"I look at the bloke to my left, right, and he stares me down with that sort of drunken haze,"
Ted Tonks reenacts the man in his tale, causing Remus to laugh.
"He tells me. 'Mate, that bird there,'" Ted gestured to Andromeda to his left. "'She's a fine one. Don't reckon you could lend her my name, could yeh?'"
The dinning table erupted with laughter. Remus was over for dinner at the Tonks's tonight, and had thoroughly enjoyed himself thus far.
Dora's parents had known of their relationship since it started. This wasn't exactly surprising seeing as they'd snogged like a pair of teenagers not a mile away from their front door.
Due to Remus's teaching position, he hadn't had a chance to properly come over, which they understood. Though the present was all well and good, Remus had a constant bubbling worry in the pit of his stomach over Harry and Ginny. As far as they knew, the two of them were still imprisoned.
He shook his head absently to drive them out of his mind. Dora noticed this and threw a sad smile his way. He nodded to her and gazed out the window absently, his mind still on the two missing students.
The sun was low on the horizon, casting great shadows away from all the trees surrounding the house.
The wireless in the corner was playing a slow monotonous background tune.
"Do you enjoy teaching, Remus?" asked Andromeda, eyeing him carefully.
Remus was brought back to reality by the question and took a moment to answer. "Yes, yes I enjoy it very much," he gave a tight smile.
"Yeah, I meant to ask you about that," Ted noted, leaning back in his chair now that he was done his shepard's pie. "Do you find it rewarding? Me myself I can't imagine the thought of wanting to teach," he chortled and Andromeda rolled her eyes.
Remus chuckled and bobbed his head from side to side in contemplation. "Well, I mean… I wouldn't say it's rewarding. I enjoy it because it's fun. I mean to say that, well, besides grading and exams, I love the idea that my teaching is making some of these… less cooperative students, more comfortable and maybe even sparking some interest in the world around them,"
Ted raised his glass. "Spoken like a man driven by passion. I appreciate that. God only knows why there are so few men like you in your profession,"
"Oh, Ted, stop with all that muggle religious rubbish," Andromeda scolded. "It doesn't make an ounce of sense."
Ted grinned. "And yet here you are using muggle measuring terms,"
The continued to bicker when the wireless suddenly let out a loud alarm sound. Everyone stilled. There hadn't been a global alert system like this since the war.
"Ladies and gentlemen we're sorry for the intrusion to our more familiar schedule, but the Ministry has reported some breaking news."
The dining room was deathly quiet, and Remus knew that all around Europe, families big and small were in the exact same situation.
"There has been a mass breakout at Azkaban Prison. The dementors, luckily, seem magically bound to the island. Unfortunately, that is the only positive I can name from this press statement,"
Remus stilled. How many had been broken out?
"Approximately nine hundred and eighty witches and wizards have been freed. Yes, that accounts for every inmate of the famed inescapable prison. It seems Britain's mysterious Dark Lord has struck once again, leaving behind a message in the courtyard that reads, "We are watching.""
Remus looked away from the wireless and up to Andromeda. Her sister had been locked away in Azkaban for thirteen years now.
Andromeda was deathly pale, staring at the wireless with hollowed eyes.
"This mass breakout includes the culprits for the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom, Bellatrix, Redolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange. The other members of the high-security guard that have been freed include Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov.
"We ask that you remain vigilant and aware of your surroundings throughout the coming months. These are dangerous times, and I believe we all are interested to see how tomorrow's election goes following these recent events.
"Stay safe, and goodnight,"
The announcement concluded, and the music resumed. It was as though nothing had even happened.
"Andi. Andi," Ted was waving a hand in front of his wife's eyes. She turned slowly to Dora.
"You need to hide," she told her daughter. "She'll come for you. Bella. She'll come for you."
Dora clenched her jaw and stared back defiantly. "I'm not running, mum. We both know that."
"There's always…" Ted trailed off and swallowed. "There's always Narcissa? You could speak to her…"
Andromeda scoffed. "She's made it quite plain that we are not sisters any longer."
Remus turned a guilty eye to Dora who seemed equally uncomfortable. They had kept their promise to Narcissa to keep her choice of side private until she was ready, but it had been months now.
Ted and Andromeda didn't even know of Voldemort's return.
Andromeda stood from her seat and silently exited the room. Ted rubbed the back of his head and bit his lip.
"I think it's best if you take your leave," he smiled apologetically up at Remus. "I don't expect you'd care to be involved with this sort of thing,"
Remus nodded. Not because he didn't care, but rather the fact that he recognized a dismissal when he heard one.
He thanked Ted graciously for the food and hospitality, and made his way to the door. He wasn't entirely surprised to hear Dora's light footsteps following him.
He put on his coat and turned to his girlfriend. "Tell them about Voldemort," he instructed without delay. "They need to know. They deserve to know,"
Dora bit the inside of her cheek. "Right… what about Cissy?"
Remus hesitated. "That's Narcissa's right, and she's remained adamant on keeping it. Leave that out of it. Just… make sure they understand what's happened,"
"Do I tell them about Harry and Ginny?"
Remus faltered. "Maybe… just don't mention any of the prophecies. Just that they're being kept by Voldemort and that's all we know. Oh, and make sure they're in the loop about Barty Crouch Jr."
Dora nodded to it all and threw her arms around him. "Be careful on your way home, okay?"
Remus smiled into her brown hair, dulled by her conflicting emotions. "No one can sneak up on a werewolf,"
Dora snorted into his chest and pulled back, standing on her toes and pressing a light kiss to his lips. "I'll see you later," she whispered, before scurrying away in search of her mother.
Remus shook himself and opened the door, striding out and away from the Tonks's house with a sense of looming dread overriding everything else.
How could the world fall apart so quickly?
Regretfully Uncaring
Chapter 33: Black
"The votes are pulling through; this is the final ballot… and… THICKNESSE WINS THE ELECTION! Pius Thicknesse leads our Ministry in a new direction. Here is a pre-recorded statement he released this morning:"
"It has been a long time coming, my friends. Our current Government has been led by men too easily shaped by the pressures around them. I will not drag our government… I will lead it. The future holds bright opportunities for all true witches and wizards. Those of us who have rightly deserved to be recognized will… continue to rise. There are men and women living among us who have lied, stolen, and cheated their way into our society. Though the previous Ministry refused to disclose these details, I have no such shame. I believe you all deserve to be made well aware, that the attack and subsequent mass breakout of Azkaban prison, leading to the release of each and every inmate was a coordinated attack by the Muggleborn community. This powerful organization has been rising for decades, and finally, they show their true colours. They are nothing more than the prejudiced of before! We must fight these false wizards, these terrorists, and deceivers!
"Come next month, every member of our society that declares themselves a so-called 'muggleborn' will be obligated to subject themselves to questioning. We need to know how these villains are stealing magic, and how to stop further attacks on our community from occurring again.
"I am sorry that such news must come on my first day here leading our people, but I believe honesty is far more important than anything Fudge's committee put out for so long. Truth, justice, and MIGHT.
"Magic is Might!"
Bill sagged in his chair as his assistant, Fleur Delacour, cursed in French and threw a muggle rubber ball at the wall opposite in frustration. "You Englishmen are so incredibly stupide! Is that not obviously a lie?" her accent always came out stronger while frustrated.
Bill ran a hand through his hair, which he'd taken down from its usual ponytail. "Not all of us are complete ignorant twits," he corrected. "Just the vast majority… apparently,"
Fleur huffed in irritation. "If I was a citizen, I would have voted for Sirius… but he isn't even running!"
Bill sighed. "Yes, well, that isn't exactly up to us, is it? Besides, even if he'd won, these blood-purists have been worming their way back into our government over the past year. Sirius would get nothing done, and he'd probably end up dead."
Fleur got up from her seat, her dazzling hair, which hung to her middle, swung around her. "And what of Dumbledore? He could most certainly do something!"
