August 4th, 1995
Charlie's feet landed on the hard dirt at the bottom of the hill and he stared up at the mountain range, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air before lighting a cigarette. He was home again, but the sinking feeling in his gut made the journey up the hill feel more like a dead man's walk.
The first kick had been Bill's blatant warning to stay away from Mary. "Just stay away from her, Charlie. Whatever you have going on with her; bury it. It won't end well. I promise you that."
The second kick had come from Rolf. Eyes wide, he'd stepped out of the Floo, pulling Saphira from Charlie's arms. "I just got the owl. How's Mary? What happened?"
The third and final blow had come from his little sister, a smirk on her face as Rolf raced up the stairs. "I told you that you'd muck things up."
Taking a last drag off the cigarette, Charlie tossed it into the bucket outside his tent and went to grab his gear. There was no sense in trying to sleep. His mind wouldn't allow him the reprieve. Not now. Not when he didn't know how she was. It was safer with the dragons. And the hatchlings would likely need to be fed soon. Pulling on his warmest cloak, Charlie went to the nursery, trying to focus on his work.
Anita walked past, handing him a bucket of blood. "One of these days, Henry is going to stop having sympathy for your dumb arse and you'll be forced to take all of that vacation time you keep avoiding."
"If I stay home that long, Mum will have me as bald, as well, you ." Charlie looked up at her with a grin.
Anita's lips twitched, but her hands were full so she was forced to keep at her task of preparing the hatchlings' morning meal. "We all heard about the attack. Did you lose anyone?"
Charlie shook his head. "A few acquaintances, and my brother's friend lost his parents and grandmother. Did you see the Prophet?"
"The night shift nearly shat themselves over the photo." Anita nodded. "Henry doubled the patrols on the perimeter. There hasn't been another break-in, but he's not taking any chances with so many dragons in one place."
"Good," Charlie said, pulling Bonny out of her crate.
"Given your forlorn attitude, I'm guessing you didn't have the bollocks to talk to Potter?"
"There wasn't much time," Charlie said without looking up. "She didn't even get to cut her cake."
"Is it true that she used dark arts to put the fire out?" Anita asked quietly.
"MJ's not dark," Charlie bit out.
Anita leaned back, a satisfied grin on her face. "I didn't say that she was."
Charlie let out a groan. "She's in a coma. I had every intention of talking to her, but she collapsed not long after I got her home. And Scamander - her boyfriend - didn't seem thrilled about me sticking around."
"Is she going to be okay?" Anita asked, handing him a bottle. "What happened?"
"Magical exhaustion according to the Healers." Charlie looked down at the tiny dragon. "She, um, had a really high fever. I thought I was going to lose her."
"And you just left, not knowing if she'd be okay?" Anita shot him an odd look.
"Her godfathers, healers and boyfriend were there. Not much I could do. This is where I'm needed."
"That's not like you." Anita stood and slapped him hard on the shoulder. "The good things in life are worth fighting for, Charlie."
Mary blinked at the bright lights, burying her head under the covers. Throat dry, and body feeling like it was made out of lead, she let out a yawn and curled up. A quiet chirp pulled her from her daze and the blankets rustled, a small head poking in the gap.
"Morning, Saphira," Mary said, pulling her closer. "What have I missed?"
Saphira chirped loudly, nudging Mary with her nose in a way that demanded she get up and pay more attention to her. With the memories of the night before rushing back to her, that was the last thing she wanted to do, or face.
"Mary?" Sirius called out, a slight stutter in his voice.
Mary weakly peeled back the blanket. "Hey, Siri."
"How are you feeling?" Sirius asked, hovering over her.
"Thirsty," Mary rasped out.
Sirius walked out of her view and returned with a small glass of water. Mary pushed herself upright, accepting the glass and took a few small sips. An odd smell floated around her and Mary scrunched up her nose, looking from Sirius, to Remus, and then to Saphira.
Her heart sank. "How long have I been asleep and why do you look like I stepped on your tail?"
