The Devil in Me

No Room for Heart and Soul

The chapter title comes from the song:

Top of the World by Greek Fire.

~ WARNINGS ~

M/M smut scene

Graphic, rough M/F sex scene [EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT]

Meanwhile on "Keeping Up with the Prewett-Weasley's"…

The Burrow, Devon

When a knock sounded on the back door of the Burrow, Arthurs instant reaction was to be cautious. When he did the security checks and saw Percy at the door, his heart stopped for a moment. With every fibre of his being, he wanted to rip open the door and hug his son, but he knew that he couldn't, he had to make sure that this wasn't a trap.

Arthur took a breath and asked a question that only Percy would know the answer to. When he answered it correctly, Arthur unlocked the door and pulled it back, allowing Percy to walk into the kitchen.

"Percy-" Arthur began, reaching out to hug Percy.

Percy stiffened up immediately and pulled back, "I'm not here for social niceties, Dad. I'm here to find out what is happening to this family. Is it true? The rumours circulating the Ministry about Bill and Charlie being Death Eaters?"

Arthur sighed and bowed his head in a nod.

"And Mum? Is she fighting with Ron? Did she really leave?" Percy asked in disbelief.

"She didn't leave, I told her to get out of my house," Arthur said, getting his fight back, "When you were talking to people at the ministry, did you hear anything about your sister?"

Percy shook his head.

Arthur sighed, he sounded tired, "Your mother gave her a piece of jewellery enchanted with a powerful compulsion charm."

Percy didn't look like he believed his father, so Arthur finished, "She coerced Ginny into making a love potion and slipping it to Harry."

Percy's eyes snapped up, "What? Why?"

Arthur turned away from his son, "We have always had money problems, you know that. My brother, Bilius pilfered away his inheritance in a year, and that wasn't chiefly because of his stupidity, it wasn't a big inheritance."

Percy frowned as his father spoke openly about something that had been a long-held secret in the family.

"Most of my father's money went on your Aunt Darcy's dowry," Arthur explained.

"Marrying his only daughter to the chief of the MacDougal family seemed like a good political move, and he was right, you know how dominant they are in Scotland."

Percy nodded.

"Of course my eldest brother, your Uncle Charlie inherited everything, and for years he offered us money," Arthur said with a sigh, "Your mother always said no. She said we would make our own way, that the Prewetts were an ancient, proud family and they didn't need to accept Weasley hand-me-downs. Why she married me, I don't know; she always viewed the Weasley's as lesser than the Prewett's."

Percy frowned at his father. They had always argued because he felt his father was too ignorant, too weak, too much of a push-over. But he was starting to understand the reasons behind that.

"I allowed Charlus to put some money into trust funds, one for each of you," Arthur confessed, "I did it behind your mothers back, but I wanted to make sure that if the worst happened to us, you and your siblings would have something to fall back on."

Percy swallowed, he hadn't known that, and he suddenly felt a wave of gratitude towards his father.

"So you can imagine how angry I was when I found out that, having refused hand-outs from my family for years, your mother told me that Dumbledore had been paying her," Arthur said, his tone changing.

"He paid her to talk about the platform loudly when she saw a young, lost looking boy trying to find the Hogwarts Express... He told her to ensure that Ron befriended the boy by sitting with him on the train, and I suspect Dumbledore did that to steer Harry in the right direction, to ensure he would be sorted into Gryffindor house."

"So that he wouldn't go dark," Percy murmured, "That went well for Dumbledore."

"I would hazard a guess that Harry found out the truth," Arthur said, looking over at his son, "He would have been angry, and at the best of times, Harry acts rashly which would explain why he murdered Dumbledore."

"It doesn't excuse it though," Percy cut in.

"No, it doesn't," Arthur agreed.

"So you kicked Mum out for taking money from Dumbledore?" Percy clarified.

"I told her to leave because she potentially ruined a young man's life and she claims she did it for money, but we could have gotten double what Dumbledore gave her if she had just allowed me to accept my brother's help," Arthur said irritably.

"Whatever her real reasons for going along with Dumbledore's plans, I expect they were far more sinister than financial gain."

Percy shook his head in disbelief, "She was still your wife-"

"And she was shunning my sons," Arthur snapped, "We had already lost you, and when Bill made a deal and joined the Death Eaters to stop them attacking his wedding, I understood but your mother couldn't. Bill told us that Fleur was pregnant with twins and that he had done it to protect his family and your mother couldn't even utter congratulations, she just wanted to disown him!"

"Bills going to be a Dad?" Percy asked. His voice was quieter all of a sudden.

Arthur sighed and pressed his fingers into his temple, "Yes, Fleur is due to give birth in March next year."

"I've missed so much," Percy realised.

Arthur looked his son in the eye, "Yes, you have. Fred and George left too, Fred was bitten by Greyback in battle, and your mother couldn't understand that either. They left, with Hermione, not long before Ginny went back to school."

Percy shook his head as he tried to process all of that information, "So Fred is a werewolf, Bill and Charlie are Death Eaters, and Mum and Ron are heading up the Army of the Phoenix? I mean…is there anything else you haven't told me?"

