Chapter 31

Ends and Means

Christmas Day came and went. The holiday season was as cheerful as ever, and George found solace in his family and friends and the celebration of Jesus' birth. It was unfortunate that his first Christmas with Isabel was spent in her room at St. Mungo's, but they all made the best of it. In the days leading up to the holiday, they decorated her room in all the garland, wreaths, holly, lights, and jingle bells that they could find. George brought in a small, artificial tree that he and Isabel decorated together as they snacked on hot chocolate and festively frosted sugar cookies from Molly. On Christmas Day itself George, Fred, Nigel, Frank, Fallyn, and Sarah all gathered in the small room with Isabel to celebrate and exchange gifts. She had assigned each one of them with the task of picking up one present, getting her shopping done by proxy, but it all worked out well. Many of the Weasleys paid a visit, just a few at a time, as did Sarah's and Frank's parents. Needless to say, it had been a very busy and tiring day, and at the end of it all Isabel and George had been able to steal some time for just the two of them. They talked for quite a while, and then, exhausted from both her sickness and the busy day, she ended up falling asleep in his arms. George didn't mind a bit though, and when he left her a little while later, after tucking her blankets warmly around her, he felt more hopeful for the days ahead than he had in a very long time.

In the days leading up to the new year and even into the start of January, things were increasingly busy at the shop, as they always were during school holidays, but that didn't stop George from visiting Isabel and different libraries almost on a daily basis. It seemed that her health was deteriorating more rapidly with the passage of the holidays; Isabel's symptoms were more pronounced than ever and she was beginning to have bouts of paranoia and hallucinations even while she was awake. As her symptoms began worsening, Leopold began to limit her visitation hours again. Though George didn't like it at all, he put the extra time to use in the libraries with several of his family members and friends, not giving up. The next block of time that he had been allotted to see Isabel, she had collapsed into a convulsion upon standing to greet him. The sight of her seizing on the floor, as he held her head so it didn't thrash against the hard ground and yelled for a healer, had scared him right to his very core. It was then that visitation allowance had stopped altogether.

"George!" George snapped from his thoughts at the sound of his name being yelled, echoing up the cathedral ceilings and shattering the quiet atmosphere of the ancient library. Fred's outburst earned a few harsh shushes from nearby patrons, though he paid them no mind, scrambling into the next aisle to find his brother. George was doing the same and they ran right into each other as they rounded a corner from opposite directions, nearly knocking both of them onto their rears.

"Oof- Fred? What is it? Did you find something?" He asked in rapid succession as he righted himself. His eyes landed on the small, leatherbound book that Fred was holding in his hands.

"I think so. Take a look at this." Fred opened the cover and turned the book facing George.

"That... is not English." He mumbled, looking over the strange words.

"Well no, I wouldn't expect the journal of a thousand year old Romanian healer to be written in English." George took the book right from his hands, looking over it more carefully even though he couldn't read a word of it.

"What?! How do you know that?" He couldn't help the excitement building in his chest, though the considerably smaller, realistic portion of his mind was trying to keep his optimist side in check.

"I may not be able to read Romanian, but the plaque that it was displayed on was definitely English." Fred chuckled, feeling rather optimistic himself. "This could be it, mate. This could be what we've been looking for."

"What could?" Hermione questioned, approaching them from another aisle where she had been scouring the shelves until she heard Fred's yelling. George immediately handed over the book, figuring she could tell more about it than he could.

"Fred found it. Don't suppose you read Romanian?"

"Well, no. However..." She smiled as she set the book down on a nearby desk and tugged out her wand. "I have been speaking with several experts in both healing and old treasures and documents. Professor Writhalow was especially helpful." Hermione waved her wand in a slow, circular pattern over the book and murmured an incantation that was unfamiliar to the boys. "Mutatio Quidest."

"Never heard that spell before."

"What's it do?"

"Turn books into mutant squids?"

"Or mutilate squids."

"Or put mustaches on them." The twins quipped back and forth with the customary smirks on their faces, though Hermione all but ignored them.

"Watch." She told them instead, staring intently at the pages. George and Fred glanced down.

