A/N Thanks to all who reviewed.
Starzlight- thank you for your long reviews. Those are wonderful to get, means that people are thinking about what they read. The only clue I can give you is watch the children. Keep up with the involved reviews though
Masao- thanks for reading. I've been considering changing it again, but didn't want to until I was sure where it was going. I started off thinking one thing and then it changed, so perhaps when everyone has decided where they are going I will change it. Keep reading.
Alyssa-Farrell- thank you for reading and being so kind. Keep reviewing.
Lolua- the funny thing about Draco is that he still isn't really a decent person. He's polite and he loves his son, but the teachings from before a ingrained in him. As for his mother, she's evil. I hated her the moment I read her in the book. But you'll have to wait and see just how evil she really is. The children are the greatest. I love them all. Keep reviewing.
Thanks again guys.
(Harry)
"What, the bloody hell, were you thinking?" Ron cried in what was meant to be a hushed whisper.
"Ron, he knows things, he's heard…" Hermione tried to explain.
"Of course he knows things, he's a Malfoy."
I leaned against the wall watching this display, while Draco Malfoy sat uncomfortably in the dining room. Not the he was alone, Arthur, Fred, and George sat close by with their wands held firm, just waiting for a false move.
"He's not like that." Hermione growled inches from her husband's face.
There were a few choice words I wanted to say as well, but refrained until Ron was finished. After what had happened earlier in the day I was in no mood to find my childhood enemy sitting so calmly in the middle of my headquarters. Yet, thanks to Hermione, that is exactly what happened.
"You don't know that! He could be filling your head with nonsense and you wouldn't know the difference." Ron said dangerously.
"You told me to do what I had to, and this is what I had to do."
"You had to bring him here and show him all of our secrets, thus defeating the purpose of the Order?"
I expected Hermione to cry. She tended to cry whenever she was angry, especially when she was angry with Ron, however she just looked at him with a clenched jaw.
"Yes."
"Well then, we had best hope his information is worth it." I said pushing away from the wall.
"Don't you start on me too, Potter." She spat my name at me.
"If anyone should start on you, if should be me."
"Why is that?" Her posture had changed and she was standing as tall as possible, still only bringing her up to my shoulder.
"Should he be lying to us, and should he tell someone what we are doing here, I'm the one who has to take the fall. I'll be the one responsible for your actions."
"Stop being so self important and let someone else make a decision."
It was taking more effort to keep from shouting than I thought it was worth, but I kept my voice down for Ron's sake. He was my best friend, but Hermione was his wife.
"Your 'decision' could cost us all our lives." I expected that to shut her up.
Instead she stomped hard on my already injured foot and stalked back into the dining room. Through the stars flashing before my eyes I managed to find the wall to lean against once more, Ron was speaking, but I couldn't hear him. A string of curse words left my mouth.
"Are you okay? She doesn't weigh that much." Ron said taking hold of my shoulder.
"I hurt it earlier. How did she know?" The stars started to fade.
"Hermione is like that, she can sense weakness I think. We had better get in there before she takes out my father and brothers too." He said and I limped along after him.
I glared at Draco. He simply sat there, looking smug. I knew he had heard our exchange in the hall and that he was probably highly amused by my anxiety over the situation. It was not difficult to see the change in him though, his features were lined and made him seem older, his hair was shorter, and his posture seemed forced, lacking the usual Malfoy ease.
"Hermione seems to think that you have something of value to tell us." I stated, trying hard to stand up straight, but failing as my toes were throbbing.
"I may." He said.
"I trust Hermione, and she trusts you, however if it turns out that you are lying I will personally obliviate your memory, I've never been very good with memory charms."
He smirked and eyed the rest of the group with distaste.
"I thought as much." He said very quietly.
"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I told Hermione that you wouldn't want my help."
"You were right."
Very calmly he stood and looked me in the eye, his cold grey gaze attempted to freeze the marrow from my bones, sadness and anger lingered there. In that moment I knew he had seen death, he had seen blood, he had seen the horrors that man was capable of. On some strange level, we were equals. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to his left arm, half expecting to see the Dark Mark staining his skin.
"I am not a Death Eater." He growled through clenched teeth.
With little ceremony he jerked his sleeve up to expose pale flesh.
"Shall I strip and prove it beyond doubt?" He asked in the same chilling tone.
"No. I believe you."
"What are we going to do with him until the meeting? Not everyone is here yet?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.
"We'll just have to watch him, I don't think he can do anything so long as we keep him in here." I muttered back pulling Ron away from the others and to the side.
"Keep a guard on him?"
"Yeah. What's Neville doing? He can watch him." I said hoping to distract my friend from his misery.
The ruin of his shop had cut him to the bone. I half expected him to revert to the time before, when Luna died. He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, simply lay and stared. I saw the same emptiness there now, hollow eyes. He had a tendency to wander lately, just amble about, not looking where he was going. Perhaps an assignment would bring him back to us for a moment.
"What about the kid?" Ron asked with a gesture to the upstairs.
"Leave him. Nothing to do about it." I shrugged.
A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up to find Hermione beside me.
"Thanks."
"I…" I began.
"I still think you both are assholes, but, thanks." She turned before either of us could stop her and walked off.
"She'll get over it." Ron sighed.
I glanced back at the blonde man sitting at the table, his posture impeccably straight, hands folded neatly in front of him, every hair in place. His very presence made me uneasy. I still remembered his father's face when I caught up to him, when I bound him and when I locked the door to his cell in Azkaban. Perhaps the son still held a grudge.
"You feeling alright Harry?"
I looked back at my best friend and smiled a little, "Yeah."
"Where's Ginny, haven't seen her yet?"
"I don't know, probably around." I responded trying to sound as if nothing were wrong.
He frowned at me and patted my shoulder. For some reason this warm gesture made me irate, I nodded stiffly to him and stalked up to my room. I needed a smoke.
Ginny stood on the stairs before me. She didn't see me at first, her eyes were set on something in her hands. Quietly I watched as she slowly twisted her wedding ring on her finger, the ruby shone in the light, casting tiny red flecks into her eyes. Her fingers were shaking, and I saw tears stains on her cheeks.
Suddenly a board creaked and betrayed my presence. Shocked, she turned and fled back up the stairs before I could say a word. With a loud groan I continued my way up, feeling the weight of the day's problems on my chest. At this point I couldn't tell which was worse, the prophesy or my wife. Either way nothing was working out how I thought it should.