"Your sister didn't take the news well," Arthur confessed, "Your mother lied to her and manipulated her. According to Bill, she had something of a breakdown, and she won't leave her room in his quarters. She eats and drinks, so she's keeping herself alive, but she won't talk to any of us."

Percy scoffed angrily, "How could you let this happen, Dad?"

"How could I let this happen?" Arthur asked angrily.

"I didn't let anything happen, but in case you haven't noticed Percy, we are losing this war!"

Percy opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it.

"And some of us have realised that," Arthur said quietly, "It's becoming clear that the only way to survive is to accept that. You work at the Ministry, don't pretend you don't know that. You may not have joined You-Know-Who, but by keeping your job there, you are not openly opposing him either."

Percy sighed and sat down at the kitchen table, "I know that it seems that way. I did keep my job, and yes, I accepted the promotion they gave me when the rumours of Bill and Charlie being marked began to circulate."

Arthur leant against the back of a chair, surveying his son with interest.

"But that doesn't mean I condone everything that they are doing, Dad. I mean, I see it every day, I'm a part of it. They paint this picture that the Muggle-born Marriage Law will save wizardkind and that it's merciful. Still, they don't mention the dozens of Muggle-borns who are tortured and thrown in Azkaban every day for refusing to give their information to the Ministry."

Arthur gripped the back of the chair tightly.

Percy looked down at his hands, "The next bill the Wizengamot are pushing through amounts to nothing less than kidnapping. They plan on using the magical charter that alerts us every time a magical child is born, and they will take babies away from muggle parents and place them with a reputable magical foster-family."

Arthur grimaced and shook his head, "Bill and Charlie always talk about how he has a vision, a vision of a better world."

"He does," Percy agreed, "And in principle, I agree with his long-term goals but the short-term methods he's using to achieve them…I just don't know if I can get behind them."

"I think it's probably too late for that now, Percy," Arthur said, a resigned tone to his voice.

Percy looked up at him, "So you aren't fighting at all? You've just given up?"

With a sigh, Arthur sat down, "Yes. I have given up. He has people everywhere. From the moment Harry changed sides, the dominoes began to fall, more and more people and families have turned to his cause and far faster than they did in the last war too. It is time to accept that we have lost this war, Percy."

Percy shook his head, "No, the light-"

"I don't mean the light," Arthur said, his voice cracking with emotion, "I mean this family."

The Forest of Dean

"You okay, princess?"

Hermione looked up from her book, "Hm?"

Fred smiled at her, "You've been reading that book for the last hour."

She looked down at the drawing of the three brothers in "The Tales of Beedle the Bard". Hermione tapped her finger against the parchment and sighed, "It's this symbol. I have a feeling that it's important."

Fred crossed the tent and hovered behind her, his breath hot on her neck, "That's Grindelwald's symbol."

Hermione subconsciously leant back into his arms, "Grindelwald's Symbol?"

"Mmhm," Fred murmured, kissing her neck and grabbing a pencil from behind her ear, "Well, it's close anyway. There was a 'G' on either side like this, and that line through the middle here? It was a wand in Grindelwald's symbol."

Hermione watched as he sketched on top of the symbol. She looked at the faint pencil marks against the ink-drawn symbol.

"What does Grindelwald's symbol have to do with the Tale of the Three Brothers?" She asked, eventually.

"I don't know," Fred admitted, "But I'm sure I've seen that symbol referenced before, maybe even in History of Magic when we were learning about Grindelwald."

Something tugged at her, in the back of her head. Hermione bit her lip and looked at the symbol once more, "I remember something similar, but I can't remember the details."

"That's not like you," Fred noted.

"It was in fourth year," Hermione said, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate, "I was more focused on reading up on how to keep Harry alive than I was on listening in History of Magic that year."

The mention of Harry made the air in the tent tenser than usual. Fred and George were furious at him for what he had done to Hermione and Hermione mostly just got sad when she thought about him, unless she'd been drinking out of Fred and George's hipflasks - the moonshine made her drunk, and that was when she let herself get angry.

Hermione sighed and let her head drop onto the table. Fred sat down opposite her and reached over, taking her hands in his own, "Maybe it's in another book, one of the historical ones you brought?"

"I doubt it," Hermione replied dryly, "There's no new information, Fred. Every day the prophet is the same; it's all propaganda and bullshit."

"It's not today."

Fred and Hermione both looked up. George had just slipped into the tent with a pile full of newspapers.

"You said to look out for anything strange," George said, his eyes on Hermione.

Hermione nodded, "Yes, did you find anything?"

George dropped a paper in front of her and pointed to the front page.

"Does that qualify as strange to you?"

Hermione's eyes widened as she looked upon the headline and the photograph of a young Albus Dumbledore with Gellert Grindelwald.

Fred peered over and whistled, "Man, it doesn't surprise me that he was gay, but really, he was boning Grindel-"

"Fred," Hermione muttered, whacking him in the arm without really meaning it.

