After dinner and dessert, Molly invites the Old Ones to spend the night. Alex Raven says "I can't impose on you. I've got a bedroll on my bike."
"Nonsense, we have plenty of beds. All of our sons are away."
Ceirdwyn says "That is very kind, but I've got…" A scolding look from Molly stops the two-thousand-year-old warrior cold. "Thank you." Ginny beams a huge smile. "At least let me help you clear…" Molly smiles and with a wave of her wand, the plates fly in formation to the kitchen sink where they are washed. "…or not." Ginny giggles and Alex winks at her. While they share amusement in Molly not having any use for help, Alex also knows that Ceirdwyn was blocked from what she really wanted which was to talk to Molly privately.
Alex says "Perhaps Ginny would like to go for a night bike ride?" Ginny's eyes open wide and she looks eagerly at her parents. Arthur and Molly look concerned.
"Not without a helmet, eye protection, and leathers." Ceirdwyn cautions.
"Do you think I'll dump it?" Alex counters with characteristic confidence.
"Not on purpose…" Ceirdwyn responds.
"She can wear mine." Alex says.
"Only if her parents agree."
Molly and Arthur are still concerned for Ginny's safety.
"So, Arty, how about you go first to check it out?" Alex asks. Arthur is nervous but is not about to let a chance to ride with a muggle pass. He nods.
Before Arthur has time to think about it he has his head in a helmet and is being stuffed into Alex's leather jacket which is too small for him. He's escorted outside. Alex starts the big twin and uses her thumb to direct Arthur to sit behind her as she retracts the kickstand.
Ceirdwyn helps Arthur to put his feet on the rear pegs. Ginny is bouncing on one foot and then the other in excitement. "Put your arms around her and hold on tight. Lean with her." Ceirdwyn instructs. Arthur nods nervously, his mouth too dry to answer.
Molly nervously watches Alex ride the motorcycle down the driveway. The lights move down the road.
Arthur is jostled around as the bike moves down the gravel road. When they get to a paved road, Alex calls back "Hold on! I'm going to drop the hammer!"
Arthur is confused. "You dropped a hammer?"
There is no response except acceleration. As their speed stabilizes, Arthur begins to enjoy the ride looking over Alex's shoulder.
As Amanda and Michelle get their things from their car and Ginny watches for her father's return, Ceirdwyn gets a moment alone with Molly. "Long before I was born, society was different. Men hunted and they were gone for long periods. Women were in charge of the camp. When the men returned, women decided if they were worthy to… be with… So, women had… what the men wanted and they had to obey the women while they were in camp. The female moon rather than the male sun was worshiped. When people started planting crops and raising animals, knowing the seasons became more important and they paid more attention to the sun. Eventually they set stones to track it."
Molly nods.
"There are still a few who follow the old ways… Alex and I sometimes join them…at Wistman's Wood… "
Molly senses something is coming.
"They are mortal muggless and practice their beliefs in secret to avoid being accused of being…witches."
Molly's feeling grows stronger.
"We… I was thinking that maybe you would let us take Ginny…"
The prosecutor arrives to find out why he's received nothing about the headless burned corpse. The lead detective looks at him in surprise. "No one told you?" The prosecutor shakes his head in confusion. "The Yard called and sent over some guys… they took everything."
"The body?"
The detective nods.
"The head?"
The detective nods.
"The photos"
The detective nods.
The prosecutor slumps. "And you let them…?"
The detective nods. "They had the right credentials. The man said an international agency had taken jurisdiction."
"Did he say which one?"
"No."
The prosecutor is exasperated. The nature of this case has made it high profile and a successful prosecution would add to his reputation and advance his career. He gets what information he can, including a copy of the receipt for the evidence and leaves.
As Alex and Arthur idle up the gravel road, Alex spots something she'd missed on their way out. There are tire tracks headed up into a field not far from the Burrow. The grass is pushed down going away from the road, but there are no tracks coming back out. Alex turns off to follow them which takes Arthur by surprise. "That's the wrong turn" he cautions.
"Somebody drove in here recently. Those tracks weren't here this afternoon. They didn't come back this way." This gets Arthur's attention. The Borrow is located on the outskirts of a muggle town with several other wizarding families not very far away.
They arrive at a car stashed not far from the road behind some bushes. There is nobody with the car, but there is some indication that someone has continued on foot. Alex shuts the bike off and it takes a moment for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. "Someone walked that way" Alex whispers and points. Arthur nods.
Alex reaches under her jacket being worn by Arthur and retrieves her sword. Arthur holds up a finger and then retrieves his wand. "Muffliato" he says to Alex's confusion. Arthur explains "That will prevent us from being overheard." Arthur points his wand at the car. "Evanesco" The car disappears. He points to the bike. "Evanesco" The bike disappears. Alex looks at him angrily. "They are still there, just invisible."
"Very handy" Alex admits. She begins to stalk down the trail left by whomever left the car.
Arthur puts his hand on Alex's sword arm. "When we find whoever is in there. I have…less … harmful ways…" Alex nods.
"I'm sure I lost my watcher and that isn't her car. Amanda's has been…decommissioned… They probably don't know about Michelle. So, whoever is up there is either trailing Ceirdwyn, is taking a leak, or is studying your family."
"Decommissioned?"
"Yeah. Amanda, on a bridge, with a shotgun."
"She murdered him?"