Bill drummed his fingers on his desk. "Could he, though? People trusted him out of blind loyalty, but he's had fuck up after fuck up with this Tournament, and the press hasn't been particularly kind…"
Fleur tapped her foot on the floor, her arms crossed and leaning into her hip. "So, what can we do, then?"
Bill shrugged. "Move to France, I guess…" he grimaced.
Fleur shot him a look. "Do not speak of my country with such disdain, Bill,"
"It's not that I don't like the place I just like it here a lot better!" they'd had this conversation many times in the lulls between jobs.
There was one job he was putting off, however, and now was the time to perform the task.
Lucius Malfoy had been free for a whole day, now. Narcissa had proven her worth and loyalty to their side, as had Snape, so he figured he might as well do what they requested of him.
"Fleur, I need your help with something," he said, his voice in a higher pitch than usual. He couldn't help but feel as though he was pleading.
Fleur waited in silence.
"I need a second,"
"I've given it to you," she told him.
Bill shook his head. "No, I mean a second. A second curse-breaker. Someone to contain a lot of raw magic, and I used to use one of my brothers but he's… well, you know…" he trailed off.
Fleur's eyes widened. "How much power do we speak of?"
Bill cringed. "An uncontained magical core," her eyes bulged. "Twice," Bill added for clarification.
Fleur gaped at him, evidently waiting for him to tell her it's just a joke. "Seriously?" she struggled over the word.
Bill nodded.
"To whom?"
"Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape," he said, staring off into the corner.
Fleur threw her arms up into the air and began pacing. "And why must you do this?"
Bill shrugged. "They're on our side, and they need to distance themselves from the dark. I'm saving them."
Fleur sighed. "When does this happen?"
Bill didn't know how to answer that. "As soon as possible, I expect."
Fleur nodded. "Where is she? The client?"
Bill stood up and motioned for the fireplace. "Go to Potter Manor," he instructed.
They stepped out of the fireplace in the sitting room of Potter Manor. Surprising to Bill was that Narcissa was already there.
She was pacing back and forth. Her robes billowed behind her with every step.
"Mrs. Malfoy?" Bill asked, announcing his presence in the room at the same time.
She jolted to a stop and took in a deep breath after being startled. "Are you here to do it?" she asked frantically. "Please tell me-"
"Yes," Bill soothed. "We're here to rewrite your magic,"
"Why is she here," said Narcissa, looking down her pointed nose at Fleur.
"Because I'll need a second person to contain your power," Bill explained. "I can't do this on my own, much less twice in one day."
Bill looked out the window at the slowly pinkening sky. "And if I'm not mistaken, we're running out of daylight,"
Narcissa nodded curtly and swept from the room. "Sirius?" she called. "Sirius, have you still got that owl lying about?"
Sirius came into view from around the corner. "She's in the kitchen," he grumbled, nodding to Bill and Fleur and disappearing up the steps to his study.
Bill watched as Narcissa pulled out a preprepared roll of parchment and tied it to the leg of a beautiful white owl. "Take this to Draco Malfoy as quickly as possible!" she told the owl, and let it soar out into the sky. She turned back to the two curse breakers and waited. "How is this going to work,"
Bill shifted awkwardly on his feet and Fleur's cheeks pinkened. "You're going to have to… let go of your magic."
Narcissa frowned. "How?"
"It's an occlumency method… sort of…" Bill sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Have you ever heard of Regretfully Uncaring?"
Narcissa paled. "I've never accomplished it,"
Bill grimaced. "Right, well, it's required,"
"Do you know how to do it? Can you teach me? Now? Here?" Narcissa blurted.
Bill shrugged. "Depends. Do you understand the fundamentals?"
Narcissa nodded. "You must detach yourself from your very being to a point of near no return. Your soul, your mind, is so disconnected from your magical core that you are unable to feel, emotionally or physically, what is going on around you, or what is happening to you. Many witches have died from it in childbirth. They attempt the method, and stray too far from their bodies, inadvertently killing themselves,"
Bill nodded. "Good. Think of it like a tightrope. You're walking along a fine line. Below you, is death… so, erm, stay on the tightrope."
Narcissa nodded, interlocking her fingers and glaring down at the table. "I'm a phenomenal occlumens, you know,"
"Wouldn't be entirely surprising," Bill noted. "Now… I need Snape here,"
As Bill said it, the man in question swept through the doorway. Seemingly summoned by chance.
"Instructions, Mr. Weasley?" Snape requested in his greasy voice.
Bill shook himself from the shock of Snape's immediate appearance and nodded. "I… erm… this sort of thing is incredibly difficult," Bill explained, and he heard a dramatic intake of breath from Fleur behind him. "It would be… easier and… probably more effective if we could… do your cores together…" he waited for them to catch on.
Unfortunately, it seemed the great Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy were at a loss.
Bill sighed. "If… I took the both of you and rewrote it together… you'd sort of be… well, you'd be married."
Narcissa's jaw slackened, and she heard Snape shift uncomfortably from her side. "Would it be possible to perform the task separately?" Snape asked coolly.
Bill grimaced. "Yes, but –"
"Then do so separately," Snape instructed.
Bill gaped at his two clients and turned to Fleur in disbelief. She didn't seem quite so taken aback and shrugged to her boss.
Bill sighed and nodded to them both. "Now we wait for Draco."
Draco Malfoy sat against the side of Astoria's rather large walk-in closet. Robes and ballgowns curtained his vision as he sat in and around the hung clothing.
Astoria hadn't taken his story very well. She was both furious at his mother and furious at his father. She believed he had been abused, which Draco had scoffed at, which had only managed to infuriate her further.
The degree to which she supported his independent streak was rather impressive. She believed that, yes, he was right to leave and didn't owe anyone anything.
Draco had shrugged and admitted that it would be right to at least respect his mother and father for bringing him into this world, and to acknowledge his mother's efforts to change.
When asked if he himself had changed, Draco had fallen silent. He didn't know how to feel about that sort of thing. He hadn't any friends, and his parents were on opposite sides of a war that thus far, had approached in near complete silence.
He wanted to say he was neutral, but he couldn't deny that his beliefs lined up with one side more than the other.
The Dark Lord would come for him and offer him a place among his followers. Draco knew that this was but a ploy to torture his mother and father for their betrayal.
"The smart thing to do would be to leave entirely. Take the blood adoption and run," was what Astoria had said after coming to grips with the initial shock of The Dark Lord's return.
Draco agreed, partially. There was still a shred of loyalty he felt for his family, however.
In other words, Draco was torn.
But running was the smart thing to do. So, he would do it.
A knock came on the door to the closet. Draco knew that no one but Astoria would knock on her own closet, so he didn't bother to hide.
"Come in," he said loud enough for her to hear him but quiet enough not to alert the dwellers of the lower floors.
The door swung open silently, and Astoria stepped in. She quickly pushed it shut and strode towards his spot among her clothes.
"You got a letter," she said, handing him a roll of parchment with a seal containing the Black coat of arms.
Draco took it and hesitated on cracking the seal. Taking a deep breath, he unrolled the parchment and read.
It contained two small paragraphs.
"Though I know not where you are staying, I hope that wherever it is, you are safe. I suspect there won't be much time to speak upon your arrival. These things tend to be rather fast-paced if the legends are anything to go off of. I am writing this note to say that I am sorry for how I have treated you over the course of this past school year. I wish I could go back and change it, but unfortunately, none truly receive that chance.
Now, I am writing to inform you that the time has come. You know where, and I request that you arrive at your earliest convenience.
Signed,
Your mother,
Narcissa Black."
Draco read and re-read the letter before laying it to rest and folding his arms over his chest. It was a half-hearted apology, at least in writing, and he didn't care for it.
Astoria sighed and sank to sit on her haunches. "Are you going to go?"
"Depends," Draco replied.
