It was a Tuesday like any other. I spent the morning continuing inventory for Mr. Mulpepper, taking stock of what we needed more of on the floor, any ingredients we needed to order, and any mail orders that I needed to send with the shop's parliament of owls before the end of the day. I hoped to use the mirror when I got home to speak to Fred and see how his first day back at school was, the thought brightening up my busy day every so often.

I was pouring over a cauldron of Pepperup Potion around eleven when Mr. Mulpepper burst into the shop, his normal pale and gaunt face even paler, his eyes bulging out of his face. He looked unwell, and I dropped what I was doing to rush over to help him collect himself.

"Sir, are you alright?" I asked, trying to keep myself calm at the sight of my boss in an apparent state of panic. I helped him take his cloak off and hung it on the door and noticed that morning's Daily Prophet in his trembling hands. He looked down at me, the smile he usually greeted me with completely gone from his face. There was only fear and anger there, and it unsettled.

"I take it you haven't seen this morning's paper, my dear," he said gravely, striding over to the register and tossing the newspaper down in front of us. I unfolded it hastily and nearly collapsed when I read the headline:

MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN

MINISTER FEARS BLACK IS "RALLYING POINT" FOR FORMER DEATH EATERS

I gulped, trying to collect myself upon seeing Sirius's name sharing space with the most violent followers of You-Know-Who. My eyes traveled down the page to read the article, as well as see who exactly had escaped.

The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.

Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening, and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals.

"We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped," said Fudge last night. "Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached."

I looked back up at the photograph splashed across the front page. My aunt – Bellatrix Lestrange – looking almost inhuman as she smirked at the camera, her soulless eyes and razor-sharp cheekbones sending the deepest chill down my spine. From what I remembered of her, she used to be beautiful, but the decades in prison – and her own depravity – had now made her ugly on the outside as well as inside. Next to her photograph, nine smaller ones showed the remaining Death Eaters who'd escaped along with her; some were jeering, some were staring blankly, completely unaware or unremorseful for the crimes they'd committed, which were all listed below their photographs:

Antonin Dolohov; convicted of the brutal double murder of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.

My cheeks burned. Gideon and Fabian Prewett were Mrs. Weasley's older brothers, Fred's uncles who'd been brutally murdered before they could meet their nephews who shared their names.

Augustus Rookwood, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Next to him was my aunt, whose caption I hadn't bothered to read until now. Bellatrix Lestrange, it read. Convicted of the brutal torture and permanent incapacitation of the Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom.

My mind traveled back to the day in St. Mungo's, where we met Neville and his grandmother, but I brushed it aside. Next to her were her husband, Rodolphus, and his brother Rabastan, convicted of the same crimes. I kept scanning to see if I recognized any other names, until my eyes fell upon another article, detailing the mysterious death of a Ministry of Magic employee.

St. Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death. A spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement, "St. Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident.

"We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards, but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare, which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly. "St. Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward."

"My dear, are you quite alright?" Mr. Mulpepper said, bringing me out of my thoughts and back to earth. "I know it's quite a shock – I'm quite shocked myself to be frank, the Death Eaters who…well, who killed my sister and uncle escaped as well – especially since some of them are family, to you."

"They're not my family," I said, not meeting his gaze and scanning the pages of the paper obsessively. "I'm nothing like them and they're nothing like me."

"Of course not! I apologize for insinuating otherwise," he continued, backpedaling over his words. "I just thought you'd want to know. To keep yourself safe, that is."

"Thank you, sir," I finally said, giving him a thin, patient smile. "I appreciate that. I really do."

He nodded, then disappeared behind me to the back of the shop. When I went back to the cauldron full of Pepperup Potion, I couldn't focus. My hands were still shaking, my cheeks were warm, and there was a buzzing in my brain that filled my ears, invading my thoughts and keeping me from continuing work.

This was the moment the Order had been waiting for; the reason I was even told to stay in Grimmauld Place in the first place. Suddenly, without warning and without even realizing, my days of safety were more than likely over.

Mr. Mulpepper let me go home around five, an hour earlier than I usually got off work. When I turned on my heel to Disapparate outside the shop, I made sure to land firmly on the front stoop of Grimmauld Place, to ensure I could get myself inside quickly and as safely as possible.

Once inside, I whipped off my cloak and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. If I knew anything, Sirius was probably pacing about in the kitchen, worrying about the rumors that he let all those Death Eaters out of Azkaban. Of everyone I knew, Sirius Black was the least in control of his own narrative, his own life, and it was clear now more than ever that that fact terrified him more than he let on.