"What do you remember?" Sirius asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Mary tilted her head. "My birthday. St. Mungos. Charlie brought me home. I wasn't feeling that great."
Sirius scrubbed at his face. "Good. That's good."
"What happened?" Mary sat up straighter.
"Nothing past that," Sirius said, standing up. "You've been out of it for almost four days."
"Four days?" Mary repeated, her mind spinning.
"Your fever was higher than Andy and Severus could handle with the potions we had on hand," Remus said. "We've just been worried."
"I'm fine," Mary said quietly. "Though I'd really like a shower. And, um, you stink, Siri."
"You're one to talk, kiddo," Sirius said, a shadowed smile on his face. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm starving, and I'd feel better if I didn't smell like smoke and burnt hair." Mary moved to the edge of her bed and stretched out, realizing she was still wearing the dress from her party. "I'll be down shortly to help with breakfast."
"Dinner," Remus corrected her. "It's nearly seven."
"Dinner, yeah." Mary nodded.
"I'll take little miss Sassy," Sirius said with a grin, picking up Saphira.
Saphira let out a chirp, climbing her way up Sirius' shoulder and letting out a small squawk as Sirius closed the door behind him. Mary let out a breath, an odd feeling rushing through her. She looked down at her arm, rubbing at the huge raised scars, but the perpetual ache wasn't there. Rubbing at her forehead, she realized that even Voldemort's phantom anger and the residual headache were so far back that she almost didn't feel it.
Methodically, she showered and changed, walking back out to find that Kreacher had already replaced her bedding, leaving the scent of fresh laundry lingering in the air. The only thing out of place in her room was the lone leather jacket hanging off the back of her chair. Her fingers ran across the supple leather, but she didn't stop, going downstairs as she'd promised.
A laugh came from the theatre room and Mary paused, pushing the door open the rest of the way. Neville and Daphne sat together on the couch, watching an animated film on the massive screen.
"Mary!" Neville shot to his feet and pulled her into a hug. "You're awake!"
Mary closed her eyes. "Are you okay, Nev?"
Neville pulled back, meeting her eyes. "Better now that you're up and about. Next time you try to escape to fight him , you better take the rest of us with you."
Mary nodded, unable to smile back. "How about you, Daphne?"
"Mr. Black has been very kind," Daphne said with a nod. "Are you sure you're okay, Potter? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Just myself in the mirror." Mary shrugged. "Sirius is supposed to have dinner ready. Care to join me?"
"Gods, I hope he's showered." Daphne shuddered. "It was starting to smell like a wet dog up there."
Neville let out a small laugh and Mary smiled, but everything felt unbalanced somehow. Not quite wrong, but odd, like she wasn't in her own skin. The feeling lingered all through dinner, while Sirius made cheerful smalltalk and Saphira loped around on the floor playing with a plush toy.
The Daily Prophet sat in the middle of the table, face down, and Mary pulled it closer, flipping it over and examining the headlines.
He Who Must Not Be Named
RETURNS WITH FULL SCALE ATTACK ON ST. MUNGOS.
"Mary, don't," Remus said, reaching forward, but Mary didn't budge.
There in plain view, Voldemort walked away with a sly smile on his face while St. Mungos burned in the background. Eighty-Seven. The final death toll. Mary turned to the right page, her fingers trailing over the list of names, memorizing each one. After the dead were posthumously honored, another article added on to it by quoting eyewitness accounts.
"It was Potter's doin', I'd bet my last sickle on that. She put a target on the hospital with that auction. And guess what, not even two days later St. Mungos' is attacked!"
Mary closed the paper and put it back on the table, going back to her meal while the names of the dead spun around in her mind. Gathering her empty dishes, Mary went to the sink just as the fireplace lit up and Rolf stepped out, running a hand through his hair.
"Mary," he whispered, moving to her side and pulling her into his arms. "You've had me so worried. How are you?"
"I"m fine," Mary said with a sigh.