Astoria nodded slowly. "I can't keep you here much longer. Daddy's going to want to check our rooms eventually."
Draco let out a long breath. "I know,"
There was a pregnant pause.
"Thicknesse won the election," she said in a hushed whisper. "He's announced a campaign against muggleborns. Daphne reckons he's working for this new Dark Lord they're going on about,"
Draco nodded slowly. "We both know it's a man working for The Dark Lord… the world thinks this person is new," he scoffed. "He's just a pawn…"
Astoria sighed. "It'd be nice though… wouldn't it? Someone new and less frightening… You-Know-Who's terrible but this new person… he's-"
"They're all the same," Draco said, verbally shrugging off whatever Astoria was prattling on about. "He'd rise. Throw the world into chaos, and then he'd disappear… The point is, it's all the same man, and his name is… well, You-Know-Who,"
Astoria nodded again and picked at a thread on her clothing. "I don't agree with the new Ministry… and that Azkaban breakout is being blamed on muggleborns. As if they'd break out their oppressors."
"What?" Draco interrupted. "you're saying… hang on. Azkaban? Breakout?"
Astoria gasped. "I thought I'd told you! Oh, my goodness…"
Draco shot to his feet and picked his rucksack off the floor, hoisting it over his shoulder. His left arm was still quite sore, but not nearly as bad as it would have been had he not had Astoria's quick thinking.
"Where are you going?" she demanded, as Draco shoved past the door and bolted to the window he'd come in from a few weeks prior.
"I'm running," he replied, throwing one leg over her window. "But first, I need to pay a visit to my mother,"
He threw a faint smile over his shoulder and tried to convey as much gratitude as he possibly could for her efforts.
She seemed to understand what he meant and nodded.
He leapt out her window and cast a cushioning charm before his legs hit the ground. The wards around the manor creating an excellent protection from the trace.
He ran in full daylight to the hedge and dove into the crevasse of the wards, wiggling through and out of the grounds with far less difficulty than that of his arrival.
He stood up and rolled his shoulders. His sudden burst of activity left him with a harsh stitch at his side.
He panted for a moment before focusing on Potter Manor with all his might. His immature apparition forced his arrival to announce itself with an ear-splitting crack that reverberated through the valley.
The wards recognized him and let him through the gates. He strode down the lane with haste and walked through the open doors without hesitation. With a few mistakes, he navigated the ancient home and arrived at the kitchens, a place that most pureblooded families would have hidden away with appliances and furniture built specifically for elves.
The Potters, however, seemed to have designed their space with equality in mind.
His mother, Snape, Bill, and Fleur, the Beauxbatons Champion stood there, waiting for him.
"He's out, then?" Draco asked in a huff, leaning against the wall and shutting his eyes to focus on his breathing.
"Your father? Yes. He's escaped. It's only a matter of time before Voldemort" – Draco flinched – "will track you and your mother down." Bill informed him.
Draco could have sworn he'd heard a faint pop of apparition from outside, but he brushed it off.
Bill seemed extremely nervous, and Draco couldn't for the life of him understand why. He was an accomplished curse-breaker, surely he'd performed something in a similar vein before?
"The blood adoption is the easier of the three tasks," Bill explained. "We need Sirius,"
Draco's mother nodded and rose to exit the room. She seemed to try and draw his attention, but Draco refused. She swept past him and left for the stairs.
The group waited in tense silence. Draco fought the magic roiling off of Fleur and stared intently at a dark spot on the wooden table.
After the most grueling minutes of Draco's life, Sirius finally arrived with his mother. "Right," he said gruffly. "Let's get this over with," he paused. "Did anyone else hear a pop of apparition?"
Everyone shook their heads, but Draco nodded.
Draco's nod was missed by Sirius, however, so he said, "Must have imagined it then."
Blood adoption was, in fact, incredibly simple. It took little to no effort at all. Two glass vials were produced by Fleur, handed to Bill, and filled with blood. One vial, with Draco's, and the other with Sirius's.
Sirius read from a truly decrepit looking book. He uttered a long stream of phrases that, to Draco, meant absolutely nothing, but there was evidently a strong focus on intent with this sort of magic.
Then, Draco was handed the book, and read his portion. He poured every ounce of effort and care he had for his own safety into those sentences. He needed this to work. He spoke all about how desperately he wished to join the House of Black and that he would always be loyal to their cause.
Then, Bill took the two vials and poured them into a strange glass spiral. Their blood swirled down each spiral before coming to a middle portion and combining. A strange blue aura enveloped the blood and Draco's left thumb, as well as Sirius's, before the light went out, and everything was silent and still.
The whole thing took nearly an hour, but it had felt like an eternity.
Bill waited with bated breath before letting out a prolonged sigh. "Alright… that's that, then," he announced.
"Does this clear me of my betrothal?" asked Draco, turning to leave.
"Yes," Bill nodded. "You should probably inform Miss Greengrass as privately as possible."
That wouldn't be a problem, Draco thought.
"Draco?"
It was his mother. He knew she'd speak to him at some point. "Yes?" he asked, facing away from her and the room.
"Take care, will you?" she asked. Her voice was devoid of any emotion. Clearly, she was trying to remain as stoic as possible.
Draco swallowed past memories of his mother taking him on picnics on their manor's grounds. Their first trip outside of the United Kingdom down to Italy. His first broom-ride, something she'd joined him on.
"I will." he said confidently. He took a step and hesitated. "You as well,"
Then, he left. He walked out of the hall and back onto the front grounds. The clouds overhead had darkened in the hour or so he'd spent on his visit. He couldn't explain the deep sinking feeling in the bit of his stomach, or why he had a sense that something was going to go horribly wrong.
He ignored those feelings, and kept on walking. He didn't know where to go, and he had no plans to return to the Greengrass estate, so he kept on walking. He'd walk until his legs gave out. Not a thought in his mind. Just the world around him and the consequences of the actions his parents had left upon him.
He thought he heard footsteps, and the crunching of twigs, but he ignored it. He pushed passed the gates and disapparated to a spot by the beach in the south of England. He'd wait there for a while, and watch the sunset.
Perhaps he would go to France. Visit distant relations.
Yes, France seemed a good idea.
The beginnings of a plan made their way through his mind. He'd leave for France. He just had to find a way.
Narcissa drew in a shaky breath to steady her emotions as she watched her son leave. She knew that could possibly be the last time she ever saw him.
True, in the distant future it was possible that they'd cross paths, but he wouldn't be hers anymore. He'd have grown, found a woman, or man. Either way, her son was gone.
She had to accept that.
"Narcissa?"
Severus's voice finally broke through her daze. "Yes?" she replied, turning to face him.
"It's time."
She nodded and rose with him. "You're doing it separately… we'll take Snape first, and you second, if that's alright." Bill explained.
Narcissa raised her eyebrows and nodded. She'd waited months for this. She could wait a little longer.
Snape's dark mark would burn away off his skin the minute he was no longer Severus Snape but instead Severus Prince. It was simple, really. A fascinating way around the Dark Mark.
The smile on her face disappeared as Bill led Snape out of the room. "Why is he taking him away?" she asked. "Why isn't he taking you with him?"
Fleur sat at the table across from her and shrugged. "If he needs me, he'll call me… I think he was anticipating performing the two of you together. He didn't expect Snape to be so… against the idea."
Narcissa nodded. She wasn't exactly keen on it either, but she'd have done it if it was safer. Clearly, Severus didn't share the same viewpoint.
"Why must they do it in another room?" Narcissa repeated the other part of her question.
Fleur seemed confused at the question. "To rewrite one's magic you must be stripped down to who you are at the core. Magically, emotionally, and physically. To do so you must be as comfortable as possible. I doubt it very much that Snape would be comfortable nude around all of us."
Sirius snorted from his corner, where he gently nursed a bottle of butter-beer. "I think I'd kill myself if I had to see that,"
Narcissa, again, had no grounds to disagree. She herself was not exactly comfortable with this news. "Do I have to do that too?" she asked.