"Well, as I heard it, he was trying to kill several immortals including her. He tried to kill her in her sleep first, and she killed him in a fight. She's a thief, not a killer…" Alex explains without providing Arthur with a warm and fuzzy feeling about Amanda. In fact, she reinforced what Wizards think of Old Ones.Her next words cause ice water to metaphorically trickle down Arthur's spine "…like me."
Arthur looks at her in horror. She looks away so he won't see her grin. and says "Well not at the moment, seeing as how I have you and your 'less harmful' ways." Still looking away, she indulges herself with a silent laugh.
"The problem is that we don't want a Watcher to report that there is anything odd going on at your home. We also don't want them to disappear and have another one sent to investigate" Alex cautions. "And when we get back, Arty, you and I are going to have a long serious talk…"
Alex Raven motions for Arthur to remain and stalks ahead far enough to see Debra rubbing her ears and working her jaw. She realizes that she and Arthur were not silenced but Debra's hearing was blocked. She goes back to Arthur.
"She is having her hearing blocked. It isn't that she can't hear us, she can't hear anything. She'll know something is going on."
"The spell makes a sound like mosquitoes in their ears."
Alex shakes her head. "Make her car and my bike visible, stop interfering with her hearing, and walk home."
"What are you going to do?"
Ron pictures himself in a gingerbread house getting fatter. An old muggle woman pokes at him and deems him to be fat enough. He is shoved into a large oven which begins to get hot. It makes him queasy. "Where do they get such ideas?" He mutters to himself.
"Not all witches were bad in muggle stories." Hermione lectures. "There was Glinda, the Good Witch of the North, in "The Wizard of Oz" who was the most powerful witch in the realm. She traveled in a magic bubble and even the Wicked Witch of the West had to respect her. The muggle in the story, Dorothy, didn't believe she was a witch because she was beautiful…" Hermione sees Ron eying her. "Well, anyway, the Munchkins celebrated and sang songs to Dorothy. I used to love that part…before I learned I'm a witch. There were Samantha Stevens and her daughter Tabitha. They cast spells by wiggling their noses."
"Where do you suppose she went?" Neville asks as the two lay on their sides facing away from each other with their legs drawn up.
"How would I know?" Harry responds.
"When do you think she'll be back?"
"How would I know?"
"Do you think she'll really help us?"
"I don't know."
"Will she let us go tomorrow?"
"I think if she doesn't, there is nothing that will stop Professor McGonagall from coming for us."
"What about Snape?"
"I don't think he could stop her."
"I mean, would he come."
"Eventually, to collect our bleached bones for some potion."
"Really?" Neville panics.
"I don't know." Harry snarls.
They would both be shocked to know that Cassandra has crept close to the shelter conjured by the two professors. They have created a fire for warmth and light. But it has rendered the area outside alien and dark. They don't see the immortal who accepts the darkness for it renders her invisible. She wears it like a cloak. They don't hear her moving closer carefully placing each foot and moving only when they speak. Their comforts provider her with the protection of stealth. Their avoidance of discomfort provides her with unlimited mobility while restricting them. She is part of the night while they struggle to recreate the day. Cassandra is one with the environment, they are disconnected from it.
In the morning, they will see her footprints and their blood will run cold as they try to recall what they discussed and what the person who left them may have heard. But tonight, they are oblivious to the muggle observing them.
Debra is relieved when the buzzing in her ears ends as mysteriously as it started. She returns to watching the ruin and is disappointed to see the people along with her subject have gone back into it. She watches as the man in the undersized leather jacket returns on foot carrying the helmet. She ponders where the woman and motorcycle went.
Suddenly she becomes aware that there is someone behind her. Thinking it is the woman who had disappeared right before her eyes, she says "Reappeared, have you?" as turns. She gasps as she sees Alex standing there, sword in hand.
"I think you know who I am." Alex says and Debra nods. "Stand up." Debra gets up. Alex is not her subject, but she is her student and is mentioned frequently with pictures in Ceirdwyn's file. Debra is nervous because being identified by an immortal can result in the death penalty. Alex reaches and takes Debra's notes. She reads them briefly.
"Ceirdwyn and I meet up to remember our people this time of year when we can." Debra nods. "We don't need people watching us when we do. Your people honor their war dead, don't they?" Debra nods. "We are all that is left from peoples nearly lost to time. It is deeply personal. Do you understand?" Debra nods.
"Say it."
"I understand."
Alex hands back Debra's notes. "Good. Now get out of here and if I find you again, the Watcher's will be remembering one of their own." Debra's eyes go to a glint of steel as Alex drives her message home with her sword's slight movement.
Alex walks Debra back to her car and, as she closes the door, she tells Debra "You should thank whatever gods you believe in that Ceirdwyn wasn't the one who found you spying at this private time."
Debra can't resist asking "Who were those other people?"
Alex's eyes narrow. Debra lets the matter drop.
Alex follows Debra as far as the highway before doubling back. Arriving at the Burrow, she goes to Arthur who cringes a bit thinking he's about to be scolded. Instead Alex says "I looked at her notes. She wrote that a woman appeared, moved near her, observed your home, used some sort of device, and then disappeared with a sort of flapping noise. Her hair may have changed color. It wasn't a Watcher. Anything you want to tell me?"
Arthur shakes his head.
"It sounds like one of your people. Were you setting us up?"
Arthur shakes his head. "No." He turns to Molly. "An Auror? A Metamorphmagus?"
Molly pales a bit and then flushes with anger. "There can't be many of those…"