A long drag on a cigarette helped to calm my nerves. If Ginny didn't take me back at least I could smoke whenever I pleased. Even that brought me little contentment. I lay for a long time simply staring, remembering how it had been.
She was young, only sixteen and I was had just turned eighteen. I was enamored with her. How she walked and her long red hair swayed behind her, how she spoke and her lips moved with each word. I memorized her. Her family thought it was sweet how we loved each other, kissed in public and teased each other. Even Ron made a few comments. None of them knew how serious it was.
The night seemed lonely, I slept badly in my room at The Burrow. Tossing and turning, dreaming of her. Finally I threw the covers off and stood up. The night air was cool, though it was August and I dragged my sweatpants on. Very slowly I opened the door and wandered my way down to the kitchen for a snack.
After a bit of searching I dug out a box of breakfast cereal, taking a seat at the table I began to eat handfuls of it. Through the window I could see stars shining brightly and absently began to count them. One, two, three…
I had reached forty when I heard footsteps on the stairs, turning I found Ginny staring back at me. She seemed as surprised as I was.
"Hey." I said and motioned for her to join me.
"What are you doing up?" She asked sitting next to me.
"Eating." I offered her the box, but she declined.
"I thought you were Hermione."
"Why would I be Hermione?"
"She left the room a bit ago and didn't come back, she's been awful funny lately, mooning about."
I looked back out the window and started counting again. Forty-one, forty-two…
"What are you looking at?" She questioned leaning forward.
I turned and found our faces inches apart. I had kissed her before. Many times. But somehow this felt different, I could see every single star in her eyes. Fifty, fifty-one…
"I know where Hermione is." She said very quietly as we broke apart.
"Where?" My lips brushed hers again.
"She's with my brother."
This gave me pause.
"She's with Ron?"
"Yeah."
Silence followed and I glanced out the window, finding that the stars outside weren't nearly as bright as the ones reflected in her stream of silver-red hair.
"I'll walk you back to your room?" I asked reaching for her hand.
She nodded and we climbed the stairs together, hand in hand. Her skin was so soft, and I rubbed my thumb along the back of it. Before I was ready to let go, we were at her door.
"You can come in if you like." She suggested.
I ran a nervous hand through my hair.
"Are you sure?" The question held so much meaning.
She nodded and I entered her room, shutting the door carefully behind me. In seconds she was kissing me, her mouth tasting like chocolate. I pulled her close, burying my hands in that silky hair, pressing against her more roughly than I meant to.
We didn't stop to consider, or take thought in our actions, I simply pushed her back onto the bed. A sharp gasp from her lips made me smile and I nipped at her neck in response. My name was on her lips, urging me on. My fingers found every bit of her, until finally she stopped me.
"Ginny, please." I begged softly in her ear.
"Okay." She agreed breathlessly.
Later as I lay beside her, passion sated, body exhausted, I kissed her eye lids and her cheeks. Whispering as I counted the stars in her eyes, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…
(Lotus)
I have always loved growing things. Ever since I can remember the gentle touch of leaves and the delicate beauty of petals have made me smile. It probably has to do with my father. He would carry me about while tending the plants in the shop, humming to himself and whispering to the plants. Sometimes he would explain his actions, why you had to pluck all the dead leaves from a flutterby bush, or how to calm the fanged geraniums. I listened and soaked it all in.
Father sometimes says that I was raised by the venomous tentacula. When I learned how to walk and he needed to wait on a customer he simply set me down next to the plant. If I tried to crawl off or toddle into something I shouldn't I would find myself suspended by the back of my pants in the air while my sister giggled insanely.
My love for plant life led me to keep my father continually supplied with weeds for the center of the kitchen table and to uproot much of his garden in my quest for the perfect bud. He never complained though, never scolded me, he'd just laugh to himself and find a vase for them. I heard him mutter something about my mother once or twice and found myself smiling.
Despite our being twins, I was the only one who could remember our mother. Of course it was only images. Fuzzy and vague outlines of her. But still, it was something. Ivy claimed to remember her as I did, but I knew better. To me it was a fair trade of sorts, Ivy got to be like our mother and I got to remember her.
My sister was always doing odd things that made people look twice and mutter to themselves about "Luna's children". She wore a butterbeer cap on a chain and was known to go glossy eyed over the strangest things. Often I could hear her hum a eerie little song as she drifted off to sleep, leaving me with dreams of far away places and journeys I would never make. I longed to be like her, to bring tears to Father's eyes the way she did, to be graceful, to have a good memory. Instead, I was known to trip and fall more than I walked and I forgot the most important things right when I needed to remember them.
Which is probably why I forgot about the burn marks on the door to the dining room. I just didn't think about it again until we passed them on our way upstairs with Angelina. Hardly noticeable on the dark wood, I could just make out our handprints, and felt a jolt of fear run through me. Again I wondered if there was something wrong with my sister and I.
For a while I sat in Angelina's lap and listened to her funny stories about being in school, trying to block the memory out of my mind. The problem was solved for me when there was a burst of yelling from downstairs. Angelina told us to be quiet and she went to investigate. She was gone for several minutes, during which we pressed ourselves to the door and listened. Quickly we scattered when we heard footsteps on the stairs, trying hard to look innocent.
Angelina was preoccupied with a strange blonde boy beside her. He was smirking up at her and she was looking speculatively back. Whatever he had said, she was not amused.
"Everyone, this is Bane, he'll be staying with us for awhile." She announced and motioned for the boy to join us.
He stood with his arms crossed over his chest looking very bored. Sensing trouble none of us went near him, except for Lily. She had always been a little different, I felt guilty for thinking it, she was my best friend. Yet, there she was standing near him, looking him over curiously.
He said something sharp and she grinned back at him. His retort wasn't pleasant I was sure, but still she smiled. The smirk was quickly changing into a frown as he continued to insult her, only to find that she burst out laughing. Snarling he said something horrible and stomped off to a corner where I thought he would pout. I considered telling Angelina about this conversation, but didn't. She was busy trying to keep Mia from crawling beneath the beds and pull Mab off one of the shelves.
Lily followed Bane to the corner and began to talk to him quietly. He didn't respond right away. His ice blue eyes becoming slits, mouth a straight line, he watched her speaking. Finally he spoke and she seemed content with his answer. They spent the rest of the time sitting next to each other in silence.
"Lotus?" My sister said placing a hand on my arm, distracting me from my observations.