"Cass? That you?" I heard him say from behind the kitchen door. I pushed it open and found him and Remus sitting across from one another, their faces drained of color and their eyes swollen and red. Sirius jumped up from the table when he saw me standing there and crossed the kitchen to meet me in the threshold. He stood in front of me for just a moment before he wrapped his arms around me in a tentative, frightened hug.

Stunned, I lifted my arms to gingerly hug him back, but tightened my grip the longer he hung on. I hadn't seen a show of emotion like this from him since our chat about Cedric and grief back in July. Perhaps he felt he could let his guard down around me – another Black who understood the danger we were now in, now that the most dangerous member of our family was back out on the streets – and in a way, I was grateful.

"We hoped you'd be able to come home early," he said, pulling away and striding back to his chair across from Remus. "The Order's on their way. Dumbledore's called an emergency meeting, in light of recent events."

"Right," I said, my voice faraway and monotone, still struggling to process today's news. "I'll put some tea on. Where's Kreacher?"

"Oh, who knows," Sirius muttered. "Probably jumping for joy that his beloved Miss Bella is back. He always loved her best, next to Regulus, both blood supremacists and devoted Death Eaters- "

"Sirius," Remus cautioned gently, reaching across the table to grasp his partner's hand. "It's going to be alright."

"How can it be alright, Remus?! The Prophet's saying I'm the one behind this, and I can't come out and say otherwise because I'm technically still 'on the run,' leaving me with no control over this narrative! As if the wizarding world didn't already think me a depraved criminal, just imagine what they think now- "

"Sirius, whatever happens, Remus and I are here," I said, placing a dozen teacups and saucers on the table. "I know that probably doesn't count for much, but you've got us."

"I appreciate that Cassie, I really do. I only wish I could talk to Harry, see if he's had any more dreams or mind-invasions from You-Know- "

"Good evening, everyone," a voice called from the kitchen doorframe. Remus jolted up from his place at the table to greet Professor Dumbledore, who glided into the kitchen to sit at the head of the table. "Sirius, Miss Malfoy. I am sure that you of all people are taking today's news rather hard?"

Sirius merely grunted in reply, running his hands through his wild, black hair. I gave my former headmaster a thin smile and placed a cup of tea before him.

"Professor, what exactly are we going to do?" I asked. That was probably a childish question, but it was the most obvious one to ask. He only smiled at me from behind his half-moon glasses.

"We will talk once everyone else is here," he said, turning around slightly at the sound of the door opening. "Which, it seems, will be sooner rather than later."

I wandered down the hall to greet Moody, Emmeline, Hestia, and Tonks, who'd all just come through the door. Tonks's face was also drained of color and her eyes were just as red and swollen as Sirius's. I reached forward to wrap her up a bear hug, hanging on as tightly and for as long as I could. If anyone was going to be the most affected by the news, it would be the Tonks family.

"Mum's a mess," she said, walking down the hall with me. "She was pacing about the kitchen when I left for work this morning and was pacing even faster when I got back. Dad was casting some protective charms in the garden when I left to come here. He won't let on, but he's about as scared as she is."

"This is probably the first and only time you'll ever hear me say this," I began, "but let's hear what Dumbledore and everyone else has to say. I'm sure someone's thought this whole thing through by now."

She nodded, then wandered into the kitchen to join the others. Before I could do the same, I heard the front door slam and saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, followed by Daniel, rushing down the hall. Mrs. Weasley stopped short when she saw me and wrapped me in a hug, stroking my hair in the motherliest way possible. She put both hands on my cheeks and searched my face for some hint of emotion.

"It's all going to be alright, dear," she said, as brightly as she could. "I wish we weren't meeting again so soon under these circumstances, but it's all going to be alright."

I jerked my head quickly, trying to affirm that I believed her. As she and Arthur met up with everyone else in the kitchen, I was left to greet Daniel, whose usually floppy and thin, blonde hair was stuck to his head from the rain outside. He held out his arms for a hug, and I let myself sink into the familiar scent of coffee and cinnamon, just as I had outside St. Mungo's a few weeks back.

"So, your aunt escaped from prison," he said awkwardly. "Can't say I have any experience with that type of thing- "

"Dan, I'm going to stop you from trying to lighten the mood," I said, as jokingly as I could. "As much as I appreciate it, there's nothing you can say to make any of this better."

