A/N: Author's notes will now follow chapters instead of preceding them, starting today.

Chapter Six: Blighted Yarrow

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Fred followed Harry out of the courtyard and back into the candlelit hallway. Harry was incredibly cheerful, enthusiastically returning the salutations of any and all who greeted him. Ron looked back the way they had come and saw that the onlookers were whispering excitedly among themselves.

"Harry's very influential," Hermione said softly to Ron. She looked at Harry as if to reassure herself that he couldn't hear her, but Ron thought she needn't have bothered. Harry was shouting something to Dean Thomas and was surely oblivious to his peers behind him. "He knows that his mood affects just about everyone else in the Order, so he tries hard to keep his spirits up, but it's not easy when he's got so many cares weighing on his mind. I'm glad to see him so happy. First you, and now whatever it is that he's found."

"You don't know what it is?" said Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "Well, I have some guesses, but I don't want to say anything in case I'm wrong. I wouldn't want to get your hopes up for nothing."

Harry suddenly stopped at a heavy door. "In here," he said, and pushed the door open.

Ron remembered the room from the night before, when he had first seen Harry and the surviving members of his family. The little pinpricks of light were still dancing just below the ceiling, illuminating three figures around the long table in the center of the room – his father, Bill, and Neville. All three of them were grinning broadly. Sitting upon the table were two objects: a large, lumpy something that was hidden from view beneath a large piece of rough fabric, and a scraggly-looking potted plant.

"We found it," said Harry, "when we went back to the Burrow to get your family's broomsticks, Ron. We've only just come from there."

"Found what?" said Fred.

"This!" said Neville, carefully taking hold of the pot and lifting it off the table.

Ron stared at the thing in the pot. "It's a weed," he said flatly. He knew that he was stating the obvious, but he couldn't help himself. This was what Harry was so excited about? It was a long, slender stalk with feathery leaves topped with a brownish cluster of drab little flowers. Or at least, Ron thought they were flowers, but he had never seen blossoms of that color before.

"It's not a weed," Neville declared, sounding highly affronted. "This is Blighted Yarrow." He looked triumphantly at the group.

Hermione, Fred, and Ginny gasped, clearly recognizing the name, but it meant nothing to Ron. "Blighted what?" he said, but no one seemed to have heard him. The others were all staring wide-eyed at the plant.

"Of course," Hermione whispered. "I should have known it straight away!"

"And… you think that…" Ginny stammered.

"We do," said Harry, beaming at her.

A slow smile spread across Fred's face. "You're joking."

"We wouldn't joke about something like this," Harry laughed.

"You are JOKING!" Fred shouted. His smile seemed to split his face in two.

"No," said Neville, who was starting to laugh.

Ginny was giggling haltingly. Hermione had pressed one hand to her mouth and seemed to be near tears. Fred raised both of his fists in the air and let out a war whoop. Bill joined in, throwing a congratulatory arm about Harry's shoulders.

Everyone was celebrating except for Ron. He didn't have the least idea why the plant was so important, and he felt strangely stupid as he watched his friends and family embrace each other, feeling like he should know more than he did.

Ron's confusion must have shown on his face, because Harry took one look at him and began making shushing motions. "Ron – I'm sorry. You've no idea what we're on about, do you?"

The others were trying to stifle their laughter with varying degrees of success. "Erm, no," said Ron, looking around at them.

"Didn't you study Blighted Yarrow in Potions?" Bill said incredulously.

"Not until seventh year," said Hermione. "Snape would never let any students but those in Advanced Potions work with it. It's too dangerous an ingredient."

Neville snorted a laugh. "Not a bad policy on his part. Can you imagine how petrified everyone would have been to know that I was fooling around with this stuff?"

Everyone laughed again.

"Seriously, though, Ron," said Harry, who was still smiling, "this plant is a crucial ingredient in some of the deadliest poisons that we have recipes for."

Ron frowned at the potted plant. There was only one reason he could think of for the Order to want such a thing. "You're going to make one of these poisons," he said. It wasn't a question.

