DISCLAIMER: Good Lord. I don't own Harry Potter, okay? Do not sue.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
REUNION AND PLANS
There was a lot of shrubbery, nothing more. Certainly not the grand affair that Sean was expecting. Though he was reluctant to admit it to Remus, he'd actually been excited to visit a dragon colony. He had imagined a big field with cages as tall as buildings, and that he'd be able to see massive fireballs shooting up into the sky from an hour away. He thought the ground would be shaking and men would be running around in every direction screaming at each other. It was going to be madness, he had been sure of it.
But it was a like a swamp. The ground was soggy, and all around there were signs reading: KEEP OUT and DANGER, QUICKSAND. Another sign, tacked to the door of a rotting outhouse, which was nailed shut, read: CONDEMNED.
"Ah ha," said Remus, and he marched forward.
"We're not actually going in there, are we?"
"Yes. Come along."
"Can't you read?" Sean cried.
Remus stopped. "It's a diversion for Muggles, Sean. Have you never left Outer Hogsmeade?"
"Of course I have. I've been to Hogwarts. Almost all seven years of it. And Diagon Alley, of course."
"Unbelievable."
"What?"
"Nothing. Let's away. We should have been here yesterday."
"You should have been here yesterday," stressed Sean indignantly, but started to follow Remus through the brush, "I should be at home."
When they came to the outhouse, Remus rolled up his sleeves and reached into his robe for his wand, then remembered for the tenth time that he didn't have it.
"Great idea, this was," Sean taunted, "Good thinking, too, by the way; leaving that warehouse without getting our wands back."
Remus only grunted, trying to pry up a wet branch from the nearby tangle of plants.
"What in Merlin's Beard are you going to do with that?"
Remus stood, slightly out of breath, brandishing a frayed twig that he managed to pull off a tree. He pushed his hair away from his face and cleared his throat. As an afterthought he pushed Sean backward a little. He poised the makeshift wand.
"Alohomora!" cried Remus. The door flew upon. He yelped and dropped the stick, clutching his hand and cursing under his breath. His palm appeared to be steaming.
"What did you do?"
Remus ripped a strip off his robes and wrapped it around his hand. "Don't ever use a piece of wood as a wand unless its an emergency. Or anything else, for that matter."
Sean couldn't help but laugh. "I'll keep that in mind."
Behind the outhouse door was a hallway. A not too shabby hallway, either, Sean thought, if someone were to mop it. But he still wasn't impressed. The plants that lined the short corridor were yellow and dead. Straight ahead of them was a huge iron gate, which would have looked cool, but directly to the right of it there was a person, a couple of years older than Sean, asleep on top of a large metal desk. As if that weren't unprofessional enough, he had shaggy hair and was dressed in plaid pajamas and fuzzy slippers. He was snoring loudly. Below him, tape to the front of the desk, was a scrolling, flashing sign that read:
Hello, my name is Michael Fitzgerald. Call me Fitzie. It is a pleasure to have you here today. I am delighted to be your tour guide and customer service representative at Zeta, the Last Romanian Colony for Dragons. No, there are still plenty other colonies around, we're just the newest. Our touring hours are 12-5 pm, May through September. It is not May yet, so I'm terribly sorry, but if you aren't on the visitor's list of any of our employees, you simply cannot be allowed in, and there is no reason to wake me. Please feel free to check for your name on the parchment to your left. Just write the name of the person you wish to visit, as well as your own, and the gates will magically open if your are part of their list. It's just that simple! Please think long and hard before you wake me. Thank you and good day, Fitzie.
"Hello there! We would like to speak to Charlie Weasley, please!" Remus declared after reading the note aloud.
The young man snorted awake. "Not so loud, please! I've got a bit of a hangover, you know what I mean? I'm sorry, you must be blind. The sign says no tourists. But do come back in a month, and thank you for calling on all of us here at Zeta, the Last-"
"It's an emergency. I must speak to Charlie Weasley."
Fitzie gazed blearily at him, looking very resentful and irritated. "Mr. Highly-Qualified-Second-In-Command? Oh, you'll find that dolt on the top floor, bloody pissed out of his bloody gourd. First door on the left. He was supposed to be manning the front door today, not me. I'm supposed to be in bed with my wife."
"Thank you," said Remus, "Will you kindly open the gates for us?"
Fitzie looked suspiciously at him. "Who are you? His uncle or something?"
"Well- not exactly..."
"Whatever," Fitzie waved them through before promptly going back to sleep.