"Well, that's far better than a mutant squid." Fred deadpanned.

"Hermione that's brilliant!"

oOoOoOoOo

"Isabel! Isabel put the knife down. It's me. It's Leopold. I'm not here to harm you." The healer spoke calmly, but firmly, his hands held palm-forward in front of him. He was standing near the doorway of her room, a safe distance from the distraught girl.

"You're a liar! You're all liars! Where's George? What have you done to him?!" Isabel yelled, mind fully engulfed by her most common paranoid delusion. Leopold never told George this, but they nearly always involved him being in some kind of danger.

"Isabel, listen to me. I am your friend. George is safe. If you let me have the knife I will let him visit you." That was a lie, he couldn't let a civilian in her room, especially not now, but if it got her past this delusion that was all he needed. He wasn't sure where she'd obtained the knife, though he imagined it was probably thanks to some wandless magic on her part. She had never threatened violence in this manner before.

"Poison! All your words are poison! You will not trick me, snake!" Isabel was terrified, he could see it in her wide, blue eyes. She wasn't lunging or infuriated, she was withdrawn, defensive, and acutely terrified, like a cornered animal. Her face was thin and dark circles gave her once bright eyes a sunken appearance. This sickness had ravaged her body and her mind alike, and Leopold had to believe it was only a matter of days now before it would succumb to its demise.

"Izzy..." Leopold whispered softly as his lowered his hands, his heart breaking at the sight of her in this state. He hadn't yet drawn his wand, afraid of what she would do before he could stop her, and he was also hesitant to attempt wandless magic on her. She was expecting him to attack her, and any failure on his part would end in tragedy. "Listen to me, dear, remember." She blinked, and the moment her defenses were questioned in her own mind, the knife was summoned from her hand, though not by Leo. In just moments, two healers had her restrained, thrusting her deeper into her own delusion and she fought back, thrashing and struggling against their hold. Her yells of protest were suddenly cut short as a sedative draught was injected into her thigh. "Why did you do that?!" Leopold snapped, turning on Chadrick Thornsby, a relatively young, but powerful healer who had quickly climbed to high status in St. Mungo's staff.

"This girl is a danger to herself and everyone around her. Your affection for her, Leopold, is going to get somebody hurt sooner or later." Leopold narrowed his eyes at the man.

"I had nearly talked her down. She was scared, not some rampant monster, as you make her sound. And now the next time her delusion will be even stronger thanks to you." He moved to check on Isabel, whom the other healers had laid her prone on her bed.

"There won't be a next time." Chadrick said shortly, effectively stopping Leopold in his tracks.

"What is that supposed to mean? We have the best healers and researchers working on a cure."

"As they have been for months. It is time for you to accept that this girl is dying, Leopold. And I will not have her spreading this disease to anyone else. For however many days or hours she may have left, she is to be kept under sedation."

"You cannot-!" Leopold cried out in outrage, only to be cut off.

"I believe, you will find, that I very well can." Chadrick turned to Romilda Vane, one of the two healers who had restrained Isabel. "Ms. Vane, see to it that Ms. Flynn receives a sleeping draught injection every 6 hours from here on out."

"Yes, Sir." Romilda nodded, and there was even a flicker of remorse in her eyes as she exited the room.

"There is no cure, Leopold. And she will not live to see one made."

oOoOoOoOo

"'I have discovered two antidotes for this dreadful ailment, each one as rare and difficult to obtain as the other.'" Hermione read from the old text, which was the journal belonging to Alexandru Leonte; a man who had been a dedicated healer and dragonologist in a time where dragon populations had been at an all-time high. She paused, her face showing a good amount of shock, and then fear.

"Hermione? What is it? What's the antidote?" George urged her. Whatever it was, he would do whatever it took to get it.

"'Three scales from a Hungarian Horntail, crushed into a fine powder. This mixed in any liquid will serve as an antidote, but the patient must drink it all. There is one other way, however, that I have found. Given the ferocity of the Horntail, I sought out an alternative. No other dragon scale had such healing properties, however, the Peruvian Vipertooth contains a type of venom that is normally quite deadly. This venom, when diluted to one part venom, one part dragon's blood, also heals the Dragon Fever. But for this, the provider must be very cautious. Even allowing contact with the skin on a normally healthy person may cause death.'" Quiet settled on the three of them as Hermione finished uttering the passage. Wheels were turning in each of their heads as they thought of ways to find these items.