"That's right," said Harry.

Ron looked up at his best friend with narrowed eyes. "And who are you planning to kill with it? Percy? Malfoy?"

The others' smiles vanished. "No," Harry said, now sounding very grim. "We are not planning to use it on any people. We're going to make Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant."

Ron blinked in surprise. "Flesh-Eating… Why?"

"It's for the Stranglers," Mr. Weasley said softly. "It works on more than just slugs."

Something wasn't right about that. Memories of Hagrid working in his garden drifted back to Ron, and he shook his head. "But it doesn't work on plants. I've seen Hagrid use it in the pumpkin patch, and it never hurt them, not the leaves or the vines or the pumpkins or anything!"

"That's not entirely true," said Bill. "The skin of most plants is impervious to the poison in Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant, but if the skin is punctured, then the plant will be harmed."

"But slugs eat holes in leaves," said Ron, remembering his mother's struggle to keep the pests off of her zucchini in the garden at the Burrow. "So wouldn't they be destroyed by the slug repellant?"

"Yes, they would," said Neville, "but it doesn't usually hurt a plant much to lose a couple of its leaves. Hagrid probably thought it a small price to pay to get rid of the slugs. But he would have been very careful to check the pumpkin vines before using the slug repellant, because he wouldn't want to harm those. From there the poison could spread through the entire plant – roots, leaves, gourd, everything."

Comprehension dawned on Ron's face.

"You see where we're going with this now, I think," said Harry. "If we can get a Strangler in the stem, near to the ground, then it'll be eaten up from the inside. The whole thing will shrivel up and die." He smiled wickedly.

"I hope you've got a plan for getting past the Stranglers' thick hides," Fred said grimly. "If you need someone to coat his knife with this stuff and charge in, I'll be the first to volunteer, but I don't think I'll survive the encounter."

"We couldn't afford that, Fred," said Harry. "And we won't have to take the risk, either." He reached forward and pulled away the canvas, and the lumpy object beneath was revealed.

A crossbow.

"We'll dip the bolt heads in the slug repellant and shoot the Stranglers from a distance," said Harry. "The bolts will pierce their skin and poison them. When the Stranglers have become weakened enough, then we'll move in for the kill."

"Do you have more than one of those?" said Ron, eyeing the weapon uncertainly.

"We do," said Ginny. "Hagrid managed to make quite a few before he died. He spent most of his free time on it, as a matter of fact."

"Why?" Ron said incredulously.

"Preparation," said Mr. Weasley, "for what we're about to do."

"Even though you didn't have this plant?" said Ron.

"Poisoning the Stranglers was Neville's idea. How to do it was Hagrid's," said Harry.

"We both thought that Flesh-Eating Slug Repellant was the best choice," said Neville, "but another poison of sufficient strength would do in a pinch, and we were definitely in a pinch. Snape and I drew up a whole list of acceptable toxins, but we were lacking at least one ingredient for all of them. The most powerful poisons always contain unusual ingredients, and those are very hard to come by these days."

"Hagrid wanted to be ready the moment we had all the materials for a strong enough potion, whether it was the slug repellant or not," Hermione explained. "He thought that once we had a brew, nobody would be interested in waiting for a safe way of administering it. They'd just want to run up with their knives and start hacking at the Stranglers, and that wouldn't do. The slug repellant would work fast, but not that fast. Too many people would die."

"He would've been right, too," Fred said viciously. "I don't know about you guys, but I can't wait to take down those abominations."

"Neither can I," Harry confessed. "No one will want to wait, and I couldn't blame anyone for feeling that way, but that is exactly why the plan must not leave this room." He stared around at them all, Ron included, with a deadly serious expression on his face. "We are going to do this properly. This is going to take planning, practice, and precision, and if word gets out that we are developing a weapon, we'll have a near riot on our hands of people who are thirsting for revenge."

Mr. Weasley shook his head. "That will happen regardless of when you break the news."