Upon entering the building, loud music blasted at them from every direction. Sean had no idea that dragon colonies were run in such a lax manner. There was trash and empty bottles everywhere. At the end of another short hallway was a large common area full of sagging sofas. On the sofas were young men and woman, all looking as sleepy and unenthused as Fitzie at the gate. Some were reading many-week-old issues of the Daily Prophet, some seated around tables playing poker and chess, some staring at a little radio in the corner, and still more, just laying there in a foggy-eyed sloth. Sean spotted a rather cute girl and was about to ask her where she bought her robe, but Remus drug him up the stairs.
A tall man with wild blond hair answered the door and did not look surprised to see two strangers. In fact, he wore a weary expression that indicated he would not be surprised by anything.
"Good morning," said Remus, holding out his hand. "Remus J. Lupin."
The man obliged and shook it. "Ian Bergeson. What can I do for you?"
"We're here to see Charlie Weasley."
Ian began to blubber, which Sean found to be very funny. "Are you a Ministry inspector? Because I know the place isn't looking so hot, but Sam our supervisor has been out sick and Charlie supposed to have taken over but he's been having some family prob-"
"No, I'm not an inspector. We would just like speak to him, please. It's rather important."
Ian looked relieved, to a degree, but still rather nervous. "I don't think you want to see him right now. He's a bit… out of sorts."
"So we heard," Sean muttered.
Remus assured him that it was an emergency, and Ian reluctantly let them in.
The shades were closed and poor light was bleeding in through the curtains, causing the disarray that was the flat seem even messier. The air was stale and smelt of alcohol and clammy bodies.
Sean coughed dramatically in disapproval and scowled at Remus. He went to the sofa and moved the pillows carefully away, as if they were diseased, and sat.
The man who was Charlie was lying on his side on the floor, next to the table in the kitchen. Near his hand was an empty bottle of liquor, which had apparently rolled away at whatever point he had lost consciousness and fallen off his chair. A man with plain features and a backward Muggle baseball cap was sweeping around him, pushing broken glass under the icebox. Ian introduced him as Scott.
Ian gestured toward Charlie's unconscious body. "There he is."
"Visitors, Chazmonster," tittered Scott, poking Charlie on the cheek with the straw of the broom.
Charlie just laid there.
"A Mr. Remus Lupin to see you, Charlie," Ian said loudly.
Charlie mumbled something that sounded like, "go away."
"It's about your brother, Charlie," said Remus.
Charlie flinched and rolled over on his stomach, hiding his face.
"That's no way to get his attention," Scott told them. He bent down to Charlie's ear, and was opening his mouth and filling his lungs to scream, which no doubt would have proved disastrous. It was lucky that just then a man materialized from nowhere, way up near the ceiling, and came crashing swiftly down. Everyone jumped back. Under the weight of him falling, the kitchen table cracked down the middle, scattering wood chippings everywhere.
"OUCH!" The man cried, looking rather embarrassed. He stood and brushed himself off, then noticed Charlie, lying under one half of the demolished table. "Charlie, what are you doing on the floor?"
"Now who are you?" Ian demanded.
The man was oblivious to anyone around him. He pulled out his wand and tried to revive Charlie, but his wand only fizzed and coughed. He sighed. "Charlie it's Bill. Get up."
"Hope you're not another brother come back to life."
"Jesus, Scott! Shut up!"
"What did you say?" said Bill suspiciously.
"Sorry. He said, 'who are you?'"
"I'm Charlie's elder brother. What's wrong with him?"
"Well isn't it obvious?" Scott replied, "He's pissed."
"Scott!"
"Could one of you wake him? I'm afraid I'm a bit out of practice-"
"I'll have nothing to do with it," said Scott, continuing to sweep, "That boy's scary when he first wakes up, especially after polishing off a bottle the night before."
"He does this often?" said Bill worriedly.
Scott shrugged. Bill turned to Remus, who did the same.
"I'd revive him, but I haven't got my wand," Remus explained.
He and Bill exchanged formalities and stood together over Charlie with their hands on their hips, wondering what to do. Neither one of his roommates was willing to wake him, and not only that, they promptly abandoned their chores and left the flat. Bill tried again and failed. Remus tried with Bill's wand, and Charlie's eyes flew open for a moment, then sagged shut again.
"We'll try it the hard way, then," Remus decided, carefully plucking a bowl out of the mountain of dirty dishes. He filled it with water, then muttered a spell that caused it to become so cold that Sean could see chunks of ice floating around in it.
"Ah," said Bill, chuckling slightly, "He's not going to like this. Better let me do it. He might murder you- he'll just settle for beating the shit out of me."
Ignoring Bill's recommendation to stand back, Sean tried not to laugh when moments later Charlie sat straight up, soaking wet, sputtering and protesting. About a cupful of the freezing water was all it took to revive him, but Bill poured the entire bowl over his brother's head, then shook off the remaining drops of water.
"GAH!" Charlie squawked. "Wha- wh- huh?"
"That teaches you to get so bloody pissed!" Bill scolded, "What do you think you're doing, getting all drunk like this? You could have easily never woke up from your stupor!"
"Bill!" Charlie cried happily, "Bill, you sorry bastard! What the hell are you doing here?"
Bill helped him off the floor and they hugged, patting each other lovingly on the back.
"Easy, little brother," Bill wheezed.
"Sorry. So how are you? Gods Bill, you look like shit. Don't they ever let you outside? Look how pale you are!"
"Don't you try and change the subject," Bill said, removing Charlie's hands from his face. "I want an answer, Charles. What are you, trying to kill yourself?"
Charlie quickly turned to Remus. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"We've got some talking to do," said Remus.
"I knew you had a drinking problem," Bill continued, "But really, Charles, lying out on the kitchen floor like a-"
"Leave off! You don't know what happened last night." Charlie said as he dried himself and fixed the table.
And Sean sat away from everyone else, picking at his fingernails, bored out of his skull, as Remus told Charlie and Bill about the boxcars and the field and the full moon. Thankfully he omitted certain parts, like how Sean had tried to tear Remus apart with his normal teeth, and how he'd cried like a little girl when they'd gone back to his place and found that his family was gone.
Then Charlie started talking, in a shrill, broken voice, and though Sean pretended he wasn't listening so that Remus wouldn't send him out of the room, he hung on every word. Charlie spoke of his twins brothers, and creepy stuff about one of them dying, and how somehow someone who look exactly like him had shown up in the flat the night before, out of nowhere.
Bill sighed heavily and asked of Charlie, "Did he really look like George?"
"Yes. Exactly. And not like Fred does now- like they did when they were younger- that was the scary thing. He was even wearing those same pajamas…" Charlie trailed off, holding his breath, his eyes growing watery. He looked off at nothing, as if reliving a horrible memory. He folded his hands in front of his face, and Sean could see them shaking, even from across the room.
Bill was looking skeptical. He shook his head at Charlie. "And you let them go. You actually let our poor brother walk out the door thinking he had his George back?"
"I couldn't handle it! I didn't know what to do! Fred was so bloody positive that it wasn't someone trying to trick him, and I know it couldn't have been Polyjuice-"
"How could you do that, Charlie?"
"And what would you have had me do?"
"Well not just let him go, surely! Tell somebody? Reason with him?"
Sean saw that Charlie was getting angry. "You're talking about our brother Fred, Bill. Ever tried to reason with Fred?"
Bill continued to shake his head, as if terribly disappointed. "I just thought you were stronger than that."
"What would you have done?" Charlie snarled, his face tearing up, "What if fucking George had walked into your bedroom one day?"
"You should have kept them here, Charlie," Bill said quietly, "You're his big brother. You're supposed to watch out for him."
"GOD DAMN IT! I can't be responsible for you anymore!" Charlie screamed, "ANY OF YOU, NOT ANYMORE! It- It's true what everyone says! Mum and Dad did have more children that they could raise or afford. They could love us eternally, but it was still me, eight-years-old, changing ninety percent of Ginny's diapers and- and chasing the twins around and later keeping Slytherins off of you at school, and even later sending half of my bloody paycheck back home to take care of the younger ones- did they ever ask you for money, Bill? Not after the accident, they didn't! I can't be responsible for Fred anymore! Fred needs to make his own decisions. Maybe he'll actually learn something! Maybe he'll learn that he doesn't need George to remind him to bloody eat and sleep and take a shower!"
During this emotional outburst, Remus slid back a little from the table, looking rather uncomfortable. Sean felt the same. He wished they'd waited a little longer to come here, as to escape these deeply personal family matters.
"Are you quite finished?" Bill asked.
Charlie said nothing. He looked infuriated, which to Sean was quite scary, but Bill did not look intimidated.
"It wasn't an accident, Charlie," he said quietly, looking pale.
Charlie got up and went to the icebox.
"What are you doing?"
No reply.
"Charles, what are you doing?"
He continued to dig around in the fridge.
"Charles-"
"I'm getting a drink!"
"No you're not."
"Who do you think you are? Did I ask you to come here?"
"Shut the fridge. That is no way to deal with anything."
"That's none of your damn business, Bill! If I want a drink that's my-"
"Charles," Bill said firmly, "You shut your goddamn mouth and close that fridge right now. We've got some very serious things to talk about."
Sean examined his nails while Remus turned to one side and busied himself with pulling loose threads from his robes. Charlie stared hard at the icebox, his eyes burning with anger. A cold mist floated out and made his whole body visibly tremble. He looked at Bill, who was staring at him intensely, and slowly shut the door of the fridge.
"What do you mean, it wasn't an accident? Are you saying that the twins-"
"The twins didn't do it at all," Bill said, a strange fear coming over his face, "I'm going to die, Charlie. You won't believe-"
"Come on, Bill, I'll admit you're not looking very well, but nothing a little sun and a few square meals won't help."
"Voldemort came to me, Charlie- I collapsed, and ended up in a Muggle hospital," Bill chuckled a little, "Don't even get me started on that. They put this horrible thing in my arm- this tube that dripped liquid…" he shuddered, " and anyway while I was stuck there, he came to me, and said it was him who cursed that gum, and told me that if I didn't tell him who Harry Potter's Secret Keeper was, that I would die."
"Are you fucking serious?"
"I am."
"You could have been hallucinating from something the Muggles gave you."
"I wasn't hallucinating."
"But if these werewolves say-"
"They have names, Charles. Don't be rude- christ, you're always so-"
"Remus," Charlie stressed irritably, "says that he thinks that Percy has become a Death Eater… how could he? And if it's true, why doesn't Percy tell him who the Secret Keeper is?"
"Because Percy doesn't know who it is any more than we do, you dolt."
"Why would he do that? Why would Percy become a Death Eater?"
"He promised me that if I told him who it was, I would never be… ill again."
"Percy?"
"No, idiot, Voldemort!"
"And what does that have to do with anything?"
"Well… if you said that George… maybe Voldemort told Percy he could bring George back, if Percy would join him."
"Precisely," Remus interjected gently, "That is exactly what I would conclude. That is what Voldemort does. He seeks out those who already have a weak spot, or something they are desperate for- and offers them what they've always dreamed, whether it can actually be fulfilled, or can only be a half-kept promise, or is just an outright lie. Because once you've got the Mark, you belong to him. Whatever happened to George's wand?"
Bill and Charlie said they didn't know.
"It's an ancient spell… and rather simple, for one as powerful as Voldemort, of using the deceased's wand and harvesting Percy's desperation to have George alive again, to create a copy of him. Wizards haven't used it for thousands of years, because the person is never the same. It's often too painful."
Charlie considered this for a moment, then said to his brother, "Percy's a smart man- surely he wouldn't fall for that?"
"You remember what he was like after George died. I think he would have done anything to fix it."
"Voldemort probably didn't mention to your brother that he was only making a copy," said Remus.
"Oh God." Charlie started chewing his thumbnail, "What are we going to do?"
"I don't know." Bill replied blankly, "I have no idea."
"We'll just go to Percy- we'll convince him… but he's gotta be far gone."
"Even if he isn't, convince him of what?"
"Maybe if we find Fred- maybe Fred will forgive Percy… and…"
"And what? We'll all go back into hiding like a big, happy family again? I'm not going back there, Charlie. I'm through hiding. But whatever we're doing, we've got to do it fast."
"Do what fast, Bill? Kill Voldemort? Do you realize what you're saying? What do you propose we do, study out of a book and then go out and try to defeat something that no one else has even been able to get close to?"
"I am going to die, Charlie. I have until directly after the next full moon," Bill told him again, without a hint of self-pity. "I've got to do something."
Charlie looked unconvinced. "How do you know it's not an empty threat?"
"I know it's not an empty threat."
"Well, have you been ill since-"
"No."
"Well how do you know then?"
"BECAUSE I KNOW! I believe him. If he can die, we're going to have to do it."
"I think I know what you've got to do," said Remus, "It won't sound very appealing, but if you don't want to go back into hiding, at least not right away-"
"Never."
"May I just say that this was going to be tried before, long ago- but he was ratted out and killed before-"
"-spare us the encouraging details, please."
"Fine. Charlie must to find a Secret Keeper, and both of you need to pay your brother a visit. Next month. Last night I read in the Daily Prophet that they're trying to pass a motion to put the Dementors back at Azkaban. Somebody, the 'Mr.Tromedlov,' I told you about most likely, wants them back."
"I read about that." said Bill. "I thought it was a mad idea- bringing back Voldemort's natural allies back to guard the prison. It makes sense now."
"Well, the article was at Sean's," said Remus, "It was a week outdated-"
"Then it was the most recent edition," Charlie interrupted with a roll of his eyes.
"Was it?" said Remus curiously, "I wouldn't know. I stopped subscribing quite sometime ago. The article says that by magical law, since what is proposed is so serious, the signature of the Minister of Magic is not good enough on its own. He's got until a certain time to get enough signatures, including Percy's. The day after the next full moon, I'm afraid. Four hundred more were needed, at the time the article was written."
"Ha. Impossible," Charlie snorted.
"Not," said Remus very seriously, "I think that's the payment he asked for the werewolves, in return for the cure. I think he asked them to sign, to put the Dementors back in Azkaban-"
"Are all werewolves that gullible?" Charlie blurted. Bill smacked him on the shoulder.
Remus gazed at him with a calm, shaming look, a look that would have made Sean want to hang his head and stare at his shoes, pointed inward, like a child.
"Mr. Weasley," he said quietly, his face expressionless, "It is not a matter of gullibility. It is no less than a dream come true. Being a werewolf can be quite miserable. There is not a lot to do the day after a transformation but wish for a cure, and feel your bones screaming in pain."
Tell him, Remus! Sean thought.
"I- I'm very-"
"Please excuse my brother-"
"It's alright. I know it's hard to understand." Remus waved the issue away. Sean hated how endlessly even-tempered the man was. "As I was saying, I think we aren't really cured. I think he wanted all of us to go home thinking we were cured, so that we would infect our families. More people he could promise a cure to. More people to sign."
"Why would they trust him? I mean, after he already lied?" Bill said carefully.
"I think he'll just say there was a mistake. He'll say it was an experiment, and that they discovered it only works if you take it the night before the full moon, and only for that full moon. Then what does he have? At least four hundred more Death Eaters, bribed monthly with a cure. All part of his plan."
Sean wondered why Remus had never brought this up to him. It was a scary thing for him to think about. He had already grown quite comfortable with the idea of never going through another transformation.
"The morning after the full moon," Remus continued, "Is Wendy's first birthday. It's perfect-"
"Who is Wendy?" asked Bill.
Charlie suddenly looked very guilty. Remus looked uncomfortably back and forth at each of them. He worked his mouth, not knowing what to say. Sean wouldn't have known what to say either. How could Bill not know? She was nearly a year old…
"Charlie who is Wendy?" Bill demanded again.
"Bill," Charlie began, clearing his throat, "It's like this… Percy and Penny have a baby."
Bill's jaw dropped, and his eyes grew as big as salad plates. He looked torn between happiness and insult. "You're joking."
Charlie shook his head no.
"And he didn't tell Mum and Dad? And how is it that a Mr. Remus Lupin knows and his own family doesn't?"
"We don't need to talk about this right now," replied Charlie, fidgeting.
"How does he know when Percy's own family doesn't, Charles?" Bill repeated.
Charlie shot Remus an apologetic look. Remus leaned back from the table, as if to say he was, once again, out of the conversation.
"He's the Minister of Magic. Everyone knows. I guess he managed somehow to keep it from all of you," Charlie said, "This is what he said to me when he poked his head through the fireplace a year ago, after she was born, Bill. He said, 'she's so beautiful, Charlie. I really don't deserve to have a child so beautiful. Mum and Dad would never forgive me.'"
"Mum and Dad would never forgive me?" Bill reiterated, as if the statement were totally absurd. "What in Merlin's Beard did he mean by that?"
"I told him he was wrong, that of course Mum and Dad would want to hear about their first grandchild, but he made me promise not to say anything. He swore he would tell them eventually."
"Wendy," Bill whispered, showing a hint of happiness for the first time. "Blimey, Chucky, we're uncles.! Wow. Percy a dad… did he ever send you pictures or anything?"
Charlie shook his head. "I never heard from him again."
"So you must visit Percy on her birthday," Remus interrupted, "Early, before Penny or any of her family arrive. Because Percy won't be at the Ministry office with other Death Eaters, he'll be at home, making your chances of survival greater. Voldemort will hopefully visit him there, to get the final signature he'll need. I'm sure he'll feel safe at Percy's, so he'll come alone. He won't be able to see Charlie if his Secret is Kept. Your only hope is for Charlie to kill Voldemort while he is distracted with Bill."
"How in Merlin's Beard am I going to kill him? What about Percy?"
"I will teach you Avada Kedavra."
"You know the Death Curse?" said Charlie suspiciously.
Remus smiled. "Yes, Charlie. Even werewolves-"
"That's- that's not what I meant-"
"It's alright," Remus assured him.
"But you probably haven't used it for years and years," Bill pointed out, "Are you sure you can still do it? And what about your wand?"
"Somehow I'll have to get a new one," replied Remus, "and the Death Curse is like riding a broomstick- though a great deal more unpleasant- you never forget how."
"So that's our plan," said Charlie brokenly, "We're going to find me a Secret Keeper, somehow, and we're going to go to Percy's and wait for Voldemort, and I'm going to attempt to kill him, somehow, before he kills Bill, and hope Percy doesn't kill both of us?"
"You are not helping," Bill snapped.
"Well, blimey, Bill, this is fucking scary!"
Bill's eyes suddenly went out of focus. He swayed, standing unsteadily.
"What's wrong?" Charlie asked as his brother leaned on the table, one hand on his forehead. "Are you starting to feel-
"No, it's not that," Bill said weakly, "I just don't feel well. I'm just tired."
"Sit down," said Charlie with worry in his voice.
"I'm fine," Bill insisted, pushing Charlie away and stumbling the short distance out of the kitchen and to the sofa in the front room. "I'm just tired. This has all been a bit much."
Sean stood quickly as Bill collapsed on the sofa. He gave Remus a lost look. Remus barely said his name before Sean guessed that he was going to be sent out of the room. He was right. He was asked to go into the bedroom and look at Charlie's Quidditch books. Instead he lingered by the door and looked through the keyhole. He could see Charlie bent over his brother on the sofa, but nothing more.
"It's just as well," Remus said quietly after Charlie tried a few times to wake Bill, who had fallen asleep almost immediately. He lowered his voice, eyeing the door to Charlie's bedroom. He asked to borrow Charlie's wand, and cast a spell of silence over the room, so that Sean did not hear the last of their conversation: "Just to be safe, I didn't want to say this in front of either of them. I'm going to make Sean your Secret Keeper."
Charlie's expression was dark. "What, that boy you've brought? Who is he?"
"It doesn't matter. I'm sure he'll be a werewolf the night before you go to your brother, and quite incapable of telling anyone your secret. The next day will be very difficult for him. It will be his first time without Wolfsbane. He'll be very ill. If he's conscious at all, or if we don't transform, I'll give him a sleeping draught. He won't be physically capable."
"Why the boy?" said Charlie, unconvinced, "Why not you?"
"Because you'll be my Secret Keeper. That will protect you against me, and if Voldemort approaches Sean, he won't see me, and I'll kill the bastard myself."
"You're not planning on transforming here, are you?"
"Of course not."
"And you're actually capable of preposterously complicated magic like this?"
Remus smiled crookedly. "Charlie… yes. Yes I am." He wanted to say much more, but held his tongue.
"What about Percy? We don't know if he's actually gone bad or if Voldemort has him under some weird spell or both. He'll be able to see me. He'll be able to see and kill me."
Remus sighed. "You might have to kill him as well."
"I couldn't do that! He's my brother!"
"I don't know what else to tell you. I don't know what else can be done. Even killing Voldemort would probably only be temporary. But perhaps, like last time, it will take a few years for him to return… maybe we can all have a few more years of happiness."
Charlie's face hardened with determination. "We'll have to give it a shot."
Thank God I've finally finished this chapter. Sorry it was so damn long. I'm also sorry I lied and said this would be out "tomorrow." I thought I could do it, but I just had so much to explain in the chapter, and I wasn't happy with it, and still wasn't happy with it, and I edited and revised it about three million times and then I completely rewrote it, and now I am sure that if I read this same material one more time I will vomit all over my keyboard! But I'm sure that future chapters will come much easier. So, I hope it turned out alright, and if so PLEASE TELL ME!!! If not, don't tell me. Lie. I worked way too hard for anyone to tell me it sucked. Thank you. Now, off to revise chapter four of CSD…
I would like to take a moment to thank my trusty laptop, Harriet. Without you, baby, none of this would be possible. I love you!