Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, but to JK Rowling
Chapter Two
Heather and Hagrid didn't remain long at Tonk's parents house. Once their wounds had been tended to, very expertly in Heather's opinion, she and Hagrid used the prearranged portkey to travel on to the Burrow. Before leaving, Heather promised that she would tell Tonks to send word. "I'll make sure you know anything in case Tonks…In case she's busy" she finished, her voice catching in her throat. From the look on Ted Tonk's face, he knew what she had been about to say.
With the sensation of a hook being pulled behind her navel, the portkey glowed blue and transported them to the Burrow, landing them roughly in the Weasley's garden. There were screams and Heather stood up to see Mrs. Weasley running towards them, followed by a very pale Ginny. Frantically, Mrs. Weasley asked if she was the real Harry before asking what had happened. Heather let Hagrid explain while Mrs. Weasley led him towards the kitchen for some "medicinal brandy." Ginny and Heather stayed in the yard, looking up at the nights sky. According to Ginny, Heather and Hagrid were supposed to be the second back after Ron and Tonks, but there was still no sight of them.
With a cry, Ginny pointed toward a growing blue orb some ten feet away that resolved itself into Lupin supporting George, who was covered in blood. Heather rushed to them and helped Lupin carry the unconscious redhead into the sitting room. His entire ear was missing. Mrs. Weasley started stripping away his shirt, and despite the severity of the situation a small part of Heather's mind was relieved that George had completely changed back into himself. Too many people had seen her body tonight.
As her brain finished up this train of thought and was just beginning to realize how ludicrous it was, a hand roughly grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her against the stone fireplace. Lupin stood there, his wand level with Heather's nose. He apparently wasn't convinced that she was who she said she was, not without proof.
"What creature sat in the corner of my office the first time that Harry Potter visited it at Hogwarts?" he demanded, and sparks erupted from the end of his wand that only barely missed Heather's eyes.
"A grindylow, I think." She sputtered.
With a nod and a look of intense relief, Lupin released her and apologized. They had been betrayed, and he had needed to know the truth. Heather understood, though her shoulder hurt where he had shoved it into the hard stone. Over the next half hour, most of the rest of the Order trickled in, each in turn checked to ensure they were who they claimed to be. When Bill and Fleur arrived, they brought news that Mad-Eye had been killed, struck by a killing curse from Voldemort himself. The silence that filled the room at this news wasn't broken for ten minutes as every tried their best to accept it.
Once conversation resumed, no one wanted to talk about anything but who the traitor had been, as it was clear someone had told the Death Eater's the real date that Heather was to be moved. Mundungus was the first suspect, since he had fled the battle when he saw Voldemort coming directly at him. Bill shot this idea down, because it had been Mundungus' idea to have six duplicates in the first place, and the Death Eater's had not been prepared for that. Heather didn't believe that any of her friends could ever knowingly betray her, something that Lupin observed with rye amusement.
Heather left the crowded room, too overcome to continue listening to anyone and walked out into the garden. As she passed through the kitchen, she spied her rucksack propped against a table leg and hefted it, not sure if she was intending to stay or leave immediately. As they had a tendency to do, Hermione and Ron had already predicted this and followed her. As they stood there, debating with Heather that she needed to stay, at least until after her birthday, her scar erupted in pain for the second time that night. She saw in her mind Voldemort crossing a dark room, standing over the cowering figure of Ollivander and demanding to know why Lucius Malfoy's wand had failed. When the frail, old wandmaker couldn't explain it, Voldemort tortured him.
For the next few days, Heather found herself expecting Mad-Eye Moody to come stomping into the Burrow with the others who stopped in frequently, even though she knew he was dead. As the Burrow had replaced Number Twelve Grimmauld Place as headquarters, they were joined many times for meals by Order members. They always brought news, which was appreciated, even though most of it was bad. The morning after her arrival at the Burrow, Ron stopped her as she opened the door to go downstairs.
"Mum's been trying to get us to tell her what we're doing" he said. "She knows we're not going back to school. Dad and Lupin asked us too, but once we said it was something for Dumbledore, they let it go. She's going to try and get it out of you too."
It wasn't long after breakfast that Ron's predication came true. Mrs. Weasley called Heather into the scullery when she was done eating, apparently attempting to determine the owner of a lone brown sock. With a note of false unconcern, she enquired as to where Heather was planning on going, and if she was really intending to drop out of school. When Heather didn't give her an answer, even invoking Dumbledore's name, Mrs. Weasley changed tactics. Heather had expected her to play the "Concerned parent" card, and so already had her answer prepared. It didn't do much to convince Mrs. Weasley, but it did let her bring the conversation to an end. Before letting her go, Mrs. Weasley extracted a promise to assist with the wedding preparations.