Fleur nodded. "Of course. I thought you knew that. It is the most commonly known part of this line of curse breaking. Very romanticized," she explained with the tone and grace of explaining complex maths to a five-year-old.
Narcissa felt a bubble of dread seep through her. It's not that she was insecure, she was a fully grown woman, and mother. It was more the fact that she was completely and totally unprepared for what was about to happen. In all the time she'd spent recruiting and building up the Order's resources, she'd never bothered to look into what she was waiting to undergo.
She was a fool, it would seem, and required a serious reorganization of her priorities.
"FLEUR!" Bill's voice came from around the corner. "I need your help IMMEDIATELY!"
Fleur jumped to her feet and ran out the room, drawing her wand as she did so.
A long silence spanned out without her. The sun slowly sank below the horizon until the kitchen was dark and unsettling. The corners lay curtained in shadow.
The sound of a match striking its box was the first outburst from Sirius. He lifted it to his face. Its small amount of light cast the faint lines and creases of his middle-aged face into visibility.
"How are you feeling?" he asked calmly.
Narcissa didn't know. She couldn't exactly describe how she felt.
"Are you ready?" he asked, seemingly taking her lack of any response as an answer in and of itself.
"No." she replied firmly. "I'm… I've known occlumency since before I could cast a levitation charm yet this… concept is terrifying to me,"
Sirius nodded and waved the match out. He walked into the light and sat opposite her, where Fleur had been. "I've never been able to grapple with it myself," he said. Of all their time spent together over the past year, they'd never had such a casual conversation unhindered by arguing or passive aggressive remarks.
"It's just… Regretfully Uncaring is practically impossible. I can't do it. I've tried, and I can't." Narcissa brought her hands to the sides of her face and closed her eyes, her palms resting against her cheeks. "Those witches, who die during childbirth, that was almost me. That was the last time I attempted it,"
Sirius nodded and raised his eyebrows. "Are you going to try it again?"
Narcissa lifted her eyelids and stared back at him in disbelief. "What do you think? Of course I am. I have to,"
Sirius nodded. "Good. Just making sure you aren't going to run away from this,"
Narcissa shifted. "Draco… is safe," she said slowly. "Which means that if this all goes wrong, and I die, he'll be safe."
Sirius raised a single eyebrow in confusion.
"Sirius can you do something for me?" she asked after another long pause.
He waved his hand to offer her a metaphorical stage.
"If… something happens, and I can't recover from it… will you watch over him? Even from afar? Make sure that… that he's safe and-" she hesitated. "And happy? Please?"
Sirius drummed his fingers on the table, never breaking eye-contact. "I promise you, as your cousin, that I'll make sure the kid doesn't get himself killed."
He broke the connection and stood from his chair. "I wish you luck, Cissy," he said, before leaving through a different door, presumably out to the formal dining room.
Narcissa had never felt so alone.
Narcissa felt someone prod her shoulder repeatedly and she woke from her spot on the table. "Sorry," she apologized, looking around to see who had risen her. It was Fleur, she was smiling down at her and shrugged her apology aside.
"We're ready for you now," said Fleur gently.
"Severus is finished?" Narcissa asked.
Fleur nodded. "He left through the floo an hour ago. Bill and I have been recovering." she explained.
It was slightly disheartening to hear that Severus had left without so much as a goodbye. She didn't know when she'd next see him. Perhaps he'd come to visit. Though, without the incentive of Draco, there was little reason for it.
Narcissa rose from her seat and followed Fleur out into the sitting room. Bill sat there, a glass of water in his right hand. The sleeves of his white button-down were rolled up past the elbows, and his hair was tied back into its signature ponytail.
"Have you been practicing," he asked gruffly. Judging by the gleam of sweat over his face, neck, arms, and tone of voice, Bill was exhausted.
Narcissa shifted from foot to foot. "No. I… I'm afraid of messing it all up."
Bill sighed. "Like I said. You must disconnect yourself so completely from the world, that you nearly leave it. You don't care, and you regret that you don't care, and that is how you must distance yourself. Do you understand?"
Narcissa had heard these simplistic explanations more times than she could count. As a child, Regretfully Uncaring had been treated with a sort of reverence. It was a sign of a truly fantastic witch or wizard to have accomplished the feat.
It made perfect sense why Severus had known how to complete it. He was a spy, often times an arranged double agent. He'd have needed to ability to hide himself so far from his body that none, not even Voldemort himself, could possibly find it.
It was a talent he'd needed, and therefore carried.
Narcissa, on the other hand, had never needed it. The only time she could have said she'd have wanted it was in childbirth. To be able to distance the mind from the nerves and emotions of the human body and go through labour without trouble was something of an ambition for her the moment she'd fallen pregnant with Draco.
She'd worked at it for months and had nearly accomplished it. However, it all came crashing down when she'd nearly gone too far and killed herself and possibly her son in the process.
This time, she just had to push past the fear, the emotion, and the memories behind the subject, and simply occlude.
Regretfully Uncaring.
"I'm ready," she said, breaking the silence. "Let's finish this."
Bill eyed her skeptically and waited for her to break under his stare. Narcissa held her ground and eventually, he receded. "Alright," he allowed, motioning her to the corner. "I need you to disrobe."
Narcissa nodded, completely detached from what was happening. Working her way through every connection to the physical and psychological world she currently held herself to. It was a long and arduous process but attempting it while doing something as mundane as undressing oneself was one of the methods described in the ancient tomes of Grimmauld Place.
Once she finished, (pulling off her left sock) she turned and stepped towards Bill and Fleur.
Bill was flushed but professional. Staring directly into her eyes, he asked on final time, "Are you ready?"
Narcissa nodded. "Yes."
Bill cracked his neck and fingered his wand. "Start the process. Regretfully Uncaring. Begin," he instructed, coolly.
Narcissa closed her eyes and pictured her mind like a ball of earth containing all the sun, water, and nutrients a tree might need. She envisioned dozens of roots attached to this ball of earth. Surrounding it.
The tree they led to was out of view, unimportant. She didn't care about it, or what it meant. It was just a metaphor for her body, after all.
She pulled out one of the many roots and continued to do so along the ball of dirt. Root after root. Earthworms occasionally made their presence known, and she ignored them. They were nothing but a visualization of distraction. Her task was clear.
The roots were like the muggle plugs of her flat. Each connected, powering some aspect of her body.
Emotionally, she was detached, and soon, she'd be physically distant as well.
She felt her mind pulling away, the hold the tree had over her ball of dirt was weakening. Of course, this was simply her body losing its hold over her mind, but she didn't need to think about that.
It didn't matter, she didn't care.
Though, in the end, she wished she cared. She wished she could keep it all together as nature had intended, but that was not to be.
She ripped a particularly large root from the ball of earth and felt her mind distance itself properly. It was nearly disconnected.
She felt something being etched on her back, on her wrists, and on her neck.
She didn't care. It wasn't a part of her. Not now.
She wrenched another root from her mind.
Her feeling of the outside world was leaving her. The burnings of the runes being drawn over her body were fading.
She didn't care. It wasn't a part of her. Not now.
She could hear, far off in the distance, someone was shouting. She couldn't discern the words themselves, but they seemed panicked, frantic.
Something was wrong.
She didn't want to care, she tried not to. It wasn't a part of her. Not now.
But something was wrong.
Something was wrong.
The words echoed through her mind like an alarm. The roots were still disconnected, but some returned. Reaching through the darkness and weaving around the empty space, burying themselves into the ball of earth once more. Her body, reconnecting to her mind.
The physical pain was unbearable, and she could feel it now. Hear it now.
"PULL BACK!" Bill's voice was shouting, seemingly directed to her. "BRING IT ALL BACK!"
Narcissa panicked, reaching for every root in the empty space. The largest of them all was still gone. It was darkening, fading.