George shot his brother a grin, "He's got a point though, Mione. Dumbledore and Grindelwald, working together? I mean it's a good thing he came to his senses."

Hermione frowned down at the paper as she scanned the article, "We don't know that he did, and Rita Skeeter wrote this article so I would take everything in it with a pinch of salt."

"There's that symbol again," Fred pointed out, motioning to a necklace around the young Grindelwald's neck.

"It keeps popping up," Hermione said, running her finger over the photograph, "I can't help but think it's important."

"What did you mean when you said we don't know for sure that Dumbledore did see the error of his ways?" George asked, as ever he was the more perceptive of the boys.

Hermione bit her lip and got up, "I don't know, it's a hunch, maybe. But for Harry to kill Dumbledore…something must have happened-"

"Yeah, he went off his rocker-"

"Fred," George muttered, elbowing his twin in the ribs.

Hermione looked up, "No. Harry must have had a reason, and if Dumbledore and Grindelwald were friends, then maybe he wasn't as innocent as we all believed."

She began to pace the tent, as she always did when she had an idea, "I mean if we look at it logically, the evidence suggests that he is misguided at best and evil at worst."

Fred crossed his arms over his chest, "Go on?"

"He left Harry on the doorstep of his Aunt and Uncles house," Hermione said, "The doorstep, he didn't even go inside. He left him there in October, with just a letter. I mean come on, you've heard your dad talk about that time. Even though Vol-"

"Don't say it!" George snapped, "Remember what Charlie told us? The taboo?"

Hermione caught herself and nodded, "Sorry, habit. But really, even though You-Know-Who had supposedly been defeated, he still had so many followers out there. Anyone could have killed or kidnapped, Harry."

Fred looked over at George, "Do you think we should tell her?"

George nodded and looked at Hermione.

"Tell me what?" Hermione asked warily.

"When we broke him out of the Muggles house the summer before your second year," George began.

"He was in a bad way," Fred finished.

Hermione's eyes widened, "You mean…they…they hurt him?"

Fred nodded, "They starved him, neglected him. I'm pretty sure his Uncle hurt him, physically."

Hermione's frown deepened, "Surely Dumbledore would have known that? I mean none of it makes sense! He didn't stick up for Sirius; he just let him go to Azkaban without a trial. It's like…"

"Like he wanted Harry to grow up alone and weak," Fred finished.

Hermione looked up and nodded, "But that's crazy, isn't it?"

"I don't know," George admitted, "I always got the impression that Dumbledore was out for himself. He gave off this kooky old man vibe, but it always felt like a mask."

"Like how you two hide your Mensa level intelligence behind silly jokes and pranks," Hermione said, a fondness in her eyes.

"Well, it takes one to know one, I suppose," George said, "And with Dumbledore, something always felt off."

"Especially during the Triwizard Tournament," Fred said, a dark look in his eyes, "Any decent Headmaster would have investigated why the goblet of fire spat out Harry's name and done whatever they could have to stop him from having to compete."

"I know," Hermione said, "I thought about that a lot in fifth year. I just…I'm starting to wonder if Dumbledore isn't so different from Grindelwald. What if he just used Harry in his plan to defeat You-Know-Who? If Harry found out that Dumbledore had lied to him and betrayed him, then I can see why that would make him react in anger."

"But to join the Death Eaters? Without even talking to you or Ron?" George said, "I know Ron's a dick sometimes, but still, you were always like a sister to Harry, so why wouldn't he talk to you?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, her eyes darkening, "I wish I did, but I don't."

Fred sighed and walked over, stopping inches away from her. He cupped her face in his hands and said, "Whatever the reason, he did kill Dumbledore and then he switched sides. We can't change that now, all we can do is stay alive and try to find these objects you're looking for."

"Oh, that reminds me," George said, "I saw this photograph at the back of the paper. You know how you told us to look for any strange or really old family artefacts?"

Hermione looked up and nodded.

"Well there's this," George said, showing her the paper, "And it looked like the mark of Slytherin to me."

"It is!" Hermione exclaimed, "And that's Dolores Umbridge, how on earth did she get it?"

"No idea," Fred pointed out, his hand dropping from her face.

George shook his head, "Me either. Are you ever going to tell us why it's so important?"

Hermione sat down on the edge of one of the bunk beds. She let her head rest in her hands for a few minutes while she wrestled between telling them the truth and telling them a white lie.

Eventually, she replied, "I think it's a Horcrux."

"A what?"

"A piece of dark magic," Hermione said, looking up at the twins, "The darkest magic. You-Know-Who has split his soul, and he has done it more than once. I think that locket contains a piece of his soul, which means that if he is killed, he can be brought back like he was before."

The twins were silent as they let this sink in.

"So how do we destroy it?"

"We don't," Hermione said dryly, "Because it doesn't matter. Destroying one won't make a difference unless we destroy all of them. By now, Harry will have told You-Know-Who that I know about them so he will have gathered all of the ones he knows about and put them somewhere safe."

Fred looked at Hermione in disbelief, "So he's…"

"-invincible," the twins said together.