Rolf kissed the top of her head. "You're lying, but I'm just glad you're awake."
Saphira chirped, sliding across the floor and staring up at them with her big blue eyes. " Muh."
"Saphira?" Mary knelt down and picked her up. "Did you just- talk?"
"Muhmuh!" Saphira repeated, leaning her head into Mary's neck.
Rolf put his arm around her, leaning in closer. "What are you telling her?"
"She can talk," Mary said in shock. "I thought she could only understand Parseltongue, I didn't know she could actually learn to talk back!"
"Really?" Rolf ran a hand down Saphira's back. "What is she saying?"
"'Muh' over and over again," Mary said quickly. "I don't know what it means, but isn't she brilliant?"
Rolf chuckled. "She knows her mum when she sees her. Right, Saphira?"
" Muh! " Saphira chirped.
"What's got Sassy all riled up?" Sirius asked, walking into the kitchen and giving her and Rolf a sharp look.
"She's talking!" Mary laughed, taking the plates with her free hand.
Sirius' pale eyes met hers, and she could see something akin to relief there. "That's good. Good girl, Sassy."
Mary called her wand to her hand and the air crackled, making the cabinets rattle loudly. "What the-"
Sirius put a hand on her arm. "Dumbledore removed all of the traces of the Cuff from you. Your magic might not be what it once was."
"Oh." Mary breathed. "So I can't use magic?"
"See how it works," Remus said, leaning on the far wall.
Mary pointed her wand at the sink full of dishes and cast a simple soap charm. At first, all went as expected. The suds filled the sink and coated the pots and pans. But it didn't stop. The soap bubbled over the edge of the sink and onto the wood floor.
" Finite!" Sirius cast quickly.
Nothing happened.
" Finite!" Mary cast quickly, causing all of the soap to disappear.
It also caused whatever magic was holding the plumbing together to give way, making the tap explode and spray water in every direction.
"Shit!" Mary gasped, passing Saphira to Rolf as she tried to fix it. "I don't know what to do!"
" Reparo! " Sirius cast again, to no avail. "You try, kid."
Mary waved her wand at the sink. "Reparo!"
Everything went back to the way it was before, leaving the sink and dishes all sparkling clean. Saphira chirped, struggling in Rolf's arms as she tried to reach the last of the bubbles floating through the air. Sirius stood back, an odd look in his eyes, as he surveyed the destruction caused by a few simple spells.
"No more magic until you adjust," he said with a pointed look.
"Again," Mary whispered, taking in a deep breath, feeling something wild and unbridled thrumming through her. "I'll get started in the morning."
"The funeral is tomorrow," Rolf said quietly, looking towards Neville.
"It's better if Mary isn't there," Remus said, shooting her a concerned look. "The press is having a field day with the story as it is."
Mary felt her heart clench. "I understand. It's safer for everyone else if I stay away."
"I'm not saying that," Remus said, shaking his head.
"It's the truth though. I'm dangerous." Mary lifted her shoulders, turning to Rolf. "This is your chance to distance yourself before the fallout. No hard feelings."
"There's nothing that rag could publish that would make me think any less of you," Rolf said with a smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "I'm not scared of bad publicity or Voldemort."
"You kids go upstairs and watch a film or something," Sirius said, scrubbing at his face. "Don't stay up too late. Rolf, I'll have the elves get the guest room ready if you'd like to stay."
"I'd appreciate that, Mr. Black," Rolf said.
Mary went upstairs with the others, wanting nothing more to go outside and start practicing, but there would be time for that later. For now, she needed to know that Daphne and Neville were okay. They'd both lost so much over the past few days.
The film played on the screen, but Mary barely paid it any mind. Instead she played quietly with Saphira, talking to her and trying to get her to talk more.
"That was thrilling," Rolf said, watching as the credits rolled. "Think we should wake them up."
Mary turned her head to see that Daphne and Neville had both fallen asleep, cuddled up together on the couch. "Let them sleep," she said, standing and pulling a blanket over them while Rolf turned off the projector and lights.