Then, it crumbled. Like dust being blown in the wind.
A piece of her had been destroyed.
She cared. She wished she'd cared all along.
"NARCISSA PULL BACK!"
She felt her eyes open. Her mind reattached to its body. Her senses crashing into her consciousness with the force of a reductor curse.
She stumbled back and fell. Someone caught her, probably Fleur, and laid her down gently.
She couldn't speak. Something was wrong, but she couldn't speak.
It wasn't that she couldn't physically speak. It was more the fact that she was shocked beyond concentration.
"Can you hear me? Narcissa, can you hear me?" Bill asked repeatedly. His hand on her bare shoulder.
"Yes," she mumbled. She was suddenly quite cold. It was as though a fire had been blown out deep within her very being. The largest root of them all had faded and disintegrated.
She'd destroyed a piece of herself.
"We… we did it," said Bill. He was breathless.
"What?" she asked, dazedly, still staring pointedly at the floor.
"Your name. Your person… You're Narcissa Black now,"
She turned her head to look up at him. "Then why aren't you smiling?" she asked, staring up at him.
Bill swallowed. "The rune… it's… you need to trust the curse breaker… I thought you did, but clearly some subconscious part of you didn't… then, you didn't pull back fast enough and…"
"What's happened," she demanded. Her voice grew stronger, and she felt less dizzy.
"Your magic… it's…" Bill sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's gone."
"What?" Narcissa asked, disbelievingly.
Bill sighed and waved his wand. Hers flew into his off hand, and he gifted it to her.
The warmth that typically greeted her when she grabbed hold of her wand was missing. It was nothing but a cold piece of wood.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" she said, pointing her wand at a small cup.
It wasn't like when she was a first year and was new to using a wand. No, this was different.
There was no stirring in her stomach. Now warmth up her arm.
There was no magic within her.
"I'm a muggle?" she whispered, horrified.
Bill began to apologize, spoke and explained how she could still be herself and that this happened from time to time. That she was lucky to be alive.
It fell on deaf ears. She got to her feet and dressed herself without any care for who looked at her or who cared.
She swept past Bill and Fleur, both seemed desperate to reach her, but she simply waved them off and left the manor.
She walked up the dirt lane before she realized her wand was still in her hand.
She brought it to eye level and starred. Simply starred. No thought or emotion crossed her mind, the shock ran so deep.
She took it in both hands and snapped it. It splintered and the unicorn hair from within showed itself to the world. She tossed the two halves down to the dirt path and continued her walk.
Nothing of what had just happened had hit her. No owl would find her anymore, for her magic was gone. She could no longer apparate for a quick visit to a friend.
She had no friends, however. She had no family.
There was Andromeda. The thought felt like a voice from afar. Like lightning flashing through the eyes, only for its sound to come a minute later.
She waited for the shock to disappear, but it must never leave. It must last forever, because nothing had kept her thoughts so silent for so long.
Narcissa Black was a muggle. Now, and forever.
She'd find a way to Andromeda. Somehow, she'd find a way to her sister.
Because Bella was out of Azkaban. Muggle or not, she would work with the sister she'd now chosen.
Andromeda Black.
Another pop and Sirius knew something was wrong. Narcissa had just left. The magic Bill and Fleur had attempted had failed spectacularly. Not because of the curse breakers, but the client.
He quietly left his study and entered the sitting room.
"Someone's apparated onto the property," he whispered, holding a finger to his mouth to indicate silence.
"Who?" Bill asked, matching Sirius's tone. "These wards are impenetrable."
Before Sirius could answer, a roar like the sea crashing far in the distance met his ears. The room was lit with a bright orange light from the outside. It was the middle of the night, yet the manor was lit as though they stood in the afternoon sun.
"FIENDFYRE!" Bill shouted before making a break for the kitchen. Fleur followed and Sirius hesitated for but a moment.
They ran to the back entrance and were met with more flames.
The manor was surrounded.
The fire parted, and a man with straw-coloured hair stepped through.
"Crouch." Sirius hissed.
"I saw young Draco and Lady Malfoy leave a few moments ago... Oh, and Severus," Crouch noted. "Of course, I am to leave them to the Dark Lord, but I find it interesting to see them in your company,"
"What did you do to them?" Sirius asked calmly.
Crouch smiled. "Nothing much. We let them go free. The Dark Mark cannot be destroyed,"
Sirius internally smirked at his arrogance. Proud to have outwitted Voldemort.
"Where's Voldemort then?" Sirius cried. "I heard a pop of apparition a while ago now. What's got you showing up all of sudden?"
Crouch flinched at his master's name. "Don't speak his name!" he cried. "That is how you got in this situation!"
"A Taboo," Bill muttered. "They've placed his name under taboo."
Thankful to be in the company of a curse breaker, Sirius nodded. "What do you want, Crouch?"
Crouch shrugged. "For you to watch."
The sound of glass shattering and the fire consuming wood and stone met Sirius's ears. "No!" he shouted, turning and making a vain attempt at returning to Potter Manor.
The last remnants of James and Lily.
Fleur grabbed him round the middle and kept him still. "No! The fire will destroy you! Do not hold such value in the material,"
"Easy enough for you to say!" Sirius shot back. Fleur sniffed and hauled him back. Forcing him to stand by them.
Crouch disappeared in a swirl of robes as he disaparated from the property.
"FUCK!" Bill shouted. "I didn't even get a chance to ask about Ginny,"
Sirius, now determined, shook his head at Bill. "It doesn't matter. He would have told us lies either way."
The manor was collapsing. Floppy and Flappy weren't bound to Sirius. He could do nothing for them. He hoped they could make it out without trouble, but he doubted it.
The West Wing groaned and crumbled. The flames, shaped like serpents, danced through the home.
"Let's go." Sirius spat. He grabbed Bill and Fleur's wrists and turned on the spot.
He was so unbelievably angry. So distraught over the home he'd just lost, that he'd come to the only place he could think of.
"Where are we?" Bill asked, brushing the dust off one of the bannisters with a glum expression.
"My childhood home…" answered Sirius. "Grimmauld Place."
"Oh-"
Sirius interrupted Bill. "Set up a fidelius. Make me the secret keeper. I'll be in the kitchen. The ward stone is in that room there," he pointed to a boarded-up door to their right.
"Where's the kitchen?" Bill asked.
"You'll find it," grumbled Sirius. He took four steps towards the basement kitchen when the realization struck.
If Harry and Ginny escaped, they'd go to the places they'd think of first. Potter Manor and The Burrow.
But Potter Manor was gone. Destroyed out of spite.
He didn't understand Crouch's motives whatsoever. Come in, destroy the house, and leave. He didn't stay to see if anything of value was kept there. He made no attempt to attack or harm the occupants of the manor. Tonks and Remus were on a date in London, so, they were safe. It was all so poorly thought out.
There was more going on here.
They needed a spy.
An idea formed in his mind. Sirius hesitated for a brief second before calling, "KREACHER!"
One Day Later.
The powerful and inescapable discomfort of apparition left Ron as he and Percy arrived on an unfamiliar street. Clutching the photograph in his hand, Ron and Percy both ran towards the house in front of them.
It was a simple enough thing. Ron didn't know how much muggle currency a 'dentist' made but he figured it was a sizeable sum judging by the general aura of clean Hermione's house displayed.
They had a mission. As did Bill and Fleur, though they weren't of importance for this particular journey.
He and Percy strode up the garden path and arrived at the door.
"She'd said to ring something called a doorbell," Ron muttered. "Said it was a sort of button,"
Percy reached forward with his index and pressed something on the offset of the doorframe. Ron heard a bell ring from inside.
The door swung open, and they were greeted by a tall dark man. "Can I help you?" he asked, smiling kindly without it creasing his eyes.