"Essentially, yes," Hermione answered, "Do you see why I have to be on the run now? I know his biggest secret which instantly puts a target on my head."

"And let's be honest, it means we can't win this war," George said quietly.

"Come on Georgie, don't be like that-"

"George is right," Hermione said, looking up at the boys, "We can't win this war. But we can retrieve the locket and keep it for insurance. If we are caught, then we have leverage, something that You-Know-Who wants."

"Hermione," George said, shaking his head, "It's not worth the risk."

"He's right, princess," Fred said, sitting down next to Hermione on the bunk, "If we get caught trying to retrieve the necklace then we're dead in the water. Aren't we better to stick to the side-lines?"

"And do nothing?" Hermione asked coldly, "I can't keep running! We need to do something, and at the very least if we had insurance, I would feel safer."

"If you agree to let us go home, we'll consider it," George said, sitting down on Hermione's other side.

"It's too risky, I've told you, they will have people watching the Burrow," Hermione said, she sounded tired, as if she had said the same thing a thousand times already.

"I know it's a risk, but is it any riskier than trying to get this necklace?" Fred asked, "We can't keep ignoring Dads Patronuses about Ginny."

"Yes, we can," Hermione snapped, "You have plenty of other brothers who can handle it!"

She pushed herself to her feet and spun around, "If we go there, we are stupidly risking all of our lives, and I can handle putting myself in the firing line, but I can't handle losing you two!"

The twins' eyes softened.

"I can't," Hermione said tearfully, "I've lost too much already."

Fred pulled her close and kissed the top of her head, "You won't lose us."

Hermione sighed and pulled away, looking at George for the same confirmation.

The more sincere twin took her hand and gently pulled her towards him. He kissed her lips lightly, and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut involuntarily.

"We're a pack," George murmured against her lips, "We'll never let anything happen to you, and we know that you'll never let anything happen to us."

Hermione pressed a kiss against his lips then pulled away to look at Fred.

"We're family, Hermione," Fred promised as he ran his thumb down her cheek, "Family have each other's backs, always."

"That's why we have to have Dads back now," George said.

Hermione let out a sigh, and Fred placed a soft kiss on her lips. She pulled back and wiped her eyes, gathering her composure back up and taking a final steadying breath.

"Okay. The next time we get a Patronus from your dad, we'll go."

Ben Lomond, Scotland

The mountaintop that Charlie and Felix were spending the night on was freezing, but they didn't tend to feel the cold with dragons by their sides. There was always a roaring fire and a large, warm body to curl up next to. Dragons like Sarris and Lennox who the two trainers had raised from birth tended to be as protective over their trainers as the trainers were over them.

As it currently stood, the two dragons kept watch outside while Charlie and Felix kept each other warm and occupied inside the tent.

Felix was lying below Charlie in a makeshift camp bed, and Charlie was moving against him, his mouth on Felix's neck as he moved against Felix. They had developed a rhythm that they knew like clockwork now, so many nights had been spent like this since they joined the Dark Lords ranks.

"Don't you ever miss Peru?" Felix murmured, grabbing Charlie's face and forcing him to look at him.

Charlie kissed Felix lightly, slowing his thrusts and murmuring against the other trainer's lips, "Why?"

Felix groaned against Charlie's lips, "The heat," he said, breathing in sharply as Charlie pulled almost all of the way out of him then thrust in hard, "Fuck Charlie, you remember? Just lying there in the baking heat with the stars above us?"

Charlie was close to the edge, his skin glistened with his sweat, and his voice was breathy and low when he said, "You're being sentimental."

Felix supposed he was, but before he had a chance to defend himself, Charlie claimed his lips. Felix kissed Charlie back instinctively, dragging him down by the back of the neck and rocking against the other man. Charlie groaned into Felix's mouth and thrust into the smaller man harder; his steady rhythm becoming erratic.

With a groan of, "Fuck, Charlie," Felix arched his back and tightened his grip on Charlie's arms. Charlie reached between them and grabbed Felix's cock, making the smaller man shout his name as Charlie pumped his fist in time to his thrusts into Felix.

They were both close when they kissed, all open-mouthed and messy; Charlie resting his forehead against Felix's as they came together, murmuring each other's names and releasing all the pent up tension of the day.

They stayed like that for a second, Charlie propped up on his elbows above Felix, their foreheads touching and their hearts beating wildly, their chests heaving as they tried to get their breath back.

Charlie rolled to the side and shivered involuntarily. Felix cast a cleaning charm over them both and reached for a sheepskin blanket. He loosely threw it over their bodies, but neither of them said anything at first.

Felix didn't think he would be able to get to sleep for a while, but he had his eyes shut in an attempt to do so anyway. Then in the quiet of the night, Charlie spoke.

"I miss how simple things were in Peru."

Felix opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to look at Charlie.

Charlie gave him a searching look, "Before dark lords and marriage contracts."

"Don't," Felix muttered.

"We can't not talk about it forever, Felix," Charlie said, rolling onto his side and running his hand up the other man's leg, eventually stopping and resting it on his hip bone.

