Chapter 18: Dumb Luck and a House Elf

It's Called: Freefall by Rainbow Kitten Surprise

Headspace by Lewis Capaldi

Lonliness by Aaron Taos

A month.

That was what Hermione had told them.

They had a month to get their plans figured out. To take turns surveying the Ministry. To figure out how to get the hair from the people they would Polyjuice into. To figure out who to use. They needed to find out exactly what route was best to take to get through the Ministry with as little interruption as possible. They had to figure out how to get close enough to Umbridge to take the locket.

They had been able to procure the ingredients they needed to brew the Polyjuice by having Kreacher get them from the apothecary for them. In addition to the ingredients needed to brew a large batch of the dampening potion for Elara.

The group had started taking turns using the invisibility cloak to watch and follow a few Ministry workers they had picked out. Thanks to Ron's dad working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office for his entire life, Ron was able to spot the differences in rank and job title based on the different colored robes.

"The dark blue ones, those are magical maintenance," Ron explained. "The plum colored ones, with the "W" on them are members of the Wizengamot. Each department has different colored robes that identify the workers. Magical Law Enforcement usually wear dark green, Administrative workers wear a pale grey, anyone that heads a department wears violet with a badge that has the department name on it."

"What about the brown robes?" Elara asked, "I've seen a lot of them lately."

"Dark brown are curse breakers that work for the Ministry. Light brown are the guards that work at Azkaban."

"The Azkaban guards don't work for the Ministry?" Hermione asked.

"Not exclusively, no." Ron said. "Sometimes they're hired in through the MLE, sometimes they're outside hires."

"Knowing the color of robes is great and all," Harry said, clearly getting impatient with the conversation. "But we need to know how to get to Umbridge."

"Harry, if we know what department she's in-

"She's rounding up muggle borns, isn't she?!" Harry said, shoving a hand through his hair. "I can't imagine there's a department for that! I just need to know where her office is!"

"We can't go in blind, Harry!" Hermione reasoned. "We need to know as much as we can before we do this. We're taking an enormous risk! We have to be prepared."

"We already know who we're going to Polyjuice into!" Harry argued, "I've got the bloke Runcorn, Hermione's got Hopkirk, Ron as Cattermole and Ellie into that welcome witch in the atrium. We all know who we're turning into, so why do we need to know the robe colors?"

"Harry we need all the information we can get," Elara said.

"We need to figure out a way to communicate once we're inside." He pointed out.

"Ellie and I came up with a solution for that, actually," Hermione said, a smile creeping across her face. "I wasn't sure about the coins, if they're able to be traced or not. So, I made a new batch. These ones have the Protean charm as well as a modified version of the unplottable charm. We've tested them, tried to track them, and we aren't able to."

"Brilliant!" Harry said, finally pulled from his frustration. "Where are they?"

"I have them in our room," Elara said. "I'm going to put them on chains so we can wear them around our necks. That way we don't miss a message."

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "So we know who we're turning into. We've got the hair. We've got a way to communicate. Now what?"

"We wait," Hermione said. "We can't move until the Polyjuice is done."

"Can we speed it up?" Harry asked.

"I might be able to shave a week off, but in doing that it's going to drastically cut down the time we have inside the Ministry. I might be able to brew it strong enough to last… maybe two hours?"

"Two hours should be plenty of time," Ron said. "We know we need to get to Umbridge's office. With Ellie working as the welcome witch, she should be able to see where the office is at."

Elara nodded, "I will. But if the locket isn't in her office…"

"Then she'll have it on her, won't she?" Harry asked. "It's not like she knows what it is. Dung said she was going on about it being "S" for "Selwyn". She thinks it's her ancestor's initials, the dumb bint."

"Harry!" Elara scolded, grimacing at his language.

He rolled his eyes, leaning over to place a peck on her cheek. "Sorry."

"So three weeks, then?" Elara said, ignoring his half-hearted apology.

"Two and half." Hermione nodded.