I turned and blinked at her.
"The marks were still on the door." She whispered.
"Yeah."
"We didn't imagine it."
"I guess not. What do think it is?"
"I don't know. Maybe just wandless magic." I said hopefully.
My sister shrugged and looked away, thinking.
"What if it isn't? What if we're special or something?" Ivy was always thinking like that.
"Like what kind of special?"
"I don't know."
I shook my head and Ivy wandered the other direction.
(Lily)
The boy was different than anyone I had ever seen before. His white-blonde hair was cut very short and spiked up a little, his clothing was impeccably clean, and his eyes shone hatefully out at everything. He puzzled me. Most kids have an understanding, they know each other before they ever meet and know how to act with each other. He had no awareness of how to act. It was as if he thought himself above everything.
I stood from my seat and slowly wandered over to where he still stood smirking cruelly. As I drew closer I saw how straight his posture was and wondered who had taught him that. Where had he learned these strange habits?
He noticed me suddenly.
"What do you want mudblood?" He spat.
I smiled as his unprovoked anger.
"What are you smiling at?"
I didn't answer, merely grinned.
"I should have known you'd be to stupid to understand English."
Finally I burst into laughter, "You don't even know who I am."
"You're the Potter girl, only his daughter could be as stupid as you." His words should have hurt, but I just continued laughing.
He became so furious that he turned and stomped away. When my giggles had subsided I followed him to the corner where her was pouting.
"You were right, I am his daughter." I said sitting down close by.
He glared at me menacingly.
"You don't have to like me." I whispered meeting his gaze.
"I don't."
"That's fine."
For a long while we sat like that, silent, the tension growing.
"Why don't you go away?" He growled.
"Why should I? I have just as much right to be here, in fact I probably have more." I stated easily.
"I don't want you here."
I stared at him, not showing my amusement, "I don't care."
He growled and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms about them.
"I didn't want to come here in the first place." He mumbled into his robes.
I cocked my head to the side, trying very hard to read his actions. Nothing he did made sense.
"Why did you come then?" I asked curious.
"My father made me."
"My father made me come too." I murmured looking away for the first time.
From the corner of my eye I saw his head lift a little and he eyed me uncertainly. I held very still, letting him get a good long look. It was almost like dealing with Aunt Hermione's cat. You didn't move at all and waited for him to get accustomed to you. I saw his unease ebb away slowly.
"Why … why did he make you come here?"
I shrugged, "It's not safe anywhere else."
"What's your name?"
"Lily."
"You can keep sitting there Lily, I don't mind."
And until dinner we said nothing at all.
(Draco)
He was very quiet at first, sitting there with his wand held loosely in his hand. Casually he twirled it between his fingers and inspected it's polished surface. I made him tense, but he wasn't going to let it show. I considered the man he had become and wondered at the child he had once been. My mind recalled every insult I had ever thrown at him, every time I had been cruel to him and I found I was a little sorry for it. Part of me wished I could be as guileless as he.
"I heard…" He started.
I shifted my weight and he looked away.
"What?" I asked softly.
Neville seemed surprised that he had said anything at all. His hands played with the wand some more and he glanced across the table at me.
"I heard that your wife died." He finished.
My jaw tightened and I shoved the painful memory from my mind.
"Yes. A long time ago." I replied.
"I'm sorry."
Part of me wanted to insult him into silence and make him take it back. The rest was stunned. Not in all the years since she had been killed had anyone, save Hermione, ever been sorry. In fact it seemed as if the world breathed a sigh of relief that I was along and friendless.
"Thank you."
His fingers tightened on his wand and he leaned forward cautiously.
"I just wanted to tell you that."
"Why?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
For a long moment he paused as if contemplating his choice of words. I watched him choose each phrase with care and lay them out just right.
"I understand what it's like. I…I lost my wife too." He whispered.
The thought of Neville Longbottom being married was foreign.
"What was her name?"
"You remember Luna Lovegood."
He had married Loony Lovegood. Oddly enough the pairing seemed right. He had just the right temperament to put up with her strangeness and she was sweet enough to ignore his shortcomings.
I nodded, "How did she die?"
A pained look crossed his face and he squeezed his wand harder still until his knuckles were white.
"Death Eaters."
I sat up straight and prepared for a fight. Far to many people had insinuated my affiliation with Voldemort. I was not going to put up another accusation.
"They attacked the hospital and she died in the battle." He continued not even realizing how dangerously close he was to kindling my anger.
"Neville…" I began.
"How did Pansy …" The last word caught in his throat.
"She was killed while protecting our son." The resentment of moments before was gone at his earnest tone.
He sighed a little and looked up from his hands, "I just wanted to tell you I was sorry."
"Thank you." I repeated and looked away, unable to see his honest face anymore.
(Ron)
It was late when the three older members of the Order arrived. There were others that Harry could have called, but felt that until we knew exactly what was going on there was no need to frighten them. I felt differently. We needed as many people as possible, one of them might know something useful, or have even figured the prophesy out already. But I followed Harry's lead.
Dumbledore arrived first, looking older than I ever remembered him looking. His steps were slow and his lively face seemed tired, but his blue eyes still twinkled merrily.
"Good evening." Hermione said as she opened the door for him.
"Good evening Mrs. Weasley."
Remus stood a bit behind her and motioned for the older man to follow him to the dining room. I could hear them chatting casually as they walked and found that I was drawn into the room as well. My brothers were whispering at one end of the table, but stopped then they saw who had come in.
"Hello, Boys." He called with a wave.
They waved back and grinned.
"Staying out of trouble I suppose?" He joked lightly.
As if it was the moment he had been waiting for his whole life, Fred stood up tall and proud, "Angelina and I are having a baby."
I snickered from the doorway.
"That's wonderful news, how far along is she?"
"Two months. I…we just found out last night." He grinned harder, I was sure his face had to be hurting.
"Wonderful, how is the shop coming along?"
"Oh great, you should stop by. We've got all kinds of great things now." George put in excitedly.
I turned and strolled out of the room. Even in the worst of times nothing could dampen my brothers' spirit, or Dumbledore's for that matter.
The door had opened again and I heard a familiar low voice from the entry hall.
"Hello, Professor Snape." My wife said politely.
"Good evening." He said in response.
His dark eyes lit upon me as I joined them.
"I hope that there is a good explanation why I was called here. I was under the impression that my connections to this Order were cut." He seemed to tower over me despite being a full two inches shorter.