"Well... what're we waiting for? Let's go hunt us some dragons." George said with determination that bordered on the reckless.

"Hold on there, George. These are dragons we're talking about here, class XXXXX beasts, we can't be going into this half-witted." Hermione told him logically.

"Then what do you suggest, Hermione? Bell's worsening by the minute, we have to work fast." He retorted, feeling even antsier now. The answer was within his grasp, and yet so far away.

"She's right, mate. This is Isabel's best shot and we gotta think it through. Won't help her any if we get maimed in the process." Fred put in, placing a supportive hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You two go home, send word to Charlie and inquire about what we just read. In the meantime, prepare for a journey of a... perilous nature. I imagine Sarah will want to be informed as well." Hermione directed and both boys agreed.

"What will you be doing?" George inquired.

"I'm going to look into this journal a bit more, see if I can get any more useful information out of it. Also, think I will contact Hagrid and some of the experts I've been working with, see what they think."

With plans to meet the following morning, the three of them parted ways to prepare as best they could for what lied ahead of them. The boys spent the night corresponding with Charlie by patronus and gathering a minimal amount of supplies they thought might come in handy. Charlie seemed to think that he could help them and suggested that they first come to see him in Romania before running off to Hungary or Peru to chase after dragons. George and Fred both agreed on this and sent word to Hermione regarding the plan as well. As George spoke back and forth with Charlie, Fred was communicating with Sarah. He had shared with her how he had found a book and now they were that much closer to getting the cure for Isabel. And then she told him something that he wasn't quite expecting, though he probably should have anticipated it. Sarah wanted to go with them.

"Mate." Fred uttered, addressing George after the silvery panther of Sarah's patronus had disappeared.

"Hm?" He answered absent-mindedly, as he was in the middle of answering Charlie again.

"George." Fred repeated to get his full attention, only continuing when he had it. George finished the message and looked at his brother. "Sarah wants to come along."

"What'd you tell her?" He asked.

"I haven't told her anything yet." Fred hesitated. "She's not gonna take it well if I tell her she can't..."

"Well why don't you want her to come?" George asked and Fred just stared at him like it was the most ridiculous question in the world.

"We're going up against the most vicious dragon alive and trying to get close enough to steal some of its scales. It's too dangerous."

"Then tell her that." George said logically, half-distracted still as he awaited Charlie's response.

"She'll think I'm babying her." He grumbled, shifting uncertainly on his feet, trying to figure out what to tell her.

"You are babying her." George answered shortly, glancing out the window as if expecting a patronus to appear any moment. Fred glared at him.

"Thanks for that, mate. Really helpful." He grumbled sarcastically. "Thought you of all people would understand why I don't want Sarah to get involved." At this, George looked at Fred, a scowl on his face.

"I do understand, Fred. You want to protect her. You know what I also understand? You can't always protect her. She's a grown witch, and a ruddy brilliant one at that, and could probably be a lot of help on the way."

"And if it were Iz? If Sarah was the one in the hospital and Isabel wanted to run off and fight some dragons to save her?" Fred returned, not exactly convinced his feelings were unjustified.

"Then we'd be having this conversation in reverse." George told him honestly. Fred nodded, thoughts already turning again. He sat down to send his response to Sarah, saying that he would be there in the morning to help her pack.

"What's Charlie saying, mate?" Fred asked after sending off his laughing hyena with the message to Sarah.

"He'll be here in the morning with a portkey. It will be the quickest and easiest way for the lot of us to get there. And he wants to see that book, will you let Hermione know?" George answered, already having received Charlie's answer and sending a short reply of agreement in the time Fred was sending his patronus to Sarah. Just then there was a rapping at the window. "Did you send an owl?" George questioned, getting up to retrieve the letter. They hadn't been using owls because it took too long and the small creatures would tire out too easily on such long distances. Fred shook his head, still working on his message to Hermione now. "Huh..." George muttered curiously and detached the letter from the owl's leg. "Oh no..." He uttered, reading the letter from Leopold regarding Isabel.