Elara woke up panting, her hair clinging to her sweat-soaked neck at the images of Voldemort's eyes burned into her mind. She rubbed her jaw, the small scars on the underside of her chin a permanent reminder of the force of the grip he held to her face. She sat up, taking deep breaths through her nose as she tried to remind herself that it was just another nightmare. She reached her hand out to the right side of the bed to find it empty.

"Hermione?" She called out, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Are you in the loo?"

She untangled herself from the silky sheets and peeked into the cracked bathroom door. The light was off, no one inside. She sighed, grabbing her wand off the dresser and tip-toeing her way down the hall. She cast a soft lumos, trying her best not to wake anyone else in the house. When she climbed the stairs, skipping over the two that were particularly creaky, she stopped in the doorway of the library.

Hermione was asleep on the sofa, her head in Ron's lap. Ron's head was resting on the back of the cushions, his mouth open as he snored softly. She smiled at them and decided to check on Harry while she was awake, knowing that also he had a hard time sleeping. She expected him to be awake, either looking over the layout of the Ministry they had drawn up or checking the names of their friends on the Marauder's Map.

What she was not expecting, when she slowly opened the door to the room he shared with Ron, was to find him sleeping peacefully. He was on his back, one arm folded up under the pillow, one draped over his bare chest, the beaded necklace that represented her emotions resting against the hollow of his throat. The scarlet sheets were tangled around his waist and one foot was kicked out from under them, hanging off the bed.

She stifled a laugh, smiling to herself as she looked at him. His glasses sat completely askew on his face as soft snores came from his mouth. She felt her heart pound hard against her chest as she stared at his messy raven hair, sticking up in every direction even with his head against the pillow.

She wondered if he knew how much she loved these moments.

They didn't happen often. There were rarely stress-free, quiet moments in Grimmauld Place, but she couldn't help herself appreciating them more and more every time one presented itself. She could feel it in her gut, something was going to happen soon. Every time she left the house under the cloak, she could feel the emotions of everyone- of everything, and it terrified her. The air felt different. It was heavy with high emotions of people who were afraid of what was coming. She could feel that even inside the house, they were constantly on edge. Ill-tempered and frustrated more often than not.

When they weren't constantly arguing about the best way to proceed, they were studying. They were planning. They were brewing potions and stocking their supplies up- just in case. Hermione had taken over brewing potions completely; making sure they were well stocked on every type of first-aid potion she could think to brew. She also made sure to keep a hefty stock of Elara's dampening potion on hand, having been able to easily brew it with Fred's instructions. In addition to brewing necessary medical potions, Hermione spent hours deciphering the runes in the copy of The Tales of the Beetle and the Bard that Dumbledore had left for her.

Ron, on the other hand, had proven to be a talented strategist. He spent hours creating maps of the Ministry after his surveillance shifts. He and Harry spent most of their time locked in the drawing room or at the dining room table, coming up with plans to get in and out of the Ministry as efficiently as possible. Ron had written out time tables that matched up with the Floo Network and even listed out all of the floors of the Ministry and which department was on what floor.

Elara spent most of her time studying. She poured over ancient tomes that she found in the Black family library, filled with stange and old magic she had never heard of. She studied a few books that Hermione had on horcruxes and read over everything from the art of apparition to the magic behind conjuring. She tried to absorb as much as she could, and when her head began to ache, she began taking notes. Filling roll after roll of parchments as she scribbled down important notes of lunar cycles (in case they should run into a Werewolf population) to the best way to barter with Goblins. She studied her own ideals behind blood letting to try and continue to weep the dark magic from her magical center, and read up on all the notes she could get her hands on regarding the first war and the rise of Voldemort.

A loud, deep snore broke her from her thoughts and she looked back to the bed, a small smile pulling her lips. She cancelled her lumos and quietly snuck toward Harry's bed, pulling back the sheets and carefully climbing onto the mattress. Taking extra care not to wake him.

She worried about him. These days, she was more worried about Harry than she was for Draco. Seeing Blaise and Draco in Diagon Alley had calmed her anxiety around them significantly. Although Draco looked ghastly, compared to his normal put-together, well-groomed state, he was okay. He promised he was okay and promised he would look after himself. She had to trust that he would, because she didn't have the energy to worry for both Draco and Harry.