He nodded, letting me walk past him to rejoin the rest of the Order in the kitchen. I took a seat next to Tonks and Dan sat on my other side, squeezing my shoulder lightly as he sat down. I looked up and down the table at the somber faces before me; Mrs. Weasley's eyes downcast, Moody looking up and down the hallway for any stragglers, and Dumbledore's face serene as ever. Emmeline picked up her head to address him at the other end of the table.

"Albus, aren't we missing- "

"Severus will not be joining us tonight, Emmeline," Dumbledore cut in. "I think we're probably to begin."

I rolled my eyes, thankful that my new fringe covered my forehead and eye area sufficiently that no one would see. Snape was probably jumping for joy that his former cohorts were out of prison and ready to wreak havoc with You-Know-Who once more. Like Sirius, I didn't give a damn what Dumbledore said about him; Snape still served two masters, and probably always would.

"Now, I'm sure you've all had some time to think- "

"Panic's more like it," Sirius mumbled.

"No need for panic, Sirius," Dumbledore continued. "At least, not totally. We don't know where these escaped Death Eaters have gone, because we don't know where You-Know-Who is hiding, and what's more is that we don't know what they're planning."

"Professor, those are three perfectly good reasons to panic," I blurted out, unaware that a dozen people were staring me down as I did so. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Weasley's mouth turn upward and made a little hmpf sound in agreement with me. I turned back to see Dumbledore with his hand raised, his way of asking me to shut up and let him talk. Resigned, I slumped back in my seat and listened.

"What we need to do is be on high alert," he continued. "Guard duties are a crucial part of our operation, now more than ever. As Alastor would say, 'constant vigilance' is key."

"Albus, I'm sorry, but you can't just say that 'constant vigilance is key' and call that an appropriate response to what's happened today!" Mrs. Weasley interjected. "I'm sorry, but after Arthur's attack and what Harry saw, who knows what could happen next! We can't keep doing the same old things we've been doing, not when the stakes are very much higher now than they were then!"

"Molly, I appreciate you looking out for Harry, as you always do, but 'constant vigilance' is really all I can offer," Dumbledore continued, still apparently thinking this was an appropriate response. "Since You-Know-Who and the rest of the Death Eaters have been keeping a low profile- "

"I'd hardly call a prison break 'low profile'!" Mrs. Weasley cut in again, unable to let that go. Among the millions of things I admired about Mrs. Weasley, her ability to never blindly accept Dumbledore's canned responses to things was at the top of the list.

"All we can do is continue with our efforts. Guarding the Hall of Prophecy is even more crucial now, especially since he's increasing his numbers and his most powerful lieutenant is back at his side. If they haven't hit us yet, and we still don't know where they're hiding, there isn't much else we can do," Dumbledore said simply. "Until the day they fully attack- "

"It might be too late by that time!"

"It may be the first time we truly know what we're up against."

"We know he's raising an army," I interjected, trying to diffuse the situation between Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore. "We already know what we're up against. He didn't have ten Death Eaters yesterday. Today, he does, and they're the most dangerous and most depraved of them all. There's really nothing else we can do to stay safe?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss Malfoy," he said serenely, trying not to lose his patience with us. "I understand the situation may…affect you differently, as your family is involved- "

"Bellatrix Lestrange is not my family," I snapped, my cheeks on fire. "I'm tired of everyone bringing up 'family' this and 'family' that. Sirius is family. Tonks is family. She…she's furthest thing from it. This situation puts me and the people I love in danger; of course it's affecting me, Professor."

"Forgive me, Miss Malfoy. I did not mean to imply that you shared any sort of characteristics with your aunt," Dumbledore conceded. "I would say to you, however, that now is the time to put those rules we discussed upon your arrival into practice. No going out in the evenings, at all. You'll be escorted to work with a guard, and if you must travel alone, I would implore you to be as precise with your Apparition as possible. This situation is exactly why we made those rules in the first place. It's time to starting living by them."

I nodded. For the first time since joining the Order, I wasn't going to question the rules or Dumbledore. Circumstances had changed and breaking the rules could be a matter of life and death now. If constant vigilance was all we had, then constantly vigilant I would be.

After a while longer discussing the guard duty rotations and exchanging pained smiles with Mrs. Weasley, the rest of the Order began to peter out of the house, leaving Daniel, Tonks, and I sitting around in the kitchen with teacups half filled with Ogden's Old.

"So, I guess you'll be my guard to work in the mornings?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows at my cousin. She smirked.

"Seems that way. It was either me or Moody, and while I'm sure Alastor would love to chide you over your poor landings after Apparating, I thought it best if I just took you on my way to work."

