big pointy sticks and leave them out in the sun to bake. The vampire stuff came later."

There was the soothing sound of liquid pouring, and a tinkle of spoon on cup.

"Vlad Drăculea – they call him Vlad Ţepeş here, it means Vlad the Impaler – he was a madman. Even today the Romanian word Dracul, which used to mean dragon, means devil. But not a figurative, intangible devil. Dracul means the physical manifestation of the devil on earth. He was a real, bloody bloke, and he dripped pure evil. It's been six hundred years and people here – Muggle and magical alike - are still afraid of him. And Mere's cousin, Standau, he takes after his ancestor like a shadow."

"So, he's a bad wizard. He's not the only one in the world," Percy insisted. "You're not going after the rest of them!"

"Because they're not capturing and raping and torturing my wīf! Yeah, Ez stutters! Yes, she's a bloody mess! It's amazing that she's been functioning at all, after what that bastard did to her! I won't let him hurt her again! I have to take care of this. I should've done long ago."

"So, protect her, then. Take her back to England and hide her away. Or Canada. Or wherever. Just get her away. Don't force her into a fight neither one of you can win. She can't take this, Charlie. You know she can't."

Charlie snorted. "We're still talking about Esmerelda Wizmere, here, yeah? You know her. I couldn't hider her away any more than I could…" There was a pause where Harry imagined Percy gave his brother an odd look, because Charlie then asked, "How long were you with her?"

Another pause. "Nine months. Give or take."

Then, there was an odd sound, like the air being let slowly out of a balloon as this new bit of information was processed. "So, you do know, then." Charlie cleared his throat, swallowed loudly. "Bloody hell."

"Look, Charlie-"

"I can't leave, Percy. I can't. We're blood traitors, you and I, and we wear that like a badge of honor because we can. In England, Blood purists wouldn't dare touch us, at least not in public, but here…things are different. Her family is in control, and they take Blood very seriously. Muggle borns aren't taught in Romania, not because they're banned from school, but because they don't make it to their eleventh birthdays. Mixed bloods almost never happen because people are terrified to even associate with Muggles. And Mere is carrying a child fathered by a Blood Traitor, and will be born to a Blood Traitor. He will be, in the Wizmeres' eyes, the equivalent of a Muggle born, only worse, because genetically he's one of their own. They will hunt him down no matter where I hide him, just like they'll hunt Mere, and me. And, just like Hermione said, I will connect them to Mum and Dad, and then to Ron and Ginny and Fred and George, and Bill and his family, and to you and Penny. They will come, Percy. And none of us will be safe. I've brought this on our family, and I accept the responsibility. I will end the threat here, one way or the other."

"But…but you Bonded with her!" Percy cried, taken aback. "If you really mean to…how could you? How could you Bond with her knowing what you're going to do? If you die, Charlie-"

"I know."

"It's madness! Are you that certain you will succeed?"

There was the sound of sipping, and the tap of a cup placed on a wood table. "No…no, I'm that certain that I won't."