And Harry was here, right in front of her.

He barely ate. He talked obsessively about the plans to get into the Ministry, going over every single detail ad nauseum to make sure they all knew exactly what their roles were. Every scrap of information he could steal, he read with fervor, pouring all of his energy into every minute detail. She had to frequently remind him to drink water and take a rest.

But Harry never wanted to rest. Every time she suggested that maybe, just maybe, he was becoming obsessive he would get defensive and upset and start arguing with her. It was exhausting to be around his constantly swinging moods. He remained on a razor thin line of agitated and completely hopeless. Moods that made her forever grateful that she had a dampening potion, which she took full advantage of daily.

She laid on her side, propping her head up on her elbow as she watched the shallow rise and fall of his chest with his slow breaths. She reached over, gently pulling his glasses from his face and setting them on the small table next to the bed. She remained on her side, snuggling into the mattress and pulling the sheets over her hips while she counted Harry's breaths.

She closed her eyes, letting his quiet snores lull her into a sleepy state. Just as she relaxed enough to finally fall back asleep, she heard the change in Harry's breathing. She blinked her heavy eyelids open and saw him looking at her, emerald eyes squinting in the dark.

"Ellie?" He whispered.

"Hi, Harry."

"What time is it?"

"I don't know. It was just after three when I woke up, I'm not sure how long I've been awake."

"Ron?" He asked.

"He and Hermione fell asleep in the library," She explained. "They looked comfortable, I didn't want to wake them."

He nodded and turned on his side to face her, a hand reaching out to her face. He tucked a few stray hairs behind her ear, resting his hand against her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Nightmare," She said. "But I'll be fine. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't," He said. "I've been asleep a few hours. That's about all I get these days."

She worried her bottom lip, looking at him with concern. "Harry, I can help you sleep."

He shook his head, "It's okay. I can use the extra time to go over our plans."

"You have to take care of yourself, too. How do you plan on saving the world if you're too run into the ground to hold your own head up?"

"I'm not," He said, the pad of his thumb gently rubbing against her cheek. "You worry too much."

She sighed again, sitting up and pulling her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. "I have to worry," She said. "No one else does. Hermione's busy brewing potions and deciphering that children's book. Ron is staking out the Ministry for hours a day, drawing maps and listing out everything he can think to list. And you're so absorbed into your planning and maps you snap when anyone suggests you take a moment to yourself. If I don't worry about you all, who will?"

He sat up, his back leaning against the headboard before he stretched an arm over her, grabbing his glasses from the night stand and shoving them back onto his face. "It's not your job to worry about everything."

"It's not your job to save everyone," She grumbled. "But here we are."

"Yes, it is."

She huffed a breath and laid her cheek on her knees, looking at Harry in the dark. "You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and you don't let anyone relieve the ache in your back. How do you plan on standing upright when the time comes? When your spine is so crippled from refusing help from anyone…"

Harry stared at her for several minutes. She could feel his irritation simmering just below the surface, at her words. He studied her face, his eyes flickering around it, drawing invisible lines over the planes of her skin as he decided what to respond with. She expected him to lash out, to get angry and tell her to go away. That seemed to be his response to anyone who tried to tell him he was overworking himself.

Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her into his chest. He pressed his lips against the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair. He laughed quietly as he spoke into her hair, "You always smell like orange blossoms and cranberry."

She relaxed into him, her hand ghosting over his chest, landing just below the beaded necklace. Her fingers fiddled with the beads. "You always smell like broom polish and treacle," She said, craning her neck a bit to look up at him. "Harry, I have a rock in my gut that tells me things are going to get very bad, very soon. And I'm afraid of what that means."

He sighed, pressing his lips into her hair again. "I know. I feel it too. I may not be an empath, but I can feel it in the air. The fear. It's different out there now, and every day, it gets worse. And I don't know what to do to make it stop. I know I- we- have to defeat him. Find all the horcruxes and destroy them. But I have no idea where to go from here. Once we get the locket, I don't know what to do."

Elara knew that Harry was going on next to no information. The task he had been given by Dumbledore was ill-informed, at best. The man had left them barely anything to go off of and she often wondered if they would be able to figure everything out before they got themselves killed. Before people they loved and cared deeply about were killed.

"We weren't given much to go off of," Elara said, stifling a yawn with Harry's chest. "I'm not even sure how we got this far."

"Dumb luck and a house elf?" Harry suggested.

Elara laughed, "Perhaps."

He tightened his arms around her shoulders, resting his head atop hers. "Will you sing to me? That lullaby that you learned from your mum."

She nodded, "Sure, Harry."

She took in a slow breath and sang the refrain of the song she knew by heart. She hoped that one day she could convince her mother to teach her the rest of the song.

"Mm," Harry sighed in contentment. "You never hum or sing anymore. It's quiet in the house when you aren't humming some tune I don't know."

They sat in a comfortable quiet, listening to each other's breath. This was the calmest she had felt him in weeks and she didn't want to disturb it by talking, so she continued to hum. She peppered his chest with small kisses as he pressed his lips into her hair every few seconds, trailing his fingers up and down her side.

"I love you, Ellie." He said, his voice sounding heavy with exhaustion.

"I love you too, Harry." She replied, "Go to sleep, love."

She gently placed a hand on his face, her fingertips pressing against his temple as she carded through his mind, looking through the emotions like a rolodex and plucking tranquil serenity from its depths, bringing it to the forefront of his mind as his eyes fluttered closed and he succumbed to sleep once more.

Elara paced the room nervously as Hermione did a running count of all the potions she added to her collection in her beaded bag.

"So when we leave, you have everything in the bag?" Elara asked.

"Yes," Hermione confirmed. "I've got all our medical potions and supplies, I even have some muggle plasters and wraps, just in case. I've got the tent, some non-perishable food- we'll have to either multiply it or nick some from a shop if we have to…"

Elara nodded, "I've got a couple blankets and some clothes.I grabbed a few books too… Oh, and I have enough potion ingredients to resupply some of our pain relief potion, should we need it. As well as an extra cauldron. You know I'm pants at potions, but I can brew a halfway decent pain relief potion. You have the essence of dittany?"

"Yes, it's here." Hermione took a deep breath, pulling her arm from her bag and looking at Elara. "I'm really nervous about this."

"Me too," She said. "But Harry's right. The polyjuice will be done tomorrow and we could spend all of autumn making plans and going over them but it's not going to make a difference. All we're doing is wasting time."

"I know. I'm just worried about-

Hermione was cut off by the sound of screaming, followed by a thud on the floor above them. Elara jumped, rushing to the door and tearing up the stairs, two at a time.

"Harry?" She called, "Harry, are you all right?"

He yelled out again and Elara saw Ron in the doorway of the bathroom, looking terrified.

"What happened?!" She asked.

"I- I don't know! We were talking and he just got up and said he needed to use the loo. I heard him shout and when I came in, he fell!"

Harry was curled in a ball on the floor, clutching his forehead. HIs eyes were closed tightly and he was groaning in pain, sweating as he panted for air.

"It's his scar again," Elara said, pushing past Ron and dropping to her knees next to Harry. She took his face in her hands. "Harry! Harry love, open your eyes. Look at me, come on!"

She could feel the panic pulsing through him, even as the dampening potion tried to work against it. Fury. Panic. Fear. Rage. She tried to work through the surface emotions, digging for something to calm him but every layer she peeled back released another, stronger emotion than the one before. Ire. Terror. Anger.

"Harry, come on. Open your eyes for me," She whispered, cooing to him over and over, rubbing circles on his temples.

Finally, his eyes flew open and he shoved her away, moving onto all fours and retching violently on to the black marble floor. When he finished heaving up the french onion soup they had for lunch, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

"Tergeo," Elara whispered, siphoning up the sick from the floor. She conjured a glass and filled it with water, handing it to Harry.

"Thanks," He said, taking tentative sips. "Why are you all in the bathroom with me?"

"You were yelling your head off, mate." Ron said.

"Hermione and I heard you from the library," Elara said. "What did you see this time?"

"He's after Gregorovitch-

"The wandmaker?" Hermione asked, from her place next to Ron in the doorway.

"Isn't that the one who made Viktor Krum's wand?" Elara asked. "I remember you saying something about it at the wedding. You've had visions of him before?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, he's after the wand maker. I don't know why though. He just killed a family I think in… in Germany? Russia, maybe? I don't know. I don't know what language they were talking in."

"Harry, you're not supposed to-

"I know, Hermione!" Harry snapped, "I know! But I can't always control it and if I'm going to keep having them, I may as well use them as an advantage. We know he wants the wand maker, we just need to figure out why."

"Ron, Hermione, why don't you both go fix some tea? I can handle it here." Elara suggested.

"I don't need to be handled!" Harry hissed.

Elara pursed her lips and looked at Hermione and Ron. Hermione nodded, taking Ron's elbow and leading him away from the open door. She waited until she could hear the creaking of the steps before turning back to Harry.

"I agree with you," She said. "First off, let's get that out in the open. I agree that you have this… this connection and if you can't figure out how to rid of it… Well, we may as well see it as an advantage."

"Really?" Harry asked, his voice thick with his skepticism.

"Really."

"Why? Hermione and Ron… They both think-

"Hermione and Ron don't know what it's like to have him inside your head. I do. I know how terrifying it is, and I know that if you could block it out, you would. But since you can't, there's no point in making a big deal about it every time. He's properly furious. Why?"

"I… I don't know."

"What does the wand maker have to do with it?"

"I don't know."

"Ollivander's has been boarded up for months, the man went missing a year ago. I'm betting You-Know-Who has him locked up somewhere. If that's the case, why would he need two wandmakers?"

"Maybe Gregorovitch has something Ollivander doesn't?"

"A rare wood type or something, you think?" Elara asked.

Harry shrugged, "No idea. He's been obsessed with wands since ours connected when you guys came to get me from my aunt and uncle's."

Elara sighed, pushing her hair from her face and leaning her back against the tub next to Harry. "When I got my wand, I began looking into rare wood types and cores. My wand is apparently special, according to Mr. Ollivander. I was interested… But I can't think of anything that would have him traveling through different countries. Why go through all that effort for a wand?"

"Maybe he needs a new one and he wants the best?" Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I don't know if mine split his when they connected, but it didn't look great."

The cogs began to turn in her mind as she tried to piece all the information together. "You don't think he knows we're planning on breaking into the Ministry tomorrow, do you?"

Harry shook his head, "No. If he did, I doubt he'd be… wherever he's at, on a wild goose chase for some ancient wandmaker."

She nodded, "No, no I don't think he would."

She sighed, letting her head fall back against the tub and looking up to the ceiling. She was trying to connect the dots, trying to make sense of the vision Harry had. The only problem being that not all of the dots were the same. Some were squares or diamonds while others were perfectly spherical. It just didn't make sense! And it was maddening that they couldn't figure out the cause of obsession over the wandmakers.

She felt Harry's head fall onto her shoulder and she laid her own atop his. "I'm nervous about tomorrow," She admitted.

"Me too," He said. "But we've got to do something."

.

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a/n: Hey, thanks for reading! Don't forget that you can come join me on my FB group Mimifreed Writing and see sneak peeks and chapter to chapter mood boards and manips and things of the like.

Also, this is the extra chapter, as promised. I know it feels like a lot of setup/filler here, but I promise the next chapter is awesome. I'll be posting that tomorrow! I'm honestly so excited for the next chapter! *jumps up and down*

Okay so, I post songs at the beginning of the chapter that I feel fit the vibe, are lyrically important or whatever.. I want to mention the song "Headspace" by Lewis Capaldi is the lullaby that Elara always sings. The chorus, anyway. So if you've been wondering about it, look it up. It's a really beautiful song and honestly the entire thing fits this chapter pretty well. If you join my FB group, I have the Spotify playlist posted there with ALL of the music from every chapter complied into one playlist.

Okay, I'm done rambling. Thanks for reading, please review!

xo

Mimi