"Pity, I was looking forward to bugging Moody bright and early in the morning," I giggled. "That man does not strike me as a morning person."

Tonks smirked and sipped her tea and firewhiskey concoction, then cocked her head to address Daniel.

"So, you two friends again? Last I heard about you, you'd said some pretty unsavory things about my cousin here- "

"TONKS!" I gasped. Daniel's face was bright red next to me, and he ran his hands through his straw-colored hair, feigning exasperation, and grinned back at my cousin.

"Yeah, we are. Turns out, having your mutual friend die a brutal death at the hands of a dark wizard is really the key to mending a friendship," he deadpanned, taking a drawn-out sip of his tea while Tonks and I gasped and giggled at his bluntness. In a twisted way, he was right; Cedric dying was the reason why we ended up mending our friendship. If it weren't for that horrible event, we would've probably left Hogwarts still hating each other.

After another hour or so of catching up and listening to Dan crack jokes at bizarre intervals, I caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall, which read nine thirty-five. I gasped again, shooting up from my seat and nearly knocking over the teacups and empty bottle of Ogden's. I'd forgotten my intentions to try and contact Fred, and I prayed I'd catch him this late.

"I've got to go!" I exclaimed, running around the table to give my cousin a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow at nine sharp. Dan, I'll see you at the next meeting?"

"That you will, that you will," he chuckled, getting up to leave as well. "It was nice to see you too, Tonks. You be careful, Cass, alright?"

"I will. You get home safe," I said, giving my former boyfriend a one-armed hug and dashing out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I slammed the door behind me, grabbed the mirror from my nightstand, and crashed face-first into my mountain of pillows. I flipped over onto my back and brushed my hair out of my eyes, admiring my appearance before summoning Fred. Please answer, please answer, please answer.

"Fred Weasley," I said loudly and clearly. No answer immediately. I said his name again, but nothing again. I waited another few minutes, took a deep breath, and said his name again.

"Fred Weasley."

Suddenly, Fred's freckled face appeared in the mirror, his eyes widening and a grin spreading across his face the minute he saw me.

"Hiya, love!" I exclaimed, sitting up in bed and brushing my hair out of my face. "Are you okay? How are you?"

"I'm okay, Cass, I'm okay," he said, relief washing over him when he heard my voice. "Merlin, I've only been gone three days and I've missed your voice. And your face. And your lips, but those are on your face, I suppose. I just miss you, darling."

"I know. I miss you too, Freddie," I said emphatically. "But I'm glad I was able to catch you tonight. Now you really don't have an excuse to miss me these next few months, do you?"

"I guess not," he said, rolling his eyes. "Look, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine, but I have to ask- "

"Yes, I saw today's Prophet," I said firmly. "And I'm okay. I knew you'd ask about it."

"What, did you think I wasn't going to ask about my girlfriend's murderous aunt escaping prison? Not to mention almost a dozen others…what did the Order say?"

I shrugged. "If by 'the Order,' you mean Dumbledore, not much. Just more of the same 'constant vigilance,' and that I'm really supposed to stick to the rules now. No going out at night, needing guards to take me to work, things like that. I wouldn't expect me in Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day."

"Damn," he said. "I was really looking forward to snogging in Madame Puddifoot's in front of your sneering brother!"

I laughed out loud; a rollicking belly laugh that I thought impossible when the day began. Then again, nothing, especially not laughter, was impossible when Fred was around.

"As much satisfaction as it would bring me, it's not a good idea. Moody probably won't even let me go. Guess we'll just have to settle for this, I suppose. I'll have to watch you eat all the sweets from Honeydukes that you would've bought me if I was there."

"Oh, I know you'll hate that!" he exclaimed, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly. "I'll have to load up on strawberry Sugar Quills and eat them all in front of you."

"You know, Freddie, Valentine's Day is all about making me love you more," I said through my laughter. "If that's your plan for Valentine's Day, I think you've got a really warped misunderstanding of what the day's all about!"

We continued like that for another hour or so, catching up on his first few days of school, cracking jokes, and including 'I miss you' in every other sentence or so. When I finally put the mirror down at nearly eleven, a renewed sense of safety washed over me, a sense of security that only came with talking to Fred for long periods of time. I remembered what I'd promised myself when we rang in the new year; that we would make things work in the tough times, and that everything would be okay.

It was true in the summer, and it was true even more now; even in wartime, Fred Weasley never, ever failed to give me peace, and that made all the difference in the world.