From that point on, Mrs. Weasley kept the three of them so busy that it became near impossible to find time alone to plan. Some might have thought she was doing this to distract from the pain of losing Mad-Eye, but this excuse felt very thin once Heather noticed that every task she handed out kept her, Hermione, and Ron far apart. While setting the table for dinner the next evening, Ginny whispered to Heather "She thinks if she can keep you lot from planning, that you won't be able to leave." Mrs. Weasley's motherly concern for the three of them had always been appreciated by Heather, but didn't she realize that by stopping them from planning she was only helping Voldemort?
"Of course she doesn't!" cried Ron that night when Heather expressed that feeling aloud to him, "She hasn't got a clue. That was Dumbledore's orders, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, it was" agreed Heather, sliding into her sleeping bag. It wasn't much of a comfort to her fraying nerves however.
Two days before her birthday, Heather was out in the garden after breakfast helping the twins give the garden one last de-gnoming before the arrival of the Delacour's the following morning.
"Harry, dear. Could I get your help with something?" called Mrs. Weasley from the kitchen door.
"Sure, Mrs. Weasley. Be there in a minute." She shouted back, stooping to grab one last gnome. With a satisfying hurl, the small potato-like creature went flying over the hedge and landed in the field beyond. Wiping her hands on her jeans, Heather entered the kitchen to see Mrs. Weasley standing on the staircase waiting for her. Following her up to the first landing, they entered the open door to Ginny's bedroom. Heather had never been in here before but liked how Ginny had decorated.
Inside, already waiting for them were Ginny and Hermione, the latter of whom closed the door behind Heather and cast "muffliato". Both girls were looking at Heather with barely restrained glee, which in her opinion did not necessarily bode well. Her fears were unfounded, however.
"Heather," began Mrs. Weasley, "We've had an idea that we need to run by you."
"Okay, what is it?"
"There's been some concern amongst the Order at you being, well, yourself at the wedding. While none of the guests are Death Eater's, you never know who might be under the Imperius curse or who might blab after having too much wine" continued Mrs. Weasley.
"So, you don't want me to be myself?" asked Heather, confused.
"Well, I had the thought that maybe you could go to the wedding as Heather, you know, as a girl" chimed in Hermione.
"What?"
"It's not that terrible an idea if you think about it" added Ginny, "No one would expect 'Harry Potter' to be wearing a dress after all, not unless they already know your secret of course."
"We would modify some of your features of course," interjected Mrs. Weasley, "and Hermione also suggested that we change your hair color to red, that way you can just pass as one of the many Weasley cousins who will be attending."
"But, won't we have to tell the members of the Order who I am, and won't they ask questions?"
"Not all of them. I think we can keep the number of people who will be told, that don't already know about Heather that is, fairly low." Said Mrs. Weasley thoughtfully. "What about if we just tell Arthur, Tonks, and Remus. All anyone else has to know is that you're using Polyjuice potion. They should accept that."
Heather took several moments to consider but couldn't see any other objections to this plan other than concern at what Lupin might say. Excitement began to replace the fright she had initially felt, and soon it was bubbling out of her. "But I don't have a dress!" she cried, sending all three women around her into giggles.
"Don't you worry about that, missy." Said Ginny, crossing to her wardrobe. From it she extracted a zipped-up clothing bag and handed it to Heather. Inside was a green dress with matching shoes that reminded Heather instantly of the one she had seen all those years ago in Diagon Alley on her first shopping trip with the girls.
"It's not the same one" said Hermione, reading her mind, "But it's close."
"Where-when did you get this?" asked Heather dazedly.
"Before I…left my parents' house we took a trip to London. I made a quick detour." Said Hermione, stumbling at the mention of her parents. There was something she wasn't saying, but Heather didn't press in front of the two Weasley's.
"Hermione, you're amazing."
That afternoon they finally had the chance to break away and hide in Ron's bedroom. Heather was supposed to be helping Mr. Weasley feed the chickens, but as he knew what they were up to, he let her wander off. Up in Ron's room, Heather found Ron and Hermione going over what they would need to bring with them. Heather tried one more time to convince them not to come with her. It was only then that she found out the lengths her friends had gone to to protect their families.
Ron led her up a rickety folding ladder into the attic and showed her the Weasley family Ghoul, who was covered in pustules and wearing Ron's pajamas. Once they had gone on the run, it was going to live in Ron's bedroom and pretend to be him with a horrible disease. Overwhelmed by the smell, they went back downstairs where Hermione told them what she had done to her parents. They were now living in Australia under memory charms, having been made to forget they even had a daughter.
It finally sank in to Heather, sitting there on the floor of Ron's bedroom, just how far her friends were willing to go to stay by her side. Nothing she could say would change their minds, and she wasn't sure anymore that she wanted too. The thought of going after Voldemort by herself sounded awfully lonely. With a bang the door to the bedroom flew open and Mrs. Weasley entered in a towering temper. Each sent with a fresh list of tasks to accomplish, Heather, Hermione, and Ron went pell-mell down the stairs to escape her wrath.
The Delacours arrived the next morning at eleven o'clock, escorted through the wards by Mr. Weasley. They were nothing like Heather had expected. Fleur's mother was as beautiful as her two daughters, while Mr. Delacour was a small round man with a black beard. Instantly they won over the assembled Weasley's with their grace and manners, outdoing even Mrs. Weasley in their fervor for preparing for their oldest daughter's wedding.
During her dreams that night, Heather found herself walking along a mountain road, staring down at a village. Did he live in the village, the man who had the answers she sought? With a jolt she woke to find Ron poking her.
"Oy, you alright?"
Heather blinked the sleep away from her eyes, it had been so vivid, like her vision of Voldemort torturing Ollivander days before.
"Who's Gregorovitch?" asked Ron. When Heather looked at him questioningly, he continued "You were muttering that in your sleep. Who is he?"
"No clue, but I think Voldemort is after him."
"Better him than us. Here!"
Ron thrust a package into her arms and the realization struck her that it was her birthday. She was finally of age. Reaching for her wand, she began sending her many possessions floating around the room. It was all well and good until her glasses came flying at her and poked her in the eye. Shooting a watery glare at Ron, who was doubled up in laughter, rubbed her eye to clear the pain. After dressing, during with Ron turned his back showing his very pink ears, they both made their way down to breakfast.
With the Delacour's help, wedding preparations were complete long before evening. Around lunchtime Charlie Weasley arrived from Romania. Heather had been bracing herself for his arrival. She had developed an instant, and to some obvious, crush on him two years previously, and expected her face to go its usual shade of scarlet at the sight of him. He had bulked out a bit more, still with his signature long hair and earring. When he saw her, he did a small double take, surprised at her new appearance. Mrs. Weasley, possibly having noticed his reaction at seeing Heather, started in on him about the length of his hair.
Mrs. Weasley had asked Heather how she wanted to celebrate her birthday that evening, and a small party was planned. Hagrid, Tonks, and Lupin would be attending, along with the inhabitants of the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was working late, as he had almost everyday since Heather had arrived, and just as they were getting ready to eat without him, his patronus arrived. Hurriedly it announced that Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, would be coming with him. With pale faces, both Tonks and Lupin raced towards the boundary of the house's wards and vanished.
Ten minutes later Mr. Weasley and the Minister came striding up the path towards the house. Scrimgeour looked older than he had just a few months before at Dumbledore's funeral, and gave Heather's birthday cake, which was a large Golden Snitch, a dour expression. Unlike the last times they spoke, he didn't try any false courtesy, but almost ordered Heather, Hermione, and Ron into the living room. Once alone, he did his best to separate them for questioning, but Heather was having none of it.
"Whatever you've got to ask us, you can do it right here." She said, folding her arms across her small but developing chest and staring the Minister down.
He considered her closely, and shrugged. Together the three of them sat down on the couch, while he extracted a roll of parchment and a sack from his cloak. To Heather's surprise, he began to read from Dumbledore's will, announcing that the headmaster had left each of them something. Hermione got a very old book entitled The Tales of Beedle the Bard, which were old wizarding children's stories. To Ron, Dumbledore had left his deluminator. Finally, to Heather was left the snitch she had caught in her first Quidditch match, along with the sword of Godric Gryffindor. When this was read out, Scrimgeour immediately informed them that the sword was not Dumbledore's to give away, and that it belonged to the school.
Tempers began to flare at this, as Hermione claimed that the sword had presented itself to Heather and therefore belonged to her to begin with. Scrimgeour dismissed this, instead turning to Heather and demanding to know why these items had been left to the three of them. Heather's own anger began to rise as he questioned them closely. It wasn't his business trying to tear open old snitches and deluminators. As her insinuation that this is what he had been doing instead of trying to stop Voldemort, Scrimgeour jumped to his feet and stormed from the house.
Out in the garden the mood had changed and no one really felt like celebrating anymore. Heather opened her presents and everyone sang a round of "Happy Birthday" before breaking up and returning to their rooms. Upstairs in Ron's room, Heather slid into her sleeping bag wishing that her birthday had gone better, before her nerves and excitement at what the following day would bring took over. It was several hours later she was finally able to settle down enough to fall asleep.