Saphira slept peacefully in her arms while Mary followed Rolf out, closing the door behind them. The rest of the house was similarly quiet and Mary looked down at her cheap watch. Just after two in the morning, but she was nowhere near the point when sleep would come naturally.
"I guess I'll leave you here," Rolf said, stopping on the third floor landing.
Mary held out her hand. "Come up to the roof with me?"
Rolf hesitated for a moment, but nodded, grabbing her hand and putting the other around her. "Are you sure you feel alright? You should probably go straight to bed."
Mary met his eyes. "Sleep is the last thing I want right now."
Eight seven deaths. Eighty seven. The number circled in her mind over and over again. Augusta Longbottom. Healer Strout. Frank Longbottom. Alice Longbottom. Gilderoy Lockhart.
Mary grabbed the railing as a hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat. Poor Lockhart.
"It's a shame I wasn't in my right mind, I know the exact spell to defeat a dark lord," Mary said, mimicking Lockhart's confident façade.
"Mary?" Rolf pulled her closer. "What are you talking about?"
Mary opened the door to her room and leaned heavily against the wall, grateful when Rolf pulled Saphira from her arms. Mary scrambled to stand, grabbing the railing again to take the spiral staircase up to the roof. With a twitch of her hand, a bottle of the expensive rum zoomed toward her. Catching it and stumbling to the couch, Mary pulled the cork from the bottle and took a long drink, letting it burn its way down her throat.
Feeling. That's what she was missing. It was such an odd desire. After years of feeling too much, all she felt now was numb. An absence of everything. Another failure in her book. Eighty seven more deaths to add to the total. And once again, she would have to start over. Two years of practicing and perfecting her wandwork and it was all for nothing. All to do it over again . Start from the beginning, spell by spell, until she was proficient enough to face Tom on the battlefield.
Mary leaned her head back, taking another long drink. She let the bottle rest at her side as she stared up into the thick clouds. I've started over time and time again. She thought. There's no reason to give up now. Not when he's so close to being mortal.
Rolf sat down next to her, taking the bottle and putting the cork back in. "She's asleep in her crate."
"Thank you," Mary said, tilting her head toward him. "For everything. Bringing Saphira here and staying."
Rolf lifted his hand and touched the side of her face. "It's all worth it for another minute with you."
Mary grinned at the cheesy line, but didn't stop him when he moved to kiss her. "You'll regret the day you met me, Rolf Scamander. Everyone does."
"Not a chance," he whispered against her lips.
Sirius
"Morning," Mary said early the next morning.
"Morning," Sirius replied, watching as Mary moved around the kitchen with Dobby and Kreacher at her sides. "What's for breakfast?"
"Eggs, toast, bangers." Mary shrugged. "Nothing heavy."
Her tone was off, not quite subdued, but just odd. Sirius accepted the cup of tea and plate with a smile, but he couldn't eat more than a few bites. Nerves on end, he pushed his plate away just as Neville walked in wearing his black suit. Mary gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheek, putting a plate and cup of tea in front of him.
"'Lo," Neville said quietly.
"Is Daphne not up yet?" Sirius asked, knowing the two usually came to breakfast together.
Neville blushed. "She should be down soon."
Sirius nodded and was grateful when the owl flew in with the paper. That feeling was short lived when he saw the headline.
Mary Potter: Darling or Dangerous?
Mary Potter, age 15, known to the Wizarding World as the Girl Who Lived and our Triwizard Champion. But is she really all that she's cracked up to be?
On the warm night of July 31st, multiple terrified witnesses attest to the fact that young Mary used dark arts at St. Mungo's, possibly hindering the rescue of those trapped inside the demolished building. Shocked onlookers watched as the girl manipulated the smoke and flames, leaving the building in a sorry state, leaving the rest to scramble for cover as the building crumbled around them.
It leaves this reporter to wonder what Mary Potter's intentions really are.