"All the more reason to wait until Severus finishes the potion," said Harry. "I won't get everyone's hopes up when there's a chance that this can't be done. And the longer I wait to say anything, the less time everyone will have to sit around and stew."

"It's going to be hard enough for us," said Neville. "I've already been stewing for six years – ever since Hagrid first hatched the idea."

Ron's jaw dropped. "Six years? It took you six years to find this one plant?"

"Didn't we mention that it's rare?" said Neville.

"We've had precious few opportunities to search for it," said Harry. "Leaving headquarters is always a dangerous business, no matter where you're going."

"I know – but six years?" said Ron, who felt unable to wrap his mind around it.

"Does anyone else think it's ironic that it wasn't found until Ron returned?" said Ginny. She shot Ron a dazzling smile.

Harry glanced at Bill and Mr. Weasley. "Well, we'd never have found the Blighted Yarrow if it hadn't been for Ron – and Percy, too."

"What do you mean?" said Ron.

"It's because of you that we went back to the Burrow – to get the broomsticks you mentioned," said Mr. Weasley. "None of us would have ever dreamed of returning. I don't think anyone here has thought of those broomsticks in years." He looked at each of his surviving children in turn, who shook their heads.

"And while we were there, we found the very thing we've spent all this time looking for," said Harry. "But it's only because of Percy that it was growing there at all."

"Blighted Yarrow is rare because it only grows under specific conditions," said Neville. "For example, the presence of slightly saline soil is required."

Ron gaped at Neville, remembering what Fred had said just a short time ago about why nothing grew at the Burrow anymore. "You mean… because Percy's followers salted the ground…"

Harry smiled wickedly. "They were growing between the dead zone and the grass, right on the border between damaged and healthy ground."

"His act of spite might just be his undoing," said Bill. He paused for a moment and added, "He deserves it." No one contradicted him, although Mr. Weasley looked saddened.

Harry drew a deep breath and released it. "We'll have to hit the Stranglers hard and fast," he said. "We'll use a coordinated attack to bring as many down at the same time as possible. We aren't going to want to give the Legions a chance to recover enough to protect them."

"And what will happen once the Stranglers are down?" Ginny said quietly.

Harry looked calmly back at the group. "Then we attack the Black Tower," he said. "There's no point in waiting. Once the Stranglers are gone we will be on equal footing with the Legions. If we retreat, they'll only come up with something new to replace the plants. Besides, our numbers are shrinking every year. If we continue to delay, there won't be enough witches and wizards left to overthrow Percy. Whether we win or lose, I think this will be our last chance."

"How long will it take for Snape to make the slug repellant?" said Fred, almost as if he hadn't heard Harry's last sentence.

"One day," said Mr. Weasley, "and he's already started. By this time tomorrow, it will be ready."

"So soon?" said Ginny.

Mr. Weasley smiled. "Just because one of the ingredients was hard to find doesn't mean that the potion is complicated."

"We won't be ready by then," said Ginny.

"Certainly not," said Harry. "But we will be preparing. Arthur, I'm going to need your help in planning our attack. We've got to decide who will be on broomsticks, who will be on the ground, who goes together, and where to place everyone."

"We'll need a backup plan, too," said Bill, "in case something unexpected should occur."

"Which it almost certainly will," Hermione added. "We've all been in battles before; no plan ever comes off without a hitch."

Fred laughed bitterly. "They're usually only on track for about five minutes – if they last that long at all."

Harry nodded. "True. But this time, things will be different. We'll have the element of surprise on our side, and as long as we attack all the Stranglers that we possibly can at the same moment, we will have struck a mighty blow. And if we plan this well, then the fliers and infantry can move on to other Stranglers before the Legions even know what has happened. I intend to have this operation planned out to the millisecond."

Ron took one look at Harry's rock-hard expression and knew that he wasn't joking.