"There's a lot of things we don't talk about, Char," Felix said, looking away from Charlie to focus on the opening of the tent – through the gap they could see their dragons, slumbering by the fire.

"We don't talk about the muggles we feed to the dragons when they're hungry after a long flight," Felix said in a pained whisper, "We don't talk about the way you look disgusted every time you see that mark on your arm."

Charlie couldn't even look at his arm. Instead, he looked up at the roof of the tent.

"We don't talk about the fact we fly over dozens of areas protected by magical enchantments every day and hand the co-ordinates over to the Dark Lord. We know that when we do that, snatchers are sent into the area but we don't talk about that."

Charlie swallowed hard.

"And we don't talk about how we never give the Dark Lord the co-ordinates when you scan the wards and recognise a magical signature," Felix finished, rolling onto his side to look at Charlie, "Because you know it's your brothers and the girl they have with them."

"There's a reason we don't talk about that, Felix," Charlie said, his eyes a whole shade darker as he looked at the other man.

"We don't talk about it because if I talk about it too much, it's going to fucking break me and I can't afford that. I'm holding my family up right now; my dad is depressed, Bill is freaking out about becoming a father and he's holding Ginny together right now, I mean Ginny won't even fucking talk to us, and Merlin knows what Percy's doing or if one day soon I'm going to have to face Ron and my own mother in a goddamn battle."

Felix brought his hand to Charlie's face, and Charlie closed his eyes, breathing a little better for the contact.

"And I can't do anything," Charlie said, his voice breaking, "I can't help my dad, I can't help Bill, I can't make Ginny better, I can't force Percy to come back to his family. I can't make Mum and Ron change sides. All I can do is keep flying when I recognise those wards."

Felix pressed a light kiss against Charlie's lips, and Charlie melted into the softness of it, the security that it brought him.

In a broken whisper, Charlie said, "So I spend my nights trying to forget what we do all day and with what the Dark Lord said to you before we left today…I might be about to lose the only lifeline I've got."

"You're not losing me," Felix said firmly, "You'll never lose me."

It was firm enough that Charlie opened his eyes and looked at his fellow trainer.

"Yes, the Dark Lord informed me that I'm pushing 30 now and I need a wife and heir to carry on the family name," Felix agreed. His thumb caressed Charlie's cheek, lulling the redheaded man into a sense of security and comfort.

"So I guess that just means I'll need to find someone who can handle my unorthodox lifestyle because I'm not giving this up," Felix finished.

Charlie looked at him for a long moment, and then he pulled Felix into a kiss – a different kiss from usual, it wasn't demanding or lustful.

It was needy and fuelled with emotion, the only way Charlie knew to express his gratitude and the depth of his feelings towards Felix.

"I've given up enough already," Felix murmured in-between kisses, "And you are the only thing that makes this life worth living."

He broke the kiss to grip Charlie's left arm in his own, and Charlie averted his eyes.

"No," Felix said, placing their arms side by side, "Look at it."

"Felix-"

"If you're making me face the truths I'd rather not face then I'm sure as hell doing the same for you," Felix said firmly, "Look at it, Charlie."

Charlie looked at their dark marks grudgingly, but he did not avert his gaze.

"You look at that, and you think it makes you weak," Felix said, "But it doesn't. It makes you strong enough to do what it takes to survive in a world that wants to kill you."

Charlie looked Felix in the eye and found the fire burning there incredibly alluring.

"You're the strongest person I know and -" Felix faltered for a brief second then caught himself, "- I love you."

Charlie's eyes widened, if it weren't for the emotional nature of the moment, Felix would have found it adorable. Charlie rolled over, pressing Felix against the camp bed as he kissed him hard and with more feeling than he knew how to express in words.

The dragons outside slumbered on, oblivious to the soft noises and murmurings of their trainers. Charlie found comfort in Felix's words that night; he reassured him that life was still life. That while the world continued to turn and the stars continued to shine, there was hope.

Prewett Castle, South Wales

A small band of rebels were gathered around a table in the war room which had once been a tapestry room leading off the castles' great hall. The castle had been in a state of disarray when they took it on as their base, but they had made it watertight now at the very least.

Ron pulled his cloak closer to him and pointed his wand at the fire in the corner, firing it up a notch.

"We need a plan. We need to change something. We are losing this war."

Ron looked up to see who had spoken – it had been Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"We need to start being pro-active and stop being so reactive," Augusta Longbottom said darkly.

Molly nodded, "Augusta is right. We need to go out and do something rather than sitting here waiting for the Death Eaters to attack like we always do."

"And what do you suggest exactly?" Kingsley asked, his eye on the two women.

Molly and Augusta shared a dark look, a knowing look.

"We take one of the Greengrass girls," Augusta said.

Kingsley frowned, "For what purpose?"

"To draw the Death Eaters into a trap," Molly answered, "You-Know-Who has the Blacks, and the Malfoys, the last piece of the puzzle is the Greengrass family. With them, he can truly say that he had complete control over the country."

"What do they care about a kid though?" Seamus asked. He, Lavender and Dean had joined them a few weeks ago, Seamus and Lavender having found Dean on the run after they fled Hogwarts.

Ron had been glad to have a few people his own age around, especially when Lavender started fawning after him again – she was a welcome distraction.

"If a child of theirs is taken and held captive, it may be enough to convince the Greengrass's to stay neutral," Augusta said, "To avoid joining up with You-Know-Who."

"Or it goes the other way and forces them to join up with You-Know-Who," Kingsley pointed out.

"Yes, Kingsley, it's a risk," Molly agreed, "But frankly, everything we could do is a risk. If we capture the girl, the Death Eaters will come for her hoping that her rescue will lead the Greengrass family into joining them. But really, they will be playing right into her hands."

"We can lay an ambush," Ron said with a nod.

"A trap," Molly agreed.

Kingsley looked at Molly for a long moment, "If we do this, we take the younger girl; otherwise, it amounts to line theft, and any traditional family would call for our heads after that."

"I agree," Augusta said with a nod, "And I believe I have the perfect place to hold her. Longbottom House is a ruin, but it has a high vantage point and a heavily defensive position. There are underground tunnels everywhere, making it perfect for an ambush."

Ron frowned, "Wouldn't it make more sense to keep her here? We have a dungeon underneath our feet."

"Yes, Ronald, let's draw the Death Eaters right into our base when they foolishly run in to rescue the girl," An Auror said irritably.

Molly's eyes flashed, "Do not speak to my son like that, Wolfe."

"Tell him not to be so pathetically dim-witted them," Wolfe replied dryly.

Molly looked like she was about to lunge forward, so Kingsley intervened, "Wolfe is right, Molly. Keeping her at Longbottom House is safer. If anything does go wrong if the Death Eaters try to rescue her, at least they won't capture our base that way."

"What do you mean 'if they do'?" Lavender asked, "Surely they will see it as their only chance to get the Greengrass family on their side? Harry has been attempting to convince the heiress, but his attempts have been pathetic, he spends too much time sleeping with Theodore Nott to devote enough attention to her."

"He's sleeping with Nott?" Ron asked, his nose shrivelling up with disgust, "His standards really have dropped since he joined the Death Eaters."

Molly made a noise of agreement.

"The point Kingsley was making is that these guys are Death Eaters," Another Auror said, "Logic dictates that rescuing the girl is their best chance to get the Greengrass family's favour, but these guys are sociopaths. You think they give a fuck about a silly little girl? She's not the heiress; they could care less if she lives or dies."

"She won't die, Cauldwell," Kingsley said, fixing his gaze on the Auror, "We are not the Death Eaters, we don't kill children for kicks."

"But they kill our children, and we don't retaliate?" Molly questioned, "Maybe we should kill the girl, as retribution for what they did to the poor Abbott girl."

"We are better than them, Molly," Kingsley said, "And if we lose this war, I would like to lose with my moral integrity intact."

"That's the difference between you and I, Kingsley," Molly said hotly, "I don't want to lose. Losing isn't even an option in my books, we will win, and we will do so by any means necessary."

"Not by killing children!" Kingsley snapped, "If we kill the Greengrass girl, then they will retaliate by killing one of our children, and it becomes an eye for an eye. I won't put Kiera or Piper in danger for the sake of the Abbott girl."

Maggie took Kingsley's hand, "We all have children to protect," she looked across the room at a pretty girl with strawberry blonde hair, drawn up into a ponytail. She had a round, freckled face and pale blue eyes.

Ron knew that her name was Caroline and that she was Maggie's daughter from her first marriage. She had been in the year above Ron at school, but because she had been in Ravenclaw, Ron hadn't really been aware of her.

"Some of our children even insist on fighting by our sides," Maggie said quietly, "Making this fight all the more difficult because of what we have to lose."

Caroline nodded, but there was a look in her eyes, the look of someone who wasn't entirely sure what they were fighting for.

A redheaded man by her side, put his hand on the small of her back and said, "It'll be okay, Caroline, even if you can't see it now."

"Thanks, Eddie," Caroline said, gently pushing his hand off of her.

The air was tense, and the room was silent. Ron frowned down at the map laid out on the table before them. His mother had changed lately. Frankly, the only word that Ron could think of to use was deranged, half the time she acted deranged.

"We will kidnap the girl," Kingsley said finally, "But before we do so, we will plan it out methodically because we are outnumbered, which means there is no room for error."

Molly gave a stiff nod and looked down at the map which was covered in red dots.

"The situation out there is getting more drastic by the day. Reports of mysterious muggle deaths went up again this week, and more muggle-borns have gone missing. We've been picking off small groups of snatchers, but You-Know-Who picks street urchins up and imperiuses them as quickly as we can kill them."

Ron knew what they were all saying – we're losing – but none of them would put that into words. They were all pretending that they stood a chance, even though they knew they were vastly outnumbered. Lavender and Seamus had given them the run-down of Harry's return to school and his apparent position as You-Know-Who's right-hand man, and even if they refused to admit it, it had been an enormous blow.

"Any word from Matthias Jones?" Dean asked.

Kingsley looked at the aristocratic blonde woman by his side, "Maggie?"

Maggie nodded, "My brother can see how drastic the situation is. With any luck, he ought to join us soon," she said in a subtle Welsh accent.

"Good. We need all the resources that we can get," Molly said with a nod.

Ron frowned and looked out of the hall into the vast courtyard, "Is it really the worst idea to lure the Death Eaters here? Between the wards, the cursed doorways and the barbican, we could pick them off as they came in. I mean, the barbican is the only way in or out, and if we pull the planks from under them, they aren't going to survive the kelpies."

"And if some of them get in and kill us, then it's all over," Molly snapped, "Don't be so stupid, Ron."

Ron clenched his teeth, his jaw setting. He wanted to fight with her, but before he could do anything, a Patronus flew into the room.

"Mum. It's me; I'm outside. I've had a change of heart, and I need to do something, I need to fight."

Molly's eyes widened, "Percy," she breathed.

"It could be a trap," Maggie cautioned.

Kingsley grabbed Molly's arm and cast the appropriate identification spells, "It is him."

Molly yanked her hand out Kingsley's grasp and ran towards the barbican.

Prewett Castle's entrance was unusual because of how paranoid the Prewett family had been about being attacked by their then-rival, the Jones family who were based in North Wales.

When you entered the barbican or main gate, you had to weave your way through narrow winding corridors with timber floors. These timber floors were retractable bridges that could be pulled away with magic. The castle was built on a hill and beneath its foundations was a vast underground lake that was positively infested with Kelpies. Needless to say, if a bridge was retracted and someone fell into the bottomless pit, it was a matter of whether their neck would break before or after the Kelpies got to them.

Molly made her way through the winding tunnels, lowered the drawbridge and pulled Percy into her arms, "Percy! It's so wonderful to see you, oh, I've missed you so much!"

Percy patted her on the back awkwardly then she said, "I'll show you around, darling, we'll get you all settled. You've never been here, of course, have you? We left it be out of respect to your Uncles after what happened."

Ron watched them emerge into the great hall with fury burning in his eyes. He had spent the last couple of months being loved and adored by his mother for the first time in his life. He glared at his elder brother and stalked from the room, taking the steps two at a time up into the domestic wing of the castle. He stepped into his bedroom and punched the stone wall, letting out an angry yell of frustration as he did so.

He was aware of someone following him, and he wasn't surprised when Lavender walked into his chambers, "Ron, are you okay-"

With a growl, Ron spun around and pushed her against the cold, stone wall, gripping her by her ponytail and pressing his mouth against hers. She hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs. The gasp that left her mouth turned to condensation because of how cold the room was.

Ron let go for long enough to push her cloak from her shoulders then he shoved her roughly onto the bed. Despite how many fires they lit, the castle was cold, so taking layers of clothing off was never on anyone's minds.

Ignoring the uncertain, slightly scared look in Lavenders eyes, Ron pulled her jeans and lace panties down and freed his cock from his jeans and boxers with a groan. He crashed his lips against hers once more, kissing her hard enough that he knew he would leave bruises on her lips, and he didn't really care that she would have to glamour up to hide them. He rubbed his cock against her clit, making her gasp into his mouth.

Ron was so wound up, he was so pissed off, fuelled by only anger and bitterness and a need for revenge. He couldn't walk out of this castle and kill Harry Potter like he wanted to, but he could fuck Lavender into the bed until she screamed, and yeah, he would feel a little bad about it for a couple of days afterwards, but the stupid girl kept coming into his bedroom so what did she expect?

Without another thought, Ron pulled his lips away from Lavenders and flipped her over. He grabbed his aching cock and thrust it into her with a groan. Grabbing her by the hips and gripping her tight enough to leave her with bruises, Ron thrust into her as hard as he could. She whimpered at his touch, and he moved into her again, groaning loudly as he felt the tension in his body begin to ebb away.

Ron cursed and called her all sorts of disgusting, derogatory names. But because he had forced Lavender face down on his bed, he couldn't see the tears that stained her cheeks as he pounded into her with all the force that he could. Her whimpers turned to cries and then to borderline screams that Ron muted by pressing her face down into the pillow.

The only time he said her name was when he was cumming, thrusting into her so hard that it hurt her stomach. He groaned and pulled out of her, casting a quick Scourgify and pulling his jeans back up as quickly as he could.

Lavender reached for her wand and cast a shaky cleaning charm then pulled her own jeans up, wiping her owns and getting to her feet shakily. Ron looked away from her, walking over to the slit in the wall that passed as a window and squaring his shoulders.

Lavender didn't say anything and Ron didn't turn around until he heard the heavy wooden door swing shut behind her.

In the room next door, Dean was sitting on his bed. His knees were drawn up, and he looked tired. Lavenders cries and shouts had been bleeding through the thick castle walls, and it was infuriating his room-mate.

"The bastard's doing it again," Seamus muttered angrily.

