Bella detesta convictio



Lupin put down his copy of the Daily Prophet, clearly shaken. He hadn't even opened it enough to find the headline, just that picture. The Dark Mark, floating above a very familiar house. He picked it back up, looking closer, trying to identify it. The last thing he saw was the sign by the front.

May the gods help us, he thought. They've got the Weasleys again. With a masochistic curiosity, he unfolded the paper and read the article. Molly, dead. Arthur, tortured to the point of insanity. William, Charles, Percy, Ron, accounted for. Fredrick, physically tortured, should recover. George, trapped in a coma, may recover. Virginia, missing, presumed dead.

It just kept getting worse. Remus had known Molly for years. She had lived next door to him for two years before he started school. His mother hadn't known they were wizards when she moved in, or she undoubtably would have gone somewhere else, price be hanged. Molly had been the one who told him about Hogwarts. When he had been old enough to remember anything his mother told him, the incident had already happened, and she didn't want to give him any false hopes. Molly didn't know, of course, and loved to go on to Remus about her classes, and the castle, and how great it was. She had taken them a plate of cookies when they first moved in, and somehow they connected. She was the youngest in a large family, and the lonely girl took him in as a younger brother. He had taken the family in, after the first time, and helped them find the Burrow. She had known about him by then, but it was a week after the full moon, and he was sure to get them settled with time to spare.

She had introduced him to Arthur at dinner the first night. He was a very nice boy, top of the Muggle Studies class, and happy to help Remus with anything he wanted to talk about. They hadn't known each other as well, of course, since Arthur was already a seventh year when he started, but they had gotten on rather well. And besides, the two of them had always been so kind to Harry. They had really taken him in, more so than his relatives ever had.

Fred and George. He remembered having them in one of his first classes. He had taken a quick liking to them. Their twin mischievous grins were too familiar to resist. And for all the other teachers said of them, they were smart boys. And their pranks were good-natured, if occasionally embarrassing. If they had been malicious in their teasing, they would have been punished much more. He had gotten one of their trick wands his first day, and they continued to 'leave' him things about once a week. He didn't mind, not really. It reminded him of James and Sirius, and it kept him on his toes, figuring out how to reverse the charms and transfigurations.

But his eyes kept returning to 'Virginia, missing, presumed dead.' He remembered her first lesson as well. She was a little pixie of a girl, with pale skin and short cropped red hair. She didn't have the eyes, though. On close examination, the rings under her eyes were evident. And though she tried to hide it, he often saw a dead look in her eyes, or a trapped one. He had enough experience with picking up the little things to catch some clue of her problem. He had asked her about it once. They were discussing dementors, and the topic of the Death Eaters came up, as he had expected it to. She started looking apprehensive, and by the end of the lesson she was biting her lip, almost bouncing out of her chair, and close to tears. He had asked her to stay after to talk to him about something.

"What is it, Professor?" she had asked.

"What's wrong, Virginia?"

"What? Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

"You were going crazy today. Did something happen?"

"I'm fine, Professor." She grew cold. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Was it about the Death Eaters? It's okay to talk to me about these things, I know a lot about them. That's what I'm here for."

Apparently it was the wrong thing to ask. She turned back to her desk, gathered up her things, and left the room without looking at him. He had asked Albus about it, later, and felt guilty once he found out. Poor child. Poor Virginia. Virginia, missing, 'presumed dead'. Finally, he gave up and wrote to Albus, offering his services to the family, and to the search efforts.





Disclaimer: I do not own Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, The Daily Prophet, Arthur, Molly, William, Charles, Percy, Fredrick, George, Ronald, or Virginia Weasley. I didn't make any money out of their use.



A/N: Thank you all those who have read this far. This story is a sequel to enoimreH's A Night To Remember, which she will probably let me steal soon so they can be located together (for obvious reasons). And big thanks goes out to Jobey for accidentally dropping the plotbunny into my arms. And if you ask, I will tell you what the chapter titles mean.



To my reviewer:



Green Eyed Lady-I meant that in comparison to this it wasn't depressing and sadistic. This was originally the first part, but I realized, while more of a shocker, this is just too much to open a story with. This is obviously worse than that one, and let me tell you, it didn't feel good to write those parts. The sister is explained more in future chapters, and in the companion piece that will soon be born from the other plotbunny that 'someone' *elbows and glares* dropped on me. I'm glad this writing worked. Part of it may be that I wrote the first 4 chapters or so of this without real pause the first night I got the idea. Anyway, thanks for reading.