Ron swallowed. "Yes… we're, well, I am a friend Hermione's… from school," Mr. Granger's face changed to one of understanding and he finally allowed the smile to reach his eyes. "Anyway, there's been an urgent development in our world, and we need to speak with her immediately," Ron continued in a rush. He sounded like Ginny at that speed.
Mr. Granger beamed, evidently misinterpreting how incredibly important this whole ordeal truly was. He turned and called up the stairs, which were visible from the entrance hall. "Hermione, dear! A friend from school is here to see you!"
"Ron?" came Hermione's voice from somewhere beyond Mr. Granger.
Hermione's father turned to Ron and Percy. He gave a knowing smile. "Oh, so you're Ron…"
Ron didn't know what that was supposed to mean, so he smiled and nodded.
Mr. Granger widened the door's opening to let Ron and Percy through just as Hermione came crashing down the stairs.
"You didn't write! I had no idea you were coming! Why are you here unannounced?" Hermione blurted out with a bright smile.
Ron grimaced. "There's… erm…"
"You-Know-Who has taken over the Ministry," Percy interrupted, and Hermione's face fell. "They're going to have trials, deep in the courtrooms. They're all a front for the press. All they're going to do is take your wand and throw you in Azkaban… or worse," Percy trailed off, but Hermione evidently had a clear idea of what 'worse' was.
"Is there any way around this?" she asked. Her father had long since departed.
"Other than revolution, there's nothing we can do, really. Besides, the Wizarding community needs someone to blame for all these attacks and disasters. The Ministry is blaming muggleborns, and unfortunately, our population is mostly made up of weaker minds. So, in other words, their tactics are working," Percy explained.
Hermione drew in a slow breath. "If I don't turn myself in… what happens?"
"They'd track you down and kill you, most likely," informed Percy. "The trouble is no one actually knows the boundaries. The trials don't start until tomorrow, and I don't think you want to find out how far the Ministry… or, well, You-Know-Who, will go,"
Hermione brought her hands up to her head and pulled at her hair. "Do you have… any sort of plan?"
"Leave," said Ron, simply. "You have family in France, right?"
Hermione nodded.
"Go there. We'll take your family and hide you out of England. That's what dad's been telling people. Get out of the country," Ron insisted. "We have a boat set up for you far south. We'll apparate you lot down.
Hermione tapped her hand against her thigh repeatedly and took in another deep breath. "I'll need your help explaining this all to my parents… I've never told them about all the issues that plague our world… and I haven't said a word of Voldemort's return,"
Ron nodded while Percy flinched. They waited in complete silence for a moment before Percy and Ron both sighed in relief. "What?" Hermione asked. "Why the dramatic sighs?"
"Taboo. You-Know-Who's name is taboo," Ron explained. "Bill told us this morning,"
Hermione nodded her understanding, but didn't seem to be entirely focused on what they had explained.
Simplifying wizarding politics wasn't exactly difficult. Hermione kept comparing it to racism, which Ron couldn't exactly disagree with. They were quite similar.
The trouble was convincing them to leave. As far as they were aware, their worlds were separate and as long as Hermione didn't interact with it, they would be safe.
Eventually, Percy intervened.
"Listen, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, your daughter is a gifted witch. You do honestly wish to take that away from her?"
Hermione's parents shook their heads.
"If you go to France, she can continue to train and learn at their magical academy. The stronger she becomes, the safer you all are. You'll need protection, especially seeing as I'm not sure whether or not the Ministry will follow you across borders," Percy trailed off. "The point is, you need protection, and your daughter is your best bet. Without proper training, however, she'll be gone in a matter of weeks, as will you,"
Mr. and Mrs. Granger shuddered, and Percy nodded. "So, do you accept our help in getting your things packed? You need to leave today at least."
"Today?" cried Mrs. Granger in horror. "I haven't had the time to call off work or call the bank!"
"The bank can be sorted out over the phone, mum," Hermione huffed. "Voldemort is a real threat. We need to go. Now!"
As Hermione got up, all the glass of the windows on Hermione's house shattered. Glass flew everywhere and Ron quickly grabbed hold of Hermione arm and pulled her to the floor.
Shellfire shot around the room. A bright orange curse struck Mr. Granger right in the chest, throwing him back and through the once pristine window on the opposite side of the room.
"DAD!" Hermione cried, scrambling forward.
Ron gripped her ankle to stop her.
"Let go, Ron! LET GO!" Hermione kicked abut Ron's grip persevered.
"COME OUT COME OUT GRANGER!" a male voice cackled from outside the house. "You dare say your master's name aloud? Tut-tut."
Percy was pinning down a silently weeping Mrs. Granger with his left arm, while bringing his index to his mouth in a non-verbal silencing gesture.
"Who's this?" Ron heard another man say, seemingly to himself. The voice was coming from where Mr. Granger had been sent flying.
"Just a muggle," a woman's voice replied. "He's dead anyway,"
Ron felt Hermione's leg slacken and a whimper emanated from Mrs. Granger's throat.
"ALRIGHT!" the first man's voice rung out. Now that Ron was paying better attention, he recognized the voice.
It was Barty Crouch Jr.
"Seeing as you're not cooperating, we're going to give you a nice little ultimatum," Crouch continued. "Come out in the next ten seconds, or this house burns to the ground!"
Hermione remained still, and Ron thanked her for that.
Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Mrs. Granger, who pushed Percy away from her and got to her feet. "We don't mean any harm! Just… she doesn't want to practice magic anymore! I swear it! Just… let us go!"
"Crucio!" Crouch screamed. An orange spell caught her and lifted her up off the ground. She screamed and writhed up in the air, her back against the ceiling. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Hermione wept on the floor, forced to watch the display.
"MUM! STOP IT. STOP!" Hermione cried, but it was no use. Crouch continued his use of the spell on the woman and Ron heard footsteps from the kitchen, which was the room over from the sitting room.
Making a split second decision, Ron nodded to Percy and pulled Hermione's leg to drag her away from the sitting room. Mrs. Granger's screams wracked the household.
Ron got to his feet and pulled Hermione up with him. "Do you have your wand?" Ron asked. Hermione didn't respond.
He repeated his question a dozen more times before Hermione finally said yes and drew it from the back pocket of her jeans.
An explosion blasted through the wall into the sitting room, and Ron and Percy aimed their wands at it.
Hermione wasted no time in firing a stunning spell at the cloud of dust. It didn't hit a target and was countered by a torture curse coming straight at them from the plume.
Percy ducked, as it was closest to him, and moved into a different position.
Hermione and Ron were backed against the stairwell. The front door lay to their right.
"On the count of three, we go for the door," Ron spoke out the corner of his mouth, and Hermione nodded. "One, two,"
Before he reached three, the door was blasted off its hinges and nearly collided with the two teens. Its progress was halted mid-air and thrown back out from where it came, striking the death eater who had been standing there. Ron turned and saw Percy, eyebrows raised with his wand held high.
"Thanks Perce!" Ron cried.
He grabbed Hermione's hand and hauled her forward toward the now open doorway. Again, their progress was driven to a standstill. This time, by a tall, filthy man with long nails and rotting teeth.
Ron backed away, a protective arm over Hermione.
The man sniffed the air. "I thought I smelt it… Weasley blood!" the man jeered.
"GREYBACK!" Ron froze at the realization. "CRUCIO!" Percy bellowed. The orange jet of light met its mark, but the man batted it away without concern.
"Ron! Up!" Hermione shouted, climbing over the banister and onto the stairs. Ron quickly clambered after her, missing Greyback's swing by mere inches.
More Death Eaters were entering the house now. It was pure chaos. Dust and spells flew everywhere. The house groaned overtop its foundations. Percy was paying the defensive. Levitating objects in the way of any torture curses or other unknown spells, while deflecting the simplistic ones. He threw a decorative bench at Greyback, temporarily halting his progress.
Percy cast a final shield charm and leapt over the banister and pushed Ron and Hermione up the stairs.
"IT'S BEEN FAR LONGER THAN A MERE TEN SECONDS!" Crouch roared. "I think it's time we have some fun!"