"Right," Harry continued. "I'm going to need all the Heads, save Snape, as he's otherwise occupied just now, as well as Tonks, Daedalus, and Remus. Bill, you and Arthur will stay as well, and you too, Hermione. Ginny, I need you to stick with Neville. He has a few tasks to see to and will need some help."

"Oi!" said Fred, sounding more than a little bit angry. "What about me?"

"You know perfectly well that you're not an advisor," Harry said, and Fred blushed. "But I do have an assignment for you." He smiled slightly.

Fred drew himself up proudly. "And what would that be?"

"I want you to take Ron out and show him the Black Tower."

Ron felt his jaw drop as a collective gasp rang out. "He's underage," said Mr. Weasley, sounding more than a bit panicky. "You can't send him out there." Ginny and Hermione chimed in with similar, frightened objections.

Harry did not look back at any of them. His eyes were measuring Ron as intently as they had the night before. Ron stared back, trying his best not to waver under that steely look. "He doesn't know what he's up against," said Harry. "He hasn't seen the Stranglers yet – or the Tower."

"What do you mean, what 'he's' up against?" Bill said harshly. "We're all in this fight together, and Ron's only just arrived."

"Ron returns to us after ten years and everything starts changing," Harry said softly. "No, I think that Ginny's on to something. He is more involved in this business than you're willing to admit, Bill."

"You can't." Determination had replaced some of the fear in Mr. Weasley's voice. "He's too young. It's too dangerous. I have great faith in all my children, of course, but to send him out there untested – even with someone as experienced as Fred –"

"We have a few more broomsticks now," Harry interrupted. "I propose that they fly, protected by both the Disillusionment Charm and Invisibility Cloaks."

"Cloaks don't grow on trees," Bill protested. "The patrollers need them."

"They can be spared," said Harry, finally looking away from Ron. "They can be spared," he repeated firmly when Bill opened his mouth again. "The north and west quadrants have been quiet these past few weeks. The patrollers can use the Disillusionment Charm and keep away from the heart of town. I will instruct Fred not to go anywhere near the Stranglers and to show Ron the Black Tower only from a distance. He should see what we are facing – but I don't intend to put him in unnecessary danger."

"He's much safer here," Mr. Weasley protested.

"How long will he be safe?" said Harry. "Yes, it's more secure within this building than without – but that won't always be so. We could be discovered at any moment. We would have been found long ago if it hadn't been for Luna. You know that."

"I do," said Mr. Weasley. Ron had to admire his father for remaining so calm beneath Harry's unsettling gaze.

"And that's why he should catch a glimpse of his enemies now," Harry continued. "I am optimistic about our plan. But if it should fail, then none of us will be safe here any more. Ron will be forced to flee into the streets without any idea of what is awaiting him. Not preparing for that possibility would be… negligent."

Mr. Weasley turned his eyes up on Ron and studied him for a moment before saying any more. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

Ron blinked in surprise at the question. They had all been talking about him without talking to him, and he hadn't expected to be included now. "I think… I think I'd like to see the Stranglers," he said. "Harry's right. If I'm going to be stuck here, then I ought to know what's going on out there."

Mr. Weasley nodded as if he had expected Ron to say just that. "Fathers should be able to protect their children, but I can't kid myself into thinking that I can keep you safe now that you're here. You may go with Fred, who will take even more than his usual care on this assignment, I'm sure."

Fred drew himself up to his full height. "I'll take extra care, Dad. You have my word that we'll both come back safe and sound."

"Thank you, son," said Mr. Weasley, but he wasn't looking at Fred. He was still looking at Ron.

"Good. You should go as soon as you're ready," said Harry. "Not many people are going to know about our plans for a few days, so I may need you later, Fred."

Fred's proud posture became even stiffer, though Ron didn't see how that was possible. "Thank you," he said, sounding almost formal.

Ginny, Bill, and Hermione looked even less thrilled about the excursion than Mr. Weasley did. "Be careful, Ron," said Ginny, and she gave him an anxious peck on the cheek.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to do the same thing. "Yes – please be careful," she echoed fervently. