Chapter Inspiration:

- Clocks ~ Coldplay

I smoothed my flowy, light green dress and stared at the girl staring back at me. Although her expression looked happy, her eyes were tired. I ran a hand through my hair and was confused why I was tired. I think the real question is, when am I not tired?

I huffed and walked slowly down the first staircase. Why on Earth did I choose such high heels? I caught the bannister as I almost fell down. A pair of eyes burned into my back, forcing me to turn around. Fred stood at the bottom, smirking at me. I glared at him and tried to walk again.

I was doing pretty well until the staircase in front of him. I tripped on the second to last step, awaiting the hard ground. I was surprised when two strong arms caught and steadied me. I bet Peter's arms are stronger. You did train him well for fifteen years.

My body instantly stiffened at the thoughts. Fred was giving me a strange, concerned look. "Are you alright?" I brightened up as best as my face could. "Yeah, brilliant. I should've chosen shorter heels." He chuckled and held the door open.

I took in the scene before me. The tent was long and spacious, filled with lots of guests. The actual marriage part was absolutely beautiful. I smiled at the memory of Mrs. Weasley's crying. It must be hard to watch your children grow up.

Fred waved a hand in front of my face. "I hope you don't space out on me all night." I shook my head, embarrassed. "Sorry Fred." His next sentence was cut off by the clapping coming from inside the party. I peeked my head in and watched as Bill and Fleur starting dancing. I smiled at the happy faces.

Fred sidled up to me, now holding two glasses of champagne. He offered me one, but I declined politely. "It was a good idea to do this. Get everyone's mind off everything." I commented quietly. He nodded. "I heard your brother tried to run away. What happened?"

I cringed. Fred tried to apologize, but I stopped him. "No, it's fine. He...he's a little anxious. He has a sort of job to do. He, Hermione, and Ron aren't going back to Hogwarts this year." I told him slowly. Fred looked at me in alarm. "Mum will kill him if he doesn't."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. This needs to be done. Or else—" I stopped. I close my eyes, trying to get rid of the terrible thoughts. Fred grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him. My eyes fluttered open quickly, watching him lead me somewhere. That somewhere was his room...

His back faced me as he shut the door. I wrung my hands as I watched him. "Fred—" He jerked around and gave me a serious look. "What's this dangerous mission my brother has to do?" I shook my head sadly. "I can't tell you Fred. I'm sorry. Dumbledore swore us to secrecy. I would be betraying him."

A frustrated and angry expression became his face. I didn't like it one bit. "But I need to know! Why aren't you going? Can't you protect them?!" He was yelling now. I crossed my arms to hide my shaking hands. "I tried. Harry wouldn't hear of it. I've accepted it now. Going would be selfish and I need to protect Eva. This year is going to be different Fred she needs protection." I told him calmly.

"YEAH? WHAT ABOUT MY BROTHER?!" he shouted. I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "I-I'm trying Fred. I'm sorry." I cursed myself as my voice cracked. Tears are a sign of weakness. Pull it together. Fred was now looking at me in alarm.

He sighed deeply and engulfed me in a hug. "I'm sorry." I said, his shirt muffling my speech. He rested his chin on top of my head and said fiercely, "You have nothing to be sorry about." As nice as this was, my chest couldn't help but ache. I wish Peter was the one holding me.

My heart ached even more as more thoughts like this came through my mind. Guilt of thinking these thoughts through a nice hug with Fred seeped through me as well. I pulled away and gave him a fake smile, taking us back to the party.

When I came back, I bid Fred goodbye and went over to Harry, who was walking somewhere. "Hey. Can I join you?" I asked quietly. He looked at me in surprise and led me through the crowd. We come to a table where a man sat by himself, sipping a glass of champagne. "Sir? May we sit down?" Harry asked. The man looked up in pleasant surprise.

"Mr. Potter! Miss Collins! By all means!" I studied the man with a smile and recognized him from today's issue of the Daily Prophet. We were sat in front of Elphias Dodge. He had written a very kind, inspirational piece about Dumbledore. Maybe Harry was looking for information from him. Clever.

"I found what you wrote in the Daily Prophet very moving, sir. I take it you knew Professor Dumbledore well?" Dodge chuckled with a dreamy smile. "I certainly knew him the longest, if you don't count his brother Aberforth—and somehow, people never do seem to count Aberforth."

Harry looked surprised. "I never even knew he had a brother, sir." I bit on my lip and thought for a moment. I'm pretty sure I once read about Aberforth. He had a younger sister too, Ariana, who died young. Had he ever mentioned either of them? Or his life really? I started to feel sick when I couldn't come up with any times or memories.

"Yes, well, Dumbledore was always very private. Even as a boy." That made sense. "Sir, I was wondering if you'd had much contact with him before he died." Harry told him. Elphias thought for a moment. "The occasional owl. Though it was strange…" I frowned. "Strange, sir?"

"It was the owls themselves. They often arrived in distress. It was clear they'd traveled great distances in some cases." He told us. My frown deepened. This makes no sense. For almost every year he had been at Hog—

I cut my own thoughts short. Last year he did do a lot of traveling...Harry's thoughts brought me back to the present. "Could you tell me from where they'd come, sir?" Dodge frowned. "I'm afraid not. Albus's messages mostly referenced our days together as schoolboys. They were surprisingly intimate. When he did speak of his current activities his words would turn elliptical. Still, I sensed he was under great stress. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. We were…close to Professor Dumbledore." Harry said quickly, ending with sadness in his tone. I gripped his hand and ran my thumb over his palm soothingly. Elphias offered us a wry smile. "Well, he treasured you two, I can attest to that. I can also tell you that when a person passes, it's only natural to rue the things left unsaid, to regret the question never asked. He will always remain a riddle even to me."

A woman at a table near us said, "Don't despair, Elphias. I'm told he's been thoroughly unriddled by Rita Skeeter. In 800 pages no less." My hand on Harry's gripped tighter. I remembered well that that little devil was going to write a book of lies about him. It was the cover story after all. "That woman is a vulture, Muriel, and you well know it." Elphias told her gruffly.

"I think vulture is putting it nicely. A monstrosity of evil fits her better." I added. Harry snickered under his breath. Muriel gave me a look before commenting, "Someone has to pick the bones to get at the truth. I read your obituary, Elphias. Lovely. But did you skate over some of the sticky patches in Dumbledore's life?"

Elphias looked deeply offended. "I'm sorry you think so, Muriel. I assure you I was writing from the heart." Mariel continued in her raspy voice, sounding eager, "Yes, well, Rita Skeeter hasn't made that mistake, I'm sure. Word has it someone talked to her, someone who knew the Dumbledore family well. You and I both know who that is, Elphias."

Dodge's face became tight with disappointment. "A monstrous betrayal. I can only conclude the rumors are true and that she has become untethered." "Who are you talking about?" I asked. "Well, I don't suppose it'll be a secret once the book comes out. Bathilda Bagshot." My face became surprised while Harry only looked confused. "Who?" "She's a historian. She's wrote Hogwarts: A History." I told him. Harry's face was filled with faux recognition. "Oh, right. Slipped my mind." I snorted quietly. Sure it did. "She knew the Dumbledores as well as anyone. She'd have letters, perhaps an interesting photograph or two. I'm sure Rita would have thought it well worth a trip to Godric's Hollow to take a peek into that old bird's rattled cage."

"Godric's Hollow? Bathilda Bagshot lives in Godric's Hollow?" It was only natural for Harry to be curious about his hometown. "For years now. That's where she first met Dumbledore." I furrowed my eyebrows. What? "Excuse me? You don't mean to say Dumbledore lived there too?"

Muriel nodded. "Of course. The family moved there after his father killed those three Muggles. It was quite the scandal." Both of our eyes widened. WHAT. "Honestly, are you sure you two knew him at all?" Harry and I sat there in silence, too shocked to say anything.

A sight in the corner of my eyes drew my attention. I squinted my eyes making out a shooting star? No, it was a Patronus. Harry and I stood as it floated in the center of the room. It took the form of a lynx. Kingsley's Patronus.

"The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming. They are coming. They are coming." As the lynx vanished, panic rose in me. I bolted through the place, leaving Harry, trying to find Eva. This is bad. This is bad. THIS IS BAD!

Chaos absorbed the room, screams of people echoing throughout the place. Dark forms flew through the room, making me speed up my pace. Death Eaters no doubt. I kicked one in the face and shot Stupefy at another.

My heart almost stopped at the sight of Eva a few feet away, fighting a Death Eater. I casted a spell at another and ran towards Eva, who had just finished off her's. I turned to see Harry screaming, "GINNY!" Lupin held him back and threw him to Ron and Hermione. "GO!" Lupin shouted.

As they disappeared. Harry and I shared a look. He smiled slightly at me and then he was gone. Tears threatened to fall as I continued to dispel our uninvited guests.