Mrs. Granger's screams finally ceased, and Ron, Hermione, and Percy heard her body drop to the floor. No sound emanated from below after that. Hermione whimpered.
They quickly made their way into Hermione's room. With a wave of his wand, Percy shut the curtains.
The silence was deafening. Every creak and groan of the battered house caused one of the three of them to flinch.
Then, without warning, the drywall and beams of the wall to which Hermione and Ron had their backs pressed against gave way. Greyback burst through it. He reached forward and, because Ron had been standing in front, grabbed him by the throat.
"NO! NOT AGAIN!" Percy hollered. Jumping over Hermione's bed and leaping through the air, crashing against Greyback's body. The werewolf stumbled and dropped Ron to the floor. He rubbed his bruised neck, gasping for breath.
Percy punched and kicked at every piece of Greyback he could reach.
"AAARGH!" Greyback roared and scratched his hand down Percy's face. One of his nails caught on Percy's eye, and he screamed.
Blood streamed down his face as Percy clutched his left eye. Greyback laughed and took a step towards the fallen Weasley. Ron making a logical comparison to the troll of his first year, waved his wand and cried, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Hermione's bed was lifted and through the air, and smashed into Greyback, forcing him back into the other room.
"Go! Let's go!" Hermione shouted, pulling on Ron's hand now and reaching for Percy.
A woman pushed the door down. Her hair was held elegantly. She may have once been quite beautiful had her eyes not been twisted and evil. "You're lucky you're a pure-blood, Weasleys! If it wasn't for that, you'd be the first to go!" she cackled.
Hermione threw a stunning spell her way, but the woman deflected it easily.
A tremendous roar could be heard outside Hermione's room. It was like the wind, only more ominous.
Ron, without really thinking, threw his fist forward and let it sink into the woman's fine features. She stumbled back, struck hard.
Hermione waved her wand and muttered a spell. The bedsheets that had fallen when Ron had thrown her bed through the wall twisted and soared forward, wrapping the woman up while she was least expecting it.
Hermione manually pulled back her curtains and stared outside.
The room was illuminated orange, and Ron couldn't for the life of him understand why. He was currently bent over Percy, trying to get him to move.
He looked up through the window and gasped.
Fire. Fire surrounded the house in a frantic storm. The woman wrapped in blankets was breaking free, and Ron could hear Greyback getting to his feet in the room opposite.
"I'm going to die here," Percy whispered over and over.
"Percy. You aren't going to die here!" Ron hissed through gritted teeth. He hauled Percy up and threw his arm around his shoulder. "OUT THROUGH THE WINDOW" Ron yelled over the roar of the firestorm.
Hermione nodded and carefully clambered out of the shattered window. Glass stuck to her clothes and dug into her skin, but she ignored it. Ron did the same, helping Percy through as best he could.
They were standing on her roof now, but they could go higher.
"Can he apparate?" Hermione asked shrilly. The fire was coming closer, and pops of disapparition from within the house could be heard.
The Death Eaters were clearing out.
"Percy! Percy, can you get us out of here?" Ron asked, his mouth essentially pressed against his brother's ear.
Percy nodded shakily and shook free of Ron's grasp. "I can walk," he complained, still holding a hand over the bloodied left side of his face.
He grabbed hold of Ron's hand, who in turn, grabbed Hermione's.
Percy turned on the spot and Ron felt sick to his stomach. He kept a firm hand clasped in Hermione's when finally, finally, they landed.
They were at a port. The boat Ron, Percy, Bill and Fleur had had arranged to France lay in front of them. It wasn't too far. They, as a group, began to make their way towards the boat.
Pops of apparition followed them, however.
"You really think the taboo lasts for but a few seconds? It's still on you!" Crouch was back, his wand held high.
"RUN!" Ron cried. Hand in hand he and Hermione ran as fast as they possibly could towards the sturdy boat they'd rented. Its driver, a man named Mungdungus Fletcher, eyed them warily.
Another two pops of apparition landed in front of them, and Ron nearly bowled through them. It was Bill and Fleur.
"RON, HERMIONE, KEEP GOING!" Bill instructed. "Me, Fleur and Perce will cover you!"
Ron didn't need any further convincing. He ran outright, Hermione right alongside him.
They clattered down the stone steps into the lower harbour and the boat and its driver were in better view.
"Come on then!" Mungdungus shouted. "I don't want to hang around all day!"
"GET THE SHIP READY!" Ron screamed. A spell shot directly over his shoulder. He didn't know what was happening behind him, but he hoped Bill, Fleur, and Percy were holding their ground.
The docks were slippery, and Hermione almost fell a few times, her wand clutched in her cold hands.
They reached the gangplank and Ron stepped aboard the ship, still holding Hermione's hand.
Colin and Dennis Creevey, their family, along with Dean Thomas and his family were already there. Bill had been tasked with the Thomas's, and Fleur had rescued the Creevey's. They were they only ones Ron knew in Gryffindor that were certainly muggle-born.
Hermione stood there, Ron staring into her watery eyes. "I'm sorry," Ron whispered. "I'm sorry for your parents. I'm sorry we couldn't get your things. I'm sorry."
Hermione shook her head, dismissing the thoughts of her parents, most likely.
Shouted spells and the crackle of magic could be heard. Ron took a step off the ship, so he was standing back on the dock.
The sails unfurled and Ron, not knowing when he'd next see her, took a risk.
She seemed to be thinking along the same lines, as just when he leaned forward, she mirrored his movements, her eyelids fluttering closed.
They kissed. The sounds of screaming and an explosion rang off far in the distance. Ron's head bowed to meet her height.
Neither deepened the kiss, but it meant the world to Ron.
The boat began to move, and with it, Hermione left also.
Their lips separated and she moved away from him, smiling sadly.
"Be safe!" she cried, tears streaming down her face.
Ron nodded against the pressure behind his eyes. "I'll write!" he yelled, but before he knew it, the ship was veiled away into a notice me not charm. Dung was known for smuggling substances, so, his ships could turn practically invisible.
Ron stared at the open sea for a moment before swallowing and running back up the stairs to help his brothers and Fleur.
Bill, Fleur, and Percy were standing in the street, which now lay deserted. Bill was casting explosive spells at the cobblestone in frustration.
"They left," Percy informed him. "We had the upper hand and they just left."
"Will the taboo follow Hermione to France?" Ron asked worriedly.
Fleur smiled sympathetically at his concern and Bill answered, panting between words. "No. It's worn off already either way. I don't know how they managed to set up such a complex spell so fast. Or why Vol-You-Know-Who's strongest followers came to you… but it is what it is, I suppose," he spat bitterly.
Ron nodded.
"Why was Greyback there," Percy ground out, sitting on the floor. His left eye was completely red, Ron couldn't see what had happened to it.
"He's a mercenary, Perce, I couldn't tell you," said Bill, his voice filled with equal anger.
Fleur shook her head. "Non… he is building something. remember? He said he was building something."
"Maybe he wants the work?" Ron offered. "He's deranged… I can't say I'd be surprised if he wanted to do it…"
"Who else was there?" Percy asked. "Did you recognize any of them?"
Bill nodded. "Bellatrix and Redolphus Lestrange. Lucius wasn't there… oh, and Barty Crouch… you already mentioned Greyback… that was it."
Ron clenched his fist and let out a long breath. "If those are Death Eaters… I don't know how Ginny and Harry have a chance,"
Bill's shoulders drooped. "I know."
"Dolores!" Pius Thicknesse greeted. "I'm glad you could make it… sit… sit…"
Umbridge sat in front of the new Minister. She was as determined as ever to remain the Minister's right-hand man, so to speak.
Cornelius had been welcoming of her approaches, and she expected Pius to treat her with similar respect.
"Firstly, congratulations, Minister," she applauded, "I'm pleased with the results. I have been a supporter of yours for months now." she let out a girlish giggle. "Of course, you already knew that…"
Pius chuckled. "Yes… now, I was wondering if you would like a sort of… change in workflow,"
Umbridge's smile faltered. "How so?"
"These… mudbloods are tearing up our society," he spoke silkily. "We are going to be interrogating each and every one to see how exactly they stole our magic and decide whether or not they should be punished… now…" he stood form his chair and walked around the office, staring out the charmed window with his hands folded behind his back.
"I ask you to lead this program. I want you to interrogate them personally. I believe you know which ones should be punished and which should be excused… if any… Tell me, Dolores, are you interested in such a task?" Pius turnaround to face her.
Umbridge shifted in her seat. "May I make… a suggestion, Minister?" Pius inclined his head. "Once the next school term begins, I believe it is my responsibility to keep Hogwarts… quite secure, and up to standard… So, yes, for the summer months, I will lead these interrogations, but when term begins, I'd like to be placed at Hogwarts. Evaluate those who need evaluation and commemorate those who deserve the recognition."
Pius smiled. "Why, I believe that is a fantastic idea… a restructuring of the education system is in order as well, yes… well, thank you for your time, Dolores. I think you can see yourself out,"
"Thank you very much, Minister," said Umbridge kindly, rising from her seat. "Will I maintain my previous position?"
Pius grinned. "You will remain undersecretary, yes… you'll have more responsibility now, however. I trust you will handle it well?"
Umbridge nodded. "Yes, of course,"
"While you're at it… tell Scrimgeour that I need him to halt the investigation on Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley's whereabouts immediately."
Umbridge nodded without question. "I'll inform them now. Thank you, Minister,"
"You're very welcome," replied Pius.
August 6th, 1995. Seventeen days later…
Harry Potter had lived in the United Kingdom all his life, yet he'd never despised rain as much as he did at this very moment.
He was trudging through mud with the hood of his robes over his head being the only thing in the way of the torrential downpour that had befallen he and Ginny.
Ginny, unfortunately, wasn't of much help. She was currently curled in his arms in her fox form as he took step by mucky step through wherever it was they were.
After her declaration following their escape from The Riddle House, she'd fallen asleep again.
This drowsiness had persisted for weeks now. She'd wake to eat and drink and then for the rest of the day, would be completely out.
On the second day of practically zero progress, Harry had asked her to transform into her animagus form so he could carry her around.
She was light, it was true, but it didn't help his balance much when his arms were always hugging a small animal so close to his body.
He'd had nothing but his mother for company, but even she was distant. Her voice fading in and out of existence as time stretched by. Harry wondered if she was pulling away from him, or if there was something in the food he'd eaten that had placed some sort of restraint on his connection with his mother. Either way, it was infuriating and worrisome, not to mention saddening.
The cold wind was blistering as he finally made it off the path and onto smooth pavement. He walked down the flooded streets, head bowed, until he reached a dark side street. The elder wand couldn't be tracked by the Ministry, something he'd conveniently forgotten over the time that had come between his first meeting with Dumbledore following his bite.
He leant against a wall and looked down at the sleeping fox in his arms.
Truthfully, she was quite cute. It was just that carrying a fox so far for so many days was becoming quite tiresome.
He saw a raven flap into the alleyway behind them. It cawed from the depths of impeding darkness. A distant thunderclap met his ears.
"Strange animal to be keeping in your arms, don't you think, Potter?"
Harry froze. The voice had come from down the alleyway. "Who's there?" he asked, trying to figure out the best way to remove his wand without dropping Ginny.
"Don't bother with your wand I'm not here to touch you, harm you, or take you or your little friend there," the voice continued.
Harry was no fool, he knew this man was creating a false sense of security. "What do you want?"
"I'd wager that's the wrong question to be asking," the man continued. He had a distinct accent, seemingly Eastern European.
"Then what should I be asking?" Harry countered.
He could have sworn he heard the man's lips crack open into a smile. There was still no light permeating through the space. Only the now eerily quiet pitter-patter of the rain.
It seemed distant, now.
"Why, you should be asking what I can provide, of course,"
Harry took a step back. The voice was closer now. He couldn't be more than five steps ahead of him.
"Show yourself!" Harry cried.
He heard a muttered Lumos, and a bright light came from Harry's right. He swung around to see what it was, but the light moved with him. It was coming from his own wand tucked behind his ear.
The Elder Wand.
"Yes, old friends recognize each other, I'd say," the man said, now clearly in view from the light of Harry's wand, essentially acting as a headlamp. He seemed to be roughly the same age as Dumbledore. His hair was well kept, but his beard was trimmed short. His clothes were quite fashionable. He could pass for a posh old muggle gentleman if that had been his goal.
But Harry knew this wasn't his goal.
"Don't worry, I'm not here to take the wand," he laughed. "It is yours and yours alone. That little trick is just a bit of… well, let's say it's muscle memory."
Harry waited patiently, ready to run or kick or do whatever he could to fight as long as he kept a firm hold on Ginny.
"What do you want?" Harry repeated.
The aged man stuck his hands deep within his pockets. Harry prepared for a wand to be drawn, but instead, he was greeted with a man casually standing, making no move to antagonize.
It was deeply unsettling.
"I am pleased to see you have yet to let your guard down, Potter. It would have been foolish of you to accept my presence so quickly. Now, I ask that you keep this vigilance. It is important to remain aware,"
Harry didn't like the way he was being lectured by this mystery man. "I asked you a question," he said.
The man rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yes, well, this is why I am here," from seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a large muggle duffle bag. "There are healing supplies, pepper-up potions, and various other things you'll need on your travels. The Chamber Girl will need a few of these as soon as possible. She needs her strength back, and that powerful display on the full moon was most draining. All the potions she'll need are labeled in red,"
"Why are you helping us?" Harry asked.
"You are hunting horcruxes, are you not?" the man asked casually. "The answer is yes; I know it for a fact. Now, I ask that you take great care with your mission. You will meet allies, then you will meet foes. You will travel far, and you will have to forgive many. Remember to trust the clock, for it is always ticking faster," he paused. "Rarely does it move backwards,"
Harry stared in disbelief at the man. He smiled and backed away into shadow. The tip of the Elder Wand went dark, and Harry called out on final question, "Who are you?"
"I am the resurgence. I am the reckoning. I am the clock." the man's voice flittered out of the dark. "The Clock is ticking faster, Mr. Potter, and you are the seconds hand!"
And then he left. The pop of disapparition echoed through the dark alleyway. Leaving a confused Harry and a sleeping Ginny behind. The rain and sounds of the street behind him returned. Seemingly magnified after the time spent with them muffled.
Harry hesitated, shifted Ginny over his shoulder so he could carry her with one arm, and hoisted the duffle bag off the ground.
He did not trust the man, but Ginny needed to heal.
Soon.
A/N: It goes without saying that Ron/Hermione is not a pairing in this story. This kiss is sort of a goodbye to that relationship as a hole.
Especially since Ron doesn't see her for a while after this.
When will we next see Hermione? Soon. I promise. She's as important as Ginny, Harry, Ron and Daphne by the end of this story.
No she doesn't have a pairing. Maybe FWB with Dean, haven't decided. Either way, it won't be a part of the story.
Also, had a review that said something along the lines of Daphne not caring about her little sister hiding a boy etc.
Daphne doesn't even know Draco's there. The joke isn't about sex. It's about activities but uh, not sex. Reread that portion if you're confused.
Draco is in fact "a little bitch" in this story, but he's a part of it, and I think that separating him from his father and Voldemort so early on will benefit him as a person. He's about to be HUMBLED quite aggressively now that he's on his own. On top of that, he won't be able to contact his mother thanks to the fact that he doesn't know her address, and can't use owl post on a muggle.
He is well and truly on his own, and I think we're going to see that this pampered little shit learns very quickly how the world works and what's important.
Thanks for reading!
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