Is she our savior, or our doom in the upcoming fight against the recently revived dark lord?
More on page 13.
"I'm going to kill Barnabus." Sirius bit out, crumpling the paper in his fist.
"What is it?" Mary pulled the paper from his grasp, her eyes travelling over the page, without so much as a flinch, she handed it back to him and turned away. "Would you like more tea, Nev?"
"I can't handle anymore right now," Neville replied, staring down at his untouched plate of food.
Mary put her hand on Neville's shoulder and nodded. "Just let me know if you need anything."
Sirius felt his hackles raise at her lack of response to the article. He expected her to rant and rave over the blatant lies. An outburst of some sort. Not this stoic nonsense. Instead, she finished washing the dishes, blowing bubbles for Saphira, before going back up to her room.
"It's not like her, Remus," Sirius said as soon as Mary and Neville were back upstairs. "Our Mary would stand her ground, kicking and screaming, that she was going to the funeral. She'd be hell bent on finding this Betty Braithwaite and hexing the shit out of her."
"She's still our Mary," Remus replied. "Don't let Dumbledore's words influence you, Padfoot."
Sirius grabbed the bottle of firewhisky and poured himself a large glass. "She's different."
Not even last week, Mary would flinch or jump at every loud noise, constantly looking over her shoulder. She was wary, cautious, almost painfully so. A quick hug and then she'd back away, uncomfortable with anyone getting too close. But now, she was unfazed. Cold even.
Remus pulled the glass away before he could take the first sip, dumping the firewhiskey in the sink. "Mary's handling things as best as she can. The last thing she needs to worry about is you drinking yourself into a stupor. Suck it up, Sirius. Today we're going to honor Frank, Alice, and Augusta. This isn't about you, or even Mary. We're going out there for our friends."
"I should probably stay back." Sirius shook his head. "Just in case she has a bad reaction to Dumbledore's spell."
Remus grabbed his arm. "It's your first funeral. I understand, Sirius, I really do. But there's no avoiding it. It will be okay."
As always, Remus saw right through him. He refused to attend the elder Potters' funeral. Hell, he hadn't even shown up at his father's. Funerals weren't the type of gatherings that he felt comfortable with.
Tonks walked down the stairs, her hair a pale white as she moved to Remus' side, putting her arm around him. "Wotcher, Sirius."
"Tonks," he said with a sigh.
"All ready, Nev?" Tonks asked when the young boy walked back into the room.
Neville nodded, his head held high. "I'm ready."
Sirius put a hand on his shoulder, reaching for the portkey. "We're here for you, son."
Mary set the device on the far end of the dueling platform, tapping it with her wand. It sparked and sizzled, making her back away as a few rogue stinging hexes flew past her.
"Maybe you should start with the basics," Rolf said, a worried look in his eyes.
Daphne sat beside him, holding a bottle for Saphira. "Potter's got this."
Mary turned to where the stinging hexes had bounced off the wards and landed, leaving nothing but a ping pong ball that disappeared within a few seconds. They were small, harmless really, and she saw no harm in setting the device to its highest speed. If she was going to get her magic back under control, there was no need to start from the bottom.
"Go!" Mary shouted, holding her wands out.
Even though they were all stinging hexes, the device shot out multi-colored lights that signified their strength. Mary ducked, dodged and shielded the best as she could, gradually increasing the strength until it shot out baseballs with stinging hexes that felt like a mild Cruciatus.
Mary dodged the third yellow spell, shielded herself from the red one, and dove to the ground as the green one flew overhead. She shot a spell at the device, but it only sped up, shooting hexes at an alarming rate. One hit her in the side and she gasped, stumbling into another. The third hit her shoulder and she lurched back, the sharp pain alighting something that motivated her even more. Anger outweighing all sensibility, Mary holstered her wands and held up her hands, blocking the spells wandlessly until she was able to kneel in front of the device and shut it off.
"Not bad, Potter," Daphne said, yawning widely. "Took you long enough though."
"For what?" Mary limped off the dueling platform. "To get my ass handed to me for the third time?"
"No, you idiot, to understand that you don't always need to have a wand. You're Mary Potter. Rules don't apply. Not normal ones anyway." Daphne sniffed and went back inside the house with Saphira, leaving Mary standing there, not only hurt, but feeling like a complete imbecile.
"Let's get you inside," Rolf said with a grimace, stepping to her side. "Do you need me to Floo someone?"
"She's effing right." Mary stared at the door, mouth gaping open. "I'm not normal."
"She didn't mean that," Rolf said, putting an arm around her.
"Daphne doesn't say anything she doesn't mean." Mary turned to him, her head still spinning with the revelation.
Nothing about her life had ever been normal. All this time she had focused on having a normal life and being a normal witch was wasted. Because she wasn't that. She wasn't what everyone wanted her to be. She wasn't even who she wanted to be. She was just Mary. Failures, fuckery, and all.
A laugh bubbled up and she leaned heavily on Rolf's side as he guided her back to the house. Somehow, it made it all better. Stupid as it sounded. There was no need to conform to the conventional rules of what was expected of her. All she really needed was to be herself. That gave her a power that no one could take away. Not even Voldemort.
Rolf walked out of her bathroom moments later holding a tub of the blue healing paste, but Mary held up a hand to stop him. "I'm going to do something stupid, so I need you to be on standby if it looks like I'm dying."
"I'd rather you not do anything stupid," Rolf said, sitting next to her on the bed.
Mary held her hand against her bruised ribs, letting the magic flow through her. "Ow shit, okay that hurts more than the real spell."
"Then stop!" Rolf shouted, grabbing her wrist.
Mary pulled away. "It works though."
She lifted up her shirt slightly, showing that her lower back was no longer an angry purple. The injuries were fading, looking more like they were days old. There was no spell or incantation. All she had to do was focus on what she wanted her magic to do. It wasn't perfect. Not by far. But it was better than the alternative.
Saphira chirped and climbed up onto Mary's shoulder. "MuhMuh!"
"You're going to fall, Little One," Mary said to her.
"Down we go," Rolf said, picking up Saphira and putting her on the floor where she pouted. "Some of these still look pretty bad."
"Well, I lack the skill to properly reach that part of my back." Mary quipped, trying and failing to contort her arms in a useful way.
Rolf rolled his eyes and took the jar from her hands. "Move your hair."
Mary pulled her hair to the side and grimaced as Rolf gently rubbed the bruise salve into her shoulder.
Rolf blinked, reaching out to gently touch her side. "You're amazing, you know that, right?"
"Not the word I'd use," Mary said with a wry grin. "But this is it, Rolf. This is the start."
"The start of what?" Rolf asked, grasping her hand lightly.
"Victory," Mary said with a laugh.
Bill stood at the back of the grand ballroom in Longbottom Manor, watching as the line of witches and wizards made their way to the front to pay their respects. Neville was at the front of the queue followed by a stooped older wizard that had to be his Uncle Algie. It was no wonder that the man hadn't put up a fight when Dumbledore suggested Neville would be safest at Headquarters. Algie didn't seem capable of holding a wand, let alone defending Neville or himself if the need arose.
"Your muzz- mother is glaring at me," Fleur whispered, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Bill tilted his head to the front row, meeting his mother's gaze and smiling slightly. "She'll warm up to you eventually. You did steal her firstborn, after all."
"She weel never 'warm up' to me if she refuses to let me visit your home," Fleur argued quietly.
He held back a grimace at the hurt in her voice. It was true that his mother rejected his offer each time he would mention bringing Fleur by the Burrow. Even at Order meetings, on neutral ground, his mother refused to say more than two words to Fleur. It pained him to see the two women he cared most about so clearly at odds, but there was nothing he could do but stand firm that his mother's actions weren't warranted or appreciated.
"I'm going out to the greenhouse," Neville said, wiping at his face as he passed by them.
"I weel go with you," Fleur said, letting go of Bill's arm and moving to Neville's side.
Neville nodded as though he barely registered her presence and Bill felt his heart sink in sympathy. He walked them to the door, scanning the grounds for any sign of danger before moving aside.
"Stay within the wards," Bill said to Fleur. "Use your card if you need me for anything."
Fleur nodded, handing Neville a handkerchief as they walked out into the light drizzle. Bill waited until they were out of sight before he closed the door again, going back to his assigned duty of guarding the door.
Sirius, followed by Remus and Tonks, went to the front, lightly touching each of the three caskets before making his way down the aisle and going straight for the kitchen, a haunted look in his eyes. There was no question that he'd spend the rest of the service and wake in there with a bottle of firewhiskey. Bill couldn't exactly blame him for that.
Remus let out a breath, his grip on Tonks tightening. "Did Neville pass by?"
Bill nodded. "He's showing Fleur around the greenhouses. She'll watch out for him."
"And Sirius?" Tonks asked, a knowing look in her amber eyes.
Remus let out a snort before Bill could speak. "I'll go make sure he doesn't get drunk and make a fool of himself."
"Wouldn't be the first time," Tonks said with a small grin. "I've got to make my rounds and check that Mad Eye hasn't hexed Fleur and Neville into a puddle."
Bill checked his watch. "I'll send out the rest if you don't check in by half six."
"Aye," Tonks saluted him, kissing Remus on the cheek before they both walked their separate ways.
McGonagall was the next to walking around, eyes red rimmed and handkerchief held to her mouth. "Is all well, William?"
"No signs of disturbances," Bill said, clasping his hands in front of him. "Are you well, Professor?"
"I've buried too many of my students." McGonagall sniffed, standing straighter and meeting his eyes. "Has there been any word from Gringotts?"
"We're getting closer to an agreement with the Vault manager," Bill said quietly. "On the other front, things aren't turning out so well."
McGonagall took in a shuddering breath. "I can't bear the thought of standing by while she walks to her death. We have to find a way around it."
"I'm not going to give up." Bill promised. "We'll find a way."
"Good," McGonagall said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Just be warned that she will not stop until the task is completed. Even if she has to go beyond the law. I daresay she wasn't joking when she mentioned breaking in."
"I'll keep that in mind." Bill nodded shortly as McGonagall walked to the dining hall.
That was his biggest worry of late. With Mary's penchant for impulsive acts, there would be little warning if she chose to break into the Lestrange Vault. And with Ragnok and his interest in destroying the Horcrux within becoming a project that they'd brought more goblins into, he feared that they'd all face the consequences if Mary was to take matters into her own hands.
On the other side of the spectrum, he feared what would happen if they allowed Voldemort to stay immortal for much longer. The death toll was already rising and the Wizarding World was facing its darkest time in fourteen years.
"We're going home, son," his father said, patting him on the shoulder. "Will we see you for dinner?"
"I have plans tonight," Bill said easily.
"Don't stay out late," his mother said. "You have work in the morning and there's no sense in you losing your position over minor distractions."
Bill took in a deep breath. "That's no worry. I actually planned to stay over at Fleur's place and go in to work with her."
His mother opened her mouth to argue, but was stopped by Dad's hand on her shoulder. "Come along, Molly dear. This isn't the time or place for a discussion of this- magnitude."
"Be safe, William," his mother said through clenched teeth. "Come along, children."
His brothers had the sense not to speak as they walked by with sympathetic looks, but Ginny had no compulsion to do the same, glaring at him as she followed them to the main fireplace.
Not ten minutes after they left, Fleur and Neville walked back in with Tonks, Moody, and Chiara.
"I'll take your shift here, Weasley." Mad Eye stomped his cane. "Get Longbottom back to Headquarters."
"Is everything okay?" Bill asked, looking from Moody to Fleur.
"Not a peep or sign of attack," Moody said quietly. "But it'd be stupid to keep Longbottom here any longer. Best to get him somewhere safe where there aren't so many people milling around."