"There have been new developments. Harry felt your expertise was needed." I explained, leading the way to the room where the others were.
"DADDY!" A shrill voice shrieked from the stairs.
Whirling around I shoved past Snape and came to the bottom of the steps in time to find my youngest daughter barreling down at me.
"I tried to stop her, but when the door opened she bolted. I'm so sorry." Angelina panted, hurrying after her.
I scooped the three year old into my arms and tried to calm her.
"Daddy." She said again followed by a long stream of babble that I couldn't understand, I was sure there were words in it somewhere, but she spoke to fast.
"Calm down. Let Angelina take you back upstairs. I'll be up soon to get you." I promised, trying to hand her back to my brother's girlfriend.
"Who's that?" She asked, pointing at Snape.
He looked from me to the child and back again, in what I assumed was amusement.
"I am Professor Snape."
She looked at him unabashed by his coldness.
"I'm Mia." She pronounced and began to struggle to get down.
"Nice to meet you."
I looked at Angelina from the corner of my eye and she shrugged.
"Will you come up and play with me?" She asked once on the ground, her little hand reached for his.
I began to laugh silently, wishing someone had a camera, there was no way his reputation at the school would survive if anyone found out about this.
"No. Not right now. I've business to take care of." Nothing in his voice or manner changed.
"Okay. I'll go back." She agreed and took Angelina's hand instead.
"That was kind of you." I said after my daughter had been carried back up the stairs, waving furiously at her new 'friend'.
"I suppose she is not the only one." He responded.
"No, there are two others. Meshach is seven and Mab is six."
He didn't answer, merely entered the room and sat down. Sighing and shaking my head I turned and went back to join Hermione once again at the door.
"Was that Mia I heard?" She asked.
"Yeah, escaped." I explained vaguely.
"You caught her, right?"
"Of course."
A knock at the door startled us both and Hermione opened it before checking to see who was there.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Moody growled, pushing through.
His age had done little slow him down, though it did provide a few more scars. Not that you could tell. The man's scars were scarred.
"What?" Hermione asked confused.
"Never open the door without checking who is there first." He commanded.
"Come on, everyone else is in the dining room." I said rolling my eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me boy." He growled and I led the way.
He and Dumbledore nodded to each other and Moody took a seat nearby, his wooden leg thumping with every step. People had begun to gather in the room by that time. My father sat with the twins and Ginny was keeping to herself at the end of the table. Remus and Tonks had found two seats next to Dumbledore and were conversing about the current state of affairs.
"Everyone here?" Harry asked from behind me.
I nodded.
"I'll go get Neville." He said and was gone again.
"Come on." Hermione took my arm and we took seats at the table.
There was a time of whispered conversation until Harry came in with Neville and Draco in tow. Moody made a strange harrumphing noise in his throat and Snape's eyes widened in surprise. Only Dumbledore appeared untroubled at the appearance of a Malfoy in our midst.
Harry let the other two sit and took his place at the head of the table. Quickly he gave an overview of the most recent events. Moody grumbled considerably at the mention of the break-ins. I noticed Draco shifting uncomfortably when the writing on the wall was described. As he finished, Harry motioned for Draco to stand and join him.
"Now, whatever information you have." Harry said and sat down.
"Well…I recently…" He stumbled over his words nervously, for the first time since he arrived he seemed uncomfortable.
"Just tell them what you told me." Hermione called.
"My son spends a great deal of time with my mother. More than I would like. I've found through him that she remains …connected to the world of dark magic. It would do no good to accuse her or send her to prison, she's beyond action, she simply knows things. Things that she has little problem telling my son."
"What has this to do with anything?" Snape muttered.
"Recently," Draco began with a bit of force behind the word, "My son informed me that his grandmother was planning for a change. A…different arrangement in the world. That soon all of Voldemort's rivals would be dealt with."
"But Voldemort was killed." Neville spoke up a nervous pitch to his voice.
"That was my thought, however Bane, my son, simply smiled at me. He told me that Potter's line would end. That…the war wasn't as over as we thought."
Harry frowned deeply and motioned for Draco to sit, which he did gratefully.
"That last statement about Harry's line would lead me to believe that the children are in danger." Remus said.
"But Voldemort was killed." Neville said again.
"So it would seem, but things are rarely as they seem." Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"I was there. I know he died." Harry said compellingly.
"You were there the first time as well." Snape reminded him.
"We killed him. He died." I spoke up, remembering that bitterly cold night.
"Perhaps a six year old is not a source to be trusted." Ginny whispered.
"My son doesn't lie to me." Draco answered her.
The argument continued for hours. The only thing that anyone could agree with was that the children were in trouble and that the prophesy might be referring to them.
"Have any of the children displayed skills that might lend them to be the one's described in the prophesy?" Dumbledore asked.
"Meshach was born at the end of July." Hermione said.
"Has anyone bothered to question the child?" Moody growled.
"I didn't really want to involve the children." Harry explained.
"If you haven't noticed, they are already involved." Said Snape.
Hermione placed a hand on my arm and I saw her jaw tighten angrily.
"I will not have my son questioned in front of you all as if he did something wrong." She declared loudly.
"Then what would you suggest?" Snape argued.
"Certainly not that." My father said standing up.
A huge fight erupted between the two older men and my wife. Finally when Snape began insulting Hermione I stood up and cried loudly, "No one is touching my child. And if you do not stop calling my wife names, there will be a problem."
"Gentlemen, lets all calm down shall we," Dumbledore interrupted, "I believe that we could all use a bit of dinner and good night's rest. It's getting very late"
There was a mumble of agreement and chairs began to scrape away from the table. Hermione glared once at Snape and stalked off to kitchen after Tonks.
"You are all more than welcome to stay for dinner. I imagine we'll be meeting tomorrow night as well." Remus stated.
Snape was out the door before anyone noticed he was gone. Draco seemed very uncomfortable at the idea of staying, but no one had dismissed him yet. The others simply milled around, stretching their legs and discussing in hushed voices the events of moments before. I rested my head in my hands and sighed.
For so many years we had thought it was over. We had rejoiced and lived our lives, only to find that every effort was pointless. No matter how hard we tried to protect those we loved, they were still in danger. Perhaps Remus was right and there was no world that was safe. Maybe we were doomed to live the rest of our lives fighting. With great effort I denied the urge to grab my wife and children and run. They needed us. Harry needed us.