"She goes in there voluntarily, Seamus," Dean said quietly, "It's not like he's…you know?"

"Not like he's raping her?" Seamus spat, "Cause it sure as hell fucking sounds like he is!"

Dean leant back, resting his head against the cold wall.

Seamus kicked the wall irritably and shook his head, "What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"What's wrong with the world?" Dean countered, his bloodshot eyes meeting his best friends.

Seamus threw up a silencing charm and sat down on the edge of Dean's bed, "What's going on with you?"

Dean sighed and looked away from Seamus, "I went to the Ministry. I did what they asked, gave them all my data, let them take my blood."

Seamus frowned, "If you did what they asked, why are you on the run?"

"I'm not," Dean replied, "I could go back to Hogwarts if I want to, I just wasn't sure if I wanted to by the time you found me."

"I'm sorry I didn't come looking for you sooner," Seamus said, he looked at their hands which were resting next to each other on the bed, "I thought you'd come back to school and then you didn't and I didn't know how to just up sticks and-"

Dean put his hand on top of Seamus's, "It's fine. I'm sorry that I didn't come back to school, I just thought it was a trick. I…growing up with Muggles, learning Muggle history-" he shook his head.

"What?" Seamus asked, "You can tell me, whatever it is."

Dean let his head rest against the wall once more, his hand slipping off of Seamus's, "Part of me thought they were luring Muggle-borns back to Hogwarts to get us all in one place then they'd shove us in a gas chamber."

Seamus, having a Muggle father, knew what he was referring to. He nodded, "Yeah, I get that, Dean."

Dean still had his eyes shut, and for a moment, they fell silent.

"When I went to the Ministry, I found out that I'm a half-blood," Dean confessed, opening his eyes to look at Seamus, "I knew it was an option, you know, growing up not knowing my Dad and all?"

Seamus nodded.

"He was a McKinnon, that's all I know," Dean said, looking up at the roof, "So whoever he was, he's dead. You-Know-Who and his followers wiped out the whole family in the first war."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean shook his head, "It doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore, Seamus. We've lost this war, that's what they were really saying in that meeting earlier."

"We're gonna be okay," Seamus said, "We're the good guys, and everyone knows that the good guys always win."

"The good guys don't always win," Dean argued, his dark eyes boring into Seamus's, "And are we really the good guys? What makes Ron any better than Harry?"

"Harry killed Lavender's Uncle-"

"Yeah for abusing a teenage girl," Dean remarked, "And now he's fucking Lavender like she's a sex worker, and worse, she's letting him."

Seamus's eyes flashed, not with anger but with recognition. Dean knew his best friend like the back of his hand, deep down, he knew that Seamus felt the same.

"You said when you left Hogwarts, even Ginny was talking with Harry," Dean said, "Ginny wouldn't do that if Harry were the bad guy."

"Yeah and now she's having some meltdown, nobody has seen her for days," Seamus muttered, pushing himself off of the bed, "And I should never have brought her name into this cause you'd agree with anything she did."

"Seamus, don't start this again, I know you never liked Ginny but-"

"But what? You're going to stalk into Hogwarts and take your chances with Harry and his pet Basilisk just because your ex-girlfriend doesn't hate him? Are you for fucking real?" Seamus snapped, spinning around to glare at Dean.

"I trust her judgement," Dean countered, pushing himself up irritably.

"And what about mine?" Seamus barked.

Dean frowned, "Of course I trust your judgement. You're my best friend."

Seamus laughed humourlessly and looked away, "Yeah, I'm your best friend," he agreed.

Deans frown deepened, "What the hell is this about, Seamus?"

Seamus turned around and looked at Dean like he was mad, "What's this about? Are you really that blind, Dean?"

Before Dean had a chance to get pissed off about the insult, Seamus took a step forward and brushed his lips against Deans, keeping his eyes open so he could gauge the expression on his best friends face.

Dean's eyes widened and flooded with realisation. Instantly, he closed the gap and pressed his lips against his friends. Seamus's body relaxed, and he instinctively tilted his head up as Dean deepened the kiss, pulling the shorter man against him and looping his hand around the back of Seamus's neck.

It was different, to feel soft stubble against lips and cheeks, to kiss chapped, rough lips that weren't coated in lip gloss. But neither of them cared that much as Dean walked backwards until the back of his legs hit the bed. He leant back, pulling Seamus with them until they tumbled to the bed messily, both laughing as they did so.

Dean rolled onto his side and kissed Seamus again, harder this time and with more urgency. Seamus stifled a groan against his lips as he edged closer to Dean, causing their hard cocks to brush together through the thick fabric of their jeans.

Seamus was the one who realised what they were doing and chickened out first. He broke the kiss and tried to pull away from Dean, but the taller boy wouldn't let him. He gripped Seamus by the wrist and kept him flush against his body.

"Dean, I-"

"For warmth, if nothing else," Dean said, his voice was soft and quiet again – the comforting, calm tone that Seamus had always known.

Seamus stopped trying to pull away with a nod, and although Dean loosened his grip on his wrist, he didn't let go.

* TBC *