"We've got this, Mad Eye," Tonks said, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. "Come along, Neville. I'm sure you want to get those plants back in the dirt."
Ten minutes later they were back at Grimmauld Place. Tonks and Remus went upstairs, while Sirius was at the table sipping Firewhiskey and talking to Neville about Frank and Alice.
"Shall we go back to my place, monsieur Weasley?" Fleur tilted her head up toward him.
"Yeah," Bill said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head.
Sirius
"Are you sure it's no trouble housing Longbottom until we find another alternative?" Minnie asked as they walked up the spiral staircase to Mary's room.
Sirius paused, turning to her. "This is his home as long as he wants to be here. Same for Daphne and Astoria if she chooses to return home."
"I'm proud of you, Black." Minnie patted his arm. "Not only for taking them in, but for how you've cared for Mary."
"I could do better." Sirius rubbed at his face. "The other kids are a joy to watch over. Mary though-"
"Isn't a child any longer." Minnie finished for him. "It's a big adjustment for all of us."
"Not for her," Sirius muttered under his breath. "I'm serious, Minnie. She's scaring me. Twice she's escaped and ran straight to danger. The last time was literally in front of my eyes."
"Potter's stronger than you think." Minnie shot him a pointed look. "Not magically speaking, although I daresay she is that. She has good instincts and a very tactical view on life. We'd be hard pressed to find a better fighter to be the Vanguard in this war."
"I don't want her in this war at all, let alone leading the charge." Sirius bit out, walking up a few more steps.
Minnie let out a breath. "How is she?"
"Andy and Severus are supposed to check in on her tomorrow, but for all that I can see, she's healthy. No sign of the fever returning."
"And the effects of the Cuff?" Minnie asked.
"Her magic is wild. She overpowers even the simplest spells."
"Potter is resilient, she'll get through this."
Sirius checked his watch. It was just after nine in the evening. He expected to find her cooking downstairs or playing with Saphira, but the door to her room was wide open, soft snores filling the air. He moved around the corner, hoping not to disturb her, but froze in the doorway.
Rolf was cuddled up with Mary on the bed, Saphira sleeping on the pillow between them. The wand in his hand twitched with the urge to hex the young man into a puddle, but a hand on his arm stopped him.
"Don't wake her," Minnie whispered, tugging on his sleeve.
"I can't just let this slide," Sirius hissed.
"I daresay I've walked in on far worse when you were at school."
"This isn't Hogwarts. This is her home. She just turned fifteen. He's far too old for her."
"Rolf is a kind young man and one of my finest students. He would never compromise Mary's honor or harm her in any way," Minerva said, closing the door behind them. "And Mary isn't fifteen. Not anymore. In fact I'd say that she's older than him both physically and in maturity."
"I still don't like it. They barely know each other. He has no idea what she's been through."
"And you can't see how that would appeal to Mary? The prospect of a friendship, dare I say, relationship, that isn't based on her fame. But one that is out of mutual care for a small helpless creature."
"He's a pretty boy. I know what they're like. They don't care about breaking hearts."
"No, I do remember the long line of distraught young witches that you left in your wake. Rolf isn't you, Sirius. While being one of the most handsome and popular boys in his year, he had one steady girlfriend and politely declined all other advances."
"Yeah, well look how that turned out. He's sleeping in my little girl's bed."
"We've been searching for a way to break Mary out of the melancholy that she's in. Have you considered that this may be what she needs? All of her yearmates have several relationships under their belt by now and she has nothing. She's pushed away every prospective relationship. If you force her to end this, or try to butt in, it will only prove to Mary that she was right all along and that she isn't deserving of a normal life."
"Is there an option that doesn't involve boys or dating?"
Minerva stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "Yes, but that option only comes when she fulfills the Prophecy."
A shudder ran through him, making his blood go cold at the thought. He wouldn't lose her. And he didn't care what he'd have to do to prevent it.