Starzlight- thank you for your long reviews. Those are wonderful to get, means that people are thinking about what they read. The only clue I can give you is watch the children. Keep up with the involved reviews though
Masao- thanks for reading. I've been considering changing it again, but didn't want to until I was sure where it was going. I started off thinking one thing and then it changed, so perhaps when everyone has decided where they are going I will change it. Keep reading.
Alyssa-Farrell- thank you for reading and being so kind. Keep reviewing.
Lolua- the funny thing about Draco is that he still isn't really a decent person. He's polite and he loves his son, but the teachings from before a ingrained in him. As for his mother, she's evil. I hated her the moment I read her in the book. But you'll have to wait and see just how evil she really is. The children are the greatest. I love them all. Keep reviewing.
Thanks again guys.
(Harry)
"What, the bloody hell, were you thinking?" Ron cried in what was meant to be a hushed whisper.
"Ron, he knows things, he's heard…" Hermione tried to explain.
"Of course he knows things, he's a Malfoy."
I leaned against the wall watching this display, while Draco Malfoy sat uncomfortably in the dining room. Not the he was alone, Arthur, Fred, and George sat close by with their wands held firm, just waiting for a false move.
"He's not like that." Hermione growled inches from her husband's face.
There were a few choice words I wanted to say as well, but refrained until Ron was finished. After what had happened earlier in the day I was in no mood to find my childhood enemy sitting so calmly in the middle of my headquarters. Yet, thanks to Hermione, that is exactly what happened.
"You don't know that! He could be filling your head with nonsense and you wouldn't know the difference." Ron said dangerously.
"You told me to do what I had to, and this is what I had to do."
"You had to bring him here and show him all of our secrets, thus defeating the purpose of the Order?"
I expected Hermione to cry. She tended to cry whenever she was angry, especially when she was angry with Ron, however she just looked at him with a clenched jaw.
"Yes."
"Well then, we had best hope his information is worth it." I said pushing away from the wall.
"Don't you start on me too, Potter." She spat my name at me.
"If anyone should start on you, if should be me."
"Why is that?" Her posture had changed and she was standing as tall as possible, still only bringing her up to my shoulder.
"Should he be lying to us, and should he tell someone what we are doing here, I'm the one who has to take the fall. I'll be the one responsible for your actions."
"Stop being so self important and let someone else make a decision."
It was taking more effort to keep from shouting than I thought it was worth, but I kept my voice down for Ron's sake. He was my best friend, but Hermione was his wife.
"Your 'decision' could cost us all our lives." I expected that to shut her up.
Instead she stomped hard on my already injured foot and stalked back into the dining room. Through the stars flashing before my eyes I managed to find the wall to lean against once more, Ron was speaking, but I couldn't hear him. A string of curse words left my mouth.
"Are you okay? She doesn't weigh that much." Ron said taking hold of my shoulder.
"I hurt it earlier. How did she know?" The stars started to fade.
"Hermione is like that, she can sense weakness I think. We had better get in there before she takes out my father and brothers too." He said and I limped along after him.
I glared at Draco. He simply sat there, looking smug. I knew he had heard our exchange in the hall and that he was probably highly amused by my anxiety over the situation. It was not difficult to see the change in him though, his features were lined and made him seem older, his hair was shorter, and his posture seemed forced, lacking the usual Malfoy ease.
"Hermione seems to think that you have something of value to tell us." I stated, trying hard to stand up straight, but failing as my toes were throbbing.
"I may." He said.
"I trust Hermione, and she trusts you, however if it turns out that you are lying I will personally obliviate your memory, I've never been very good with memory charms."
He smirked and eyed the rest of the group with distaste.
"I thought as much." He said very quietly.
"What?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"I told Hermione that you wouldn't want my help."
"You were right."
Very calmly he stood and looked me in the eye, his cold grey gaze attempted to freeze the marrow from my bones, sadness and anger lingered there. In that moment I knew he had seen death, he had seen blood, he had seen the horrors that man was capable of. On some strange level, we were equals. I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to his left arm, half expecting to see the Dark Mark staining his skin.
"I am not a Death Eater." He growled through clenched teeth.
With little ceremony he jerked his sleeve up to expose pale flesh.
"Shall I strip and prove it beyond doubt?" He asked in the same chilling tone.
"No. I believe you."
"What are we going to do with him until the meeting? Not everyone is here yet?" Ron asked in a hushed voice.
"We'll just have to watch him, I don't think he can do anything so long as we keep him in here." I muttered back pulling Ron away from the others and to the side.
"Keep a guard on him?"
"Yeah. What's Neville doing? He can watch him." I said hoping to distract my friend from his misery.
The ruin of his shop had cut him to the bone. I half expected him to revert to the time before, when Luna died. He hadn't eaten, hadn't slept, simply lay and stared. I saw the same emptiness there now, hollow eyes. He had a tendency to wander lately, just amble about, not looking where he was going. Perhaps an assignment would bring him back to us for a moment.
"What about the kid?" Ron asked with a gesture to the upstairs.
"Leave him. Nothing to do about it." I shrugged.
A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up to find Hermione beside me.
"Thanks."
"I…" I began.
"I still think you both are assholes, but, thanks." She turned before either of us could stop her and walked off.
"She'll get over it." Ron sighed.
I glanced back at the blonde man sitting at the table, his posture impeccably straight, hands folded neatly in front of him, every hair in place. His very presence made me uneasy. I still remembered his father's face when I caught up to him, when I bound him and when I locked the door to his cell in Azkaban. Perhaps the son still held a grudge.
"You feeling alright Harry?"
I looked back at my best friend and smiled a little, "Yeah."
"Where's Ginny, haven't seen her yet?"
"I don't know, probably around." I responded trying to sound as if nothing were wrong.
He frowned at me and patted my shoulder. For some reason this warm gesture made me irate, I nodded stiffly to him and stalked up to my room. I needed a smoke.
Ginny stood on the stairs before me. She didn't see me at first, her eyes were set on something in her hands. Quietly I watched as she slowly twisted her wedding ring on her finger, the ruby shone in the light, casting tiny red flecks into her eyes. Her fingers were shaking, and I saw tears stains on her cheeks.
Suddenly a board creaked and betrayed my presence. Shocked, she turned and fled back up the stairs before I could say a word. With a loud groan I continued my way up, feeling the weight of the day's problems on my chest. At this point I couldn't tell which was worse, the prophesy or my wife. Either way nothing was working out how I thought it should.
A long drag on a cigarette helped to calm my nerves. If Ginny didn't take me back at least I could smoke whenever I pleased. Even that brought me little contentment. I lay for a long time simply staring, remembering how it had been.
She was young, only sixteen and I was had just turned eighteen. I was enamored with her. How she walked and her long red hair swayed behind her, how she spoke and her lips moved with each word. I memorized her. Her family thought it was sweet how we loved each other, kissed in public and teased each other. Even Ron made a few comments. None of them knew how serious it was.
The night seemed lonely, I slept badly in my room at The Burrow. Tossing and turning, dreaming of her. Finally I threw the covers off and stood up. The night air was cool, though it was August and I dragged my sweatpants on. Very slowly I opened the door and wandered my way down to the kitchen for a snack.
After a bit of searching I dug out a box of breakfast cereal, taking a seat at the table I began to eat handfuls of it. Through the window I could see stars shining brightly and absently began to count them. One, two, three…
I had reached forty when I heard footsteps on the stairs, turning I found Ginny staring back at me. She seemed as surprised as I was.
"Hey." I said and motioned for her to join me.
"What are you doing up?" She asked sitting next to me.
"Eating." I offered her the box, but she declined.
"I thought you were Hermione."
"Why would I be Hermione?"
"She left the room a bit ago and didn't come back, she's been awful funny lately, mooning about."
I looked back out the window and started counting again. Forty-one, forty-two…
"What are you looking at?" She questioned leaning forward.
I turned and found our faces inches apart. I had kissed her before. Many times. But somehow this felt different, I could see every single star in her eyes. Fifty, fifty-one…
"I know where Hermione is." She said very quietly as we broke apart.
"Where?" My lips brushed hers again.
"She's with my brother."
This gave me pause.
"She's with Ron?"
"Yeah."
Silence followed and I glanced out the window, finding that the stars outside weren't nearly as bright as the ones reflected in her stream of silver-red hair.
"I'll walk you back to your room?" I asked reaching for her hand.
She nodded and we climbed the stairs together, hand in hand. Her skin was so soft, and I rubbed my thumb along the back of it. Before I was ready to let go, we were at her door.
"You can come in if you like." She suggested.
I ran a nervous hand through my hair.
"Are you sure?" The question held so much meaning.
She nodded and I entered her room, shutting the door carefully behind me. In seconds she was kissing me, her mouth tasting like chocolate. I pulled her close, burying my hands in that silky hair, pressing against her more roughly than I meant to.
We didn't stop to consider, or take thought in our actions, I simply pushed her back onto the bed. A sharp gasp from her lips made me smile and I nipped at her neck in response. My name was on her lips, urging me on. My fingers found every bit of her, until finally she stopped me.
"Ginny, please." I begged softly in her ear.
"Okay." She agreed breathlessly.
Later as I lay beside her, passion sated, body exhausted, I kissed her eye lids and her cheeks. Whispering as I counted the stars in her eyes, sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…
(Lotus)
I have always loved growing things. Ever since I can remember the gentle touch of leaves and the delicate beauty of petals have made me smile. It probably has to do with my father. He would carry me about while tending the plants in the shop, humming to himself and whispering to the plants. Sometimes he would explain his actions, why you had to pluck all the dead leaves from a flutterby bush, or how to calm the fanged geraniums. I listened and soaked it all in.
Father sometimes says that I was raised by the venomous tentacula. When I learned how to walk and he needed to wait on a customer he simply set me down next to the plant. If I tried to crawl off or toddle into something I shouldn't I would find myself suspended by the back of my pants in the air while my sister giggled insanely.
My love for plant life led me to keep my father continually supplied with weeds for the center of the kitchen table and to uproot much of his garden in my quest for the perfect bud. He never complained though, never scolded me, he'd just laugh to himself and find a vase for them. I heard him mutter something about my mother once or twice and found myself smiling.
Despite our being twins, I was the only one who could remember our mother. Of course it was only images. Fuzzy and vague outlines of her. But still, it was something. Ivy claimed to remember her as I did, but I knew better. To me it was a fair trade of sorts, Ivy got to be like our mother and I got to remember her.
My sister was always doing odd things that made people look twice and mutter to themselves about "Luna's children". She wore a butterbeer cap on a chain and was known to go glossy eyed over the strangest things. Often I could hear her hum a eerie little song as she drifted off to sleep, leaving me with dreams of far away places and journeys I would never make. I longed to be like her, to bring tears to Father's eyes the way she did, to be graceful, to have a good memory. Instead, I was known to trip and fall more than I walked and I forgot the most important things right when I needed to remember them.
Which is probably why I forgot about the burn marks on the door to the dining room. I just didn't think about it again until we passed them on our way upstairs with Angelina. Hardly noticeable on the dark wood, I could just make out our handprints, and felt a jolt of fear run through me. Again I wondered if there was something wrong with my sister and I.
For a while I sat in Angelina's lap and listened to her funny stories about being in school, trying to block the memory out of my mind. The problem was solved for me when there was a burst of yelling from downstairs. Angelina told us to be quiet and she went to investigate. She was gone for several minutes, during which we pressed ourselves to the door and listened. Quickly we scattered when we heard footsteps on the stairs, trying hard to look innocent.
Angelina was preoccupied with a strange blonde boy beside her. He was smirking up at her and she was looking speculatively back. Whatever he had said, she was not amused.
"Everyone, this is Bane, he'll be staying with us for awhile." She announced and motioned for the boy to join us.
He stood with his arms crossed over his chest looking very bored. Sensing trouble none of us went near him, except for Lily. She had always been a little different, I felt guilty for thinking it, she was my best friend. Yet, there she was standing near him, looking him over curiously.
He said something sharp and she grinned back at him. His retort wasn't pleasant I was sure, but still she smiled. The smirk was quickly changing into a frown as he continued to insult her, only to find that she burst out laughing. Snarling he said something horrible and stomped off to a corner where I thought he would pout. I considered telling Angelina about this conversation, but didn't. She was busy trying to keep Mia from crawling beneath the beds and pull Mab off one of the shelves.
Lily followed Bane to the corner and began to talk to him quietly. He didn't respond right away. His ice blue eyes becoming slits, mouth a straight line, he watched her speaking. Finally he spoke and she seemed content with his answer. They spent the rest of the time sitting next to each other in silence.
"Lotus?" My sister said placing a hand on my arm, distracting me from my observations.
I turned and blinked at her.
"The marks were still on the door." She whispered.
"Yeah."
"We didn't imagine it."
"I guess not. What do think it is?"
"I don't know. Maybe just wandless magic." I said hopefully.
My sister shrugged and looked away, thinking.
"What if it isn't? What if we're special or something?" Ivy was always thinking like that.
"Like what kind of special?"
"I don't know."
I shook my head and Ivy wandered the other direction.
(Lily)
The boy was different than anyone I had ever seen before. His white-blonde hair was cut very short and spiked up a little, his clothing was impeccably clean, and his eyes shone hatefully out at everything. He puzzled me. Most kids have an understanding, they know each other before they ever meet and know how to act with each other. He had no awareness of how to act. It was as if he thought himself above everything.
I stood from my seat and slowly wandered over to where he still stood smirking cruelly. As I drew closer I saw how straight his posture was and wondered who had taught him that. Where had he learned these strange habits?
He noticed me suddenly.
"What do you want mudblood?" He spat.
I smiled as his unprovoked anger.
"What are you smiling at?"
I didn't answer, merely grinned.
"I should have known you'd be to stupid to understand English."
Finally I burst into laughter, "You don't even know who I am."
"You're the Potter girl, only his daughter could be as stupid as you." His words should have hurt, but I just continued laughing.
He became so furious that he turned and stomped away. When my giggles had subsided I followed him to the corner where her was pouting.
"You were right, I am his daughter." I said sitting down close by.
He glared at me menacingly.
"You don't have to like me." I whispered meeting his gaze.
"I don't."
"That's fine."
For a long while we sat like that, silent, the tension growing.
"Why don't you go away?" He growled.
"Why should I? I have just as much right to be here, in fact I probably have more." I stated easily.
"I don't want you here."
I stared at him, not showing my amusement, "I don't care."
He growled and pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms about them.
"I didn't want to come here in the first place." He mumbled into his robes.
I cocked my head to the side, trying very hard to read his actions. Nothing he did made sense.
"Why did you come then?" I asked curious.
"My father made me."
"My father made me come too." I murmured looking away for the first time.
From the corner of my eye I saw his head lift a little and he eyed me uncertainly. I held very still, letting him get a good long look. It was almost like dealing with Aunt Hermione's cat. You didn't move at all and waited for him to get accustomed to you. I saw his unease ebb away slowly.
"Why … why did he make you come here?"
I shrugged, "It's not safe anywhere else."
"What's your name?"
"Lily."
"You can keep sitting there Lily, I don't mind."
And until dinner we said nothing at all.
(Draco)
He was very quiet at first, sitting there with his wand held loosely in his hand. Casually he twirled it between his fingers and inspected it's polished surface. I made him tense, but he wasn't going to let it show. I considered the man he had become and wondered at the child he had once been. My mind recalled every insult I had ever thrown at him, every time I had been cruel to him and I found I was a little sorry for it. Part of me wished I could be as guileless as he.
"I heard…" He started.
I shifted my weight and he looked away.
"What?" I asked softly.
Neville seemed surprised that he had said anything at all. His hands played with the wand some more and he glanced across the table at me.
"I heard that your wife died." He finished.
My jaw tightened and I shoved the painful memory from my mind.
"Yes. A long time ago." I replied.
"I'm sorry."
Part of me wanted to insult him into silence and make him take it back. The rest was stunned. Not in all the years since she had been killed had anyone, save Hermione, ever been sorry. In fact it seemed as if the world breathed a sigh of relief that I was along and friendless.
"Thank you."
His fingers tightened on his wand and he leaned forward cautiously.
"I just wanted to tell you that."
"Why?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
For a long moment he paused as if contemplating his choice of words. I watched him choose each phrase with care and lay them out just right.
"I understand what it's like. I…I lost my wife too." He whispered.
The thought of Neville Longbottom being married was foreign.
"What was her name?"
"You remember Luna Lovegood."
He had married Loony Lovegood. Oddly enough the pairing seemed right. He had just the right temperament to put up with her strangeness and she was sweet enough to ignore his shortcomings.
I nodded, "How did she die?"
A pained look crossed his face and he squeezed his wand harder still until his knuckles were white.
"Death Eaters."
I sat up straight and prepared for a fight. Far to many people had insinuated my affiliation with Voldemort. I was not going to put up another accusation.
"They attacked the hospital and she died in the battle." He continued not even realizing how dangerously close he was to kindling my anger.
"Neville…" I began.
"How did Pansy …" The last word caught in his throat.
"She was killed while protecting our son." The resentment of moments before was gone at his earnest tone.
He sighed a little and looked up from his hands, "I just wanted to tell you I was sorry."
"Thank you." I repeated and looked away, unable to see his honest face anymore.
(Ron)
It was late when the three older members of the Order arrived. There were others that Harry could have called, but felt that until we knew exactly what was going on there was no need to frighten them. I felt differently. We needed as many people as possible, one of them might know something useful, or have even figured the prophesy out already. But I followed Harry's lead.
Dumbledore arrived first, looking older than I ever remembered him looking. His steps were slow and his lively face seemed tired, but his blue eyes still twinkled merrily.
"Good evening." Hermione said as she opened the door for him.
"Good evening Mrs. Weasley."
Remus stood a bit behind her and motioned for the older man to follow him to the dining room. I could hear them chatting casually as they walked and found that I was drawn into the room as well. My brothers were whispering at one end of the table, but stopped then they saw who had come in.
"Hello, Boys." He called with a wave.
They waved back and grinned.
"Staying out of trouble I suppose?" He joked lightly.
As if it was the moment he had been waiting for his whole life, Fred stood up tall and proud, "Angelina and I are having a baby."
I snickered from the doorway.
"That's wonderful news, how far along is she?"
"Two months. I…we just found out last night." He grinned harder, I was sure his face had to be hurting.
"Wonderful, how is the shop coming along?"
"Oh great, you should stop by. We've got all kinds of great things now." George put in excitedly.
I turned and strolled out of the room. Even in the worst of times nothing could dampen my brothers' spirit, or Dumbledore's for that matter.
The door had opened again and I heard a familiar low voice from the entry hall.
"Hello, Professor Snape." My wife said politely.
"Good evening." He said in response.
His dark eyes lit upon me as I joined them.
"I hope that there is a good explanation why I was called here. I was under the impression that my connections to this Order were cut." He seemed to tower over me despite being a full two inches shorter.
"There have been new developments. Harry felt your expertise was needed." I explained, leading the way to the room where the others were.
"DADDY!" A shrill voice shrieked from the stairs.
Whirling around I shoved past Snape and came to the bottom of the steps in time to find my youngest daughter barreling down at me.
"I tried to stop her, but when the door opened she bolted. I'm so sorry." Angelina panted, hurrying after her.
I scooped the three year old into my arms and tried to calm her.
"Daddy." She said again followed by a long stream of babble that I couldn't understand, I was sure there were words in it somewhere, but she spoke to fast.
"Calm down. Let Angelina take you back upstairs. I'll be up soon to get you." I promised, trying to hand her back to my brother's girlfriend.
"Who's that?" She asked, pointing at Snape.
He looked from me to the child and back again, in what I assumed was amusement.
"I am Professor Snape."
She looked at him unabashed by his coldness.
"I'm Mia." She pronounced and began to struggle to get down.
"Nice to meet you."
I looked at Angelina from the corner of my eye and she shrugged.
"Will you come up and play with me?" She asked once on the ground, her little hand reached for his.
I began to laugh silently, wishing someone had a camera, there was no way his reputation at the school would survive if anyone found out about this.
"No. Not right now. I've business to take care of." Nothing in his voice or manner changed.
"Okay. I'll go back." She agreed and took Angelina's hand instead.
"That was kind of you." I said after my daughter had been carried back up the stairs, waving furiously at her new 'friend'.
"I suppose she is not the only one." He responded.
"No, there are two others. Meshach is seven and Mab is six."
He didn't answer, merely entered the room and sat down. Sighing and shaking my head I turned and went back to join Hermione once again at the door.
"Was that Mia I heard?" She asked.
"Yeah, escaped." I explained vaguely.
"You caught her, right?"
"Of course."
A knock at the door startled us both and Hermione opened it before checking to see who was there.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Moody growled, pushing through.
His age had done little slow him down, though it did provide a few more scars. Not that you could tell. The man's scars were scarred.
"What?" Hermione asked confused.
"Never open the door without checking who is there first." He commanded.
"Come on, everyone else is in the dining room." I said rolling my eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me boy." He growled and I led the way.
He and Dumbledore nodded to each other and Moody took a seat nearby, his wooden leg thumping with every step. People had begun to gather in the room by that time. My father sat with the twins and Ginny was keeping to herself at the end of the table. Remus and Tonks had found two seats next to Dumbledore and were conversing about the current state of affairs.
"Everyone here?" Harry asked from behind me.
I nodded.
"I'll go get Neville." He said and was gone again.
"Come on." Hermione took my arm and we took seats at the table.
There was a time of whispered conversation until Harry came in with Neville and Draco in tow. Moody made a strange harrumphing noise in his throat and Snape's eyes widened in surprise. Only Dumbledore appeared untroubled at the appearance of a Malfoy in our midst.
Harry let the other two sit and took his place at the head of the table. Quickly he gave an overview of the most recent events. Moody grumbled considerably at the mention of the break-ins. I noticed Draco shifting uncomfortably when the writing on the wall was described. As he finished, Harry motioned for Draco to stand and join him.
"Now, whatever information you have." Harry said and sat down.
"Well…I recently…" He stumbled over his words nervously, for the first time since he arrived he seemed uncomfortable.
"Just tell them what you told me." Hermione called.
"My son spends a great deal of time with my mother. More than I would like. I've found through him that she remains …connected to the world of dark magic. It would do no good to accuse her or send her to prison, she's beyond action, she simply knows things. Things that she has little problem telling my son."
"What has this to do with anything?" Snape muttered.
"Recently," Draco began with a bit of force behind the word, "My son informed me that his grandmother was planning for a change. A…different arrangement in the world. That soon all of Voldemort's rivals would be dealt with."
"But Voldemort was killed." Neville spoke up a nervous pitch to his voice.
"That was my thought, however Bane, my son, simply smiled at me. He told me that Potter's line would end. That…the war wasn't as over as we thought."
Harry frowned deeply and motioned for Draco to sit, which he did gratefully.
"That last statement about Harry's line would lead me to believe that the children are in danger." Remus said.
"But Voldemort was killed." Neville said again.
"So it would seem, but things are rarely as they seem." Dumbledore said thoughtfully.
"I was there. I know he died." Harry said compellingly.
"You were there the first time as well." Snape reminded him.
"We killed him. He died." I spoke up, remembering that bitterly cold night.
"Perhaps a six year old is not a source to be trusted." Ginny whispered.
"My son doesn't lie to me." Draco answered her.
The argument continued for hours. The only thing that anyone could agree with was that the children were in trouble and that the prophesy might be referring to them.
"Have any of the children displayed skills that might lend them to be the one's described in the prophesy?" Dumbledore asked.
"Meshach was born at the end of July." Hermione said.
"Has anyone bothered to question the child?" Moody growled.
"I didn't really want to involve the children." Harry explained.
"If you haven't noticed, they are already involved." Said Snape.
Hermione placed a hand on my arm and I saw her jaw tighten angrily.
"I will not have my son questioned in front of you all as if he did something wrong." She declared loudly.
"Then what would you suggest?" Snape argued.
"Certainly not that." My father said standing up.
A huge fight erupted between the two older men and my wife. Finally when Snape began insulting Hermione I stood up and cried loudly, "No one is touching my child. And if you do not stop calling my wife names, there will be a problem."
"Gentlemen, lets all calm down shall we," Dumbledore interrupted, "I believe that we could all use a bit of dinner and good night's rest. It's getting very late"
There was a mumble of agreement and chairs began to scrape away from the table. Hermione glared once at Snape and stalked off to kitchen after Tonks.
"You are all more than welcome to stay for dinner. I imagine we'll be meeting tomorrow night as well." Remus stated.
Snape was out the door before anyone noticed he was gone. Draco seemed very uncomfortable at the idea of staying, but no one had dismissed him yet. The others simply milled around, stretching their legs and discussing in hushed voices the events of moments before. I rested my head in my hands and sighed.
For so many years we had thought it was over. We had rejoiced and lived our lives, only to find that every effort was pointless. No matter how hard we tried to protect those we loved, they were still in danger. Perhaps Remus was right and there was no world that was safe. Maybe we were doomed to live the rest of our lives fighting. With great effort I denied the urge to grab my wife and children and run. They needed us. Harry needed us.