"George? What is it?" Fred asked, his attention being drawn more fully to his brother. George, with a heavy heart, read the letter out loud. It described the nature of her most recent episode, and how Chadrick had changed her treatment course to twenty-four hour sedation. Worse yet, Leopold had been removed from her case, though he assured them that he had not given up on her. "Merlin..." Fred murmured once George had finished reading it.

George went to action immediately, responding to the healer's letter first with the news of a probable antidote. He then sent yet another update to Hermione and Charlie, before sitting down once again to write another letter, this one to Molly. He gave her few details, but told her what Leopold had said and that he was following a lead for the antidote. He also asked her to go to St. Mongo's in the morning and plead Isabel's case, to speak with this Chadrick bloke about how he was treating Isabel. With a few more correspondings back and forth with Charlie, George was growing more and more weary, and soon he realized how late it had gotten.

If George hadn't been so distracted, he might have noticed Fred's odd behavior, but he was too busy making plans with Charlie and that suited Fred just fine. At some point Fred slipped down into the shop, tinkering well into the night. It was a late night for the both of them, and by the time the two went to bed, they were too anxious for the day ahead to sleep, eventually though, the both of them found a semblance of fitful rest.

On the other side of the United Kingdom, Sarah was having a hard time getting to sleep herself. She had papers to grade before the weekend was out, and who knows when she would get another chance to do them. In fact, she was already making plans for a short-term replacement for the following week, just in case this little adventure went longer than anticipated. Even when she did make it to bed, she found herself staring at the ceiling as her thoughts ran away with her. Her mind drug up old memories she had of Isabel, future ones that she didn't want to miss, fears and worries of what was to come in the near future. Sarah soon discovered she wasn't going to get and sleep if she kept this up, so she released it all in one, drawn out, slightly incoherent prayer to God. A huge weight seemed to lift from her shoulders and within minutes she had fallen asleep.

"Sarah... Sarah..." Sarah stirred from unremarkable dreams to the sound of her name and the feel of a strong hand nudging her shoulder. A scent accompanied the hand. One that filled her senses and urged her to open her eyes. It was a familiar scent, one of an intoxicating and freshly shaven man and something else mixed in. Was that... coffee? Still her limbs felt heavy and her eyelids refused to budge as an incoherent sound escaped her throat. "Come on, beautiful woman. Wakey, wakey." The same voice called to her, and then she felt a pair of warm, tantalizing lips on her throat, brushing that sensitive place on her pulse point. Sarah gasped then, her eyes fluttering open and landing on the face of her very handsome boyfriend. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, but then she realized if this was a dream, Fred wouldn't look so exhausted. Sarah lifted a hand and caressed his cheek, a soft smile on her lips.

"What a wonderful wake-up call." She murmured and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." Fred's smile, though sincere, held a note of sadness and Sarah quickly remembered why he was there.

"Oh! We have to go!" Sarah sat up fast, nearly knocking heads with him. He laughed softly with a touch of amusement, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Are you packed, love?" Fred asked, softly stroking his fingers through her hair.

"Mostly, I just gotta-" Sarah began hurriedly, hopping out of bed and haphazardly grabbing an outfit, though she was cut off by Fred gently taking her hand in his.

"We won't be able to leave for another hour or so, Sarah. We have time." He said reassuringly, leading her out to the small kitchen area.

"Fred? Where are we going? How are we getting there? What are we looking for?" Sarah asked in quick succession. All he had told her yesterday was that they might have found what they were looking for and then said he would explain the rest in person.

"How about some coffee first, love? Then we'll talk over breakfast." Sarah hesitantly agreed, taking the mug he handed her gratefully. She thought he was acting a bit strange, but it was nothing she could put her finger on. Fred began getting some things out of the cupboard and Sarah took a long drink of the warm, bitter liquid.

"Bleck, needs sugar..." She muttered. Fred was at her side in an instant, holding onto her elbow as if he were afraid she would fall. At first she was confused, but then she began to feel dizzy and her legs could no longer hold her up. She collapsed, but only to be caught by Fred's strong arms. He scooped her up bridal style. "Fred... 'red what's..." Her words were garbled and she couldn't get out a full sentence, but she was fighting the deep sleep that was attempting to overcome her with everything she had.

"I put a special brew of sleeping draught in your coffee. If I don't wake you with a kiss in three days time you'll wake on your own. I love you, Sarah. I love you so much." He explained quickly, knowing she wouldn't be able to fight it much longer.

"Fred-" Her voice was angry, but weak, and with her last ounce of strength she pushed on his chest, before going completely limp in his arms.

"I love you." He told her once more, heart aching deeply inside his chest as he looked down at her. Considering she was supposed to leave with him that very morning, he assumed she had made all the preparations as far as her teaching and such went. Fred carried her cradled in his arms like that out into the hall, and then down the way he came up. Neville, who had let him up in the first place, was still waiting near the Grand Entrance as he said he would be.

"Fred-" The Herbology Professor took a step towards him, then hesitated at the sight of his coworker limp in Fred's arms. "What's going on?"

"She's under a sleeping draught. Trust me Neville, I just want to get her somewhere safe, alright? I don't have time to explain anything else." Fred answered, pace never halting as he made for the door, that was until Neville cut him off and blocked the doorway. He didn't say anything, just studied Fred intently, as if trying to determine his motives. Apparently whatever he saw he found adequate, because after a few moments he stepped to the side and let Fred pass. Fred thanked him and then hurried down the steps with Sarah in his arms. It took some tricky maneuvering, and the help of his trusty broom and several well placed spells, but he made good time in getting Sarah's limp body across Hogwart's grounds unseen to where he could apparate. Fred took her to the safest place he knew, standing on the porch in the gray light of the early morning, he tapped the door several times with the toe of his shoe.

"Coming!" Came a distant call from inside. Moments later the front door swung inward, revealing a very recently risen Molly Weasley. Her expression went from one of curiosity of what her son was doing there so early, to one of horror at the sight of the unconscious girl in his arms. She immediately stepped out of the way and ushered him inside, shooting off questions inquiring about what had happened. Hearing the commotion, Arthur soon joined them in the sitting room. He placed a hand on his wife's shoulder to quiet her and allow Fred to get out an answer.

"She's alright, Mum, she's under a sleeping draught. Let me put her to bed, then I'll explain." His parents agreed and Fred carried Sarah's limp form up to his old bedroom. He laid her down and tucked her warmly into his old twin mattress, using an extra blanket because he knew she was apt to get cold. Again, he felt that twinge of guilt in his chest as he stroked his fingers through her soft hair, she looked so peaceful in that moment. Fred told himself, once again, that he was protecting her the best he knew how, and whatever wrath from her he had to endure at the end of all this, it would be better than the grief of losing her. For a long minute he just stood there, listening to her slow, restful breaths, but then finally knew he had to go. Fred brushed his fingers across her cheek, and then turned on his heel and stole out the door and down the stairs, back to where Molly and Arthur awaited him. Fred explained, in no great detail, what George had already informed them of. That they had found something that might be the cure for Isabel, and the journey was potentially dangerous. And then he told them how much Sarah meant to him, and that he couldn't lose her.

"Fred Weasley, you go wake that girl up this instant. This is wrong." Molly scolded.

"I know, Mum. I know it's wrong. But if she lives... isn't it worth it?"

"The ends do not always justify the means, my boy." Arthur added, a heavy look in his eyes as he placed a hand on Fred's shoulder.

"Not always." Fred murmured solemnly, still feeling that this time they did. "Please, watch after her. I gotta go."

"Fred-"

"Mum, please. Please." This time Molly only nodded reluctantly. Fred was a grown man, she couldn't make him do anything, but he clearly cared about this girl an awful lot. She just hoped he knew what he was doing. Fred thanked both of his parents before disapparating from the Burrow.

"What're we gonna do with those boys?" Arthur murmured, arm around his wife, staring at the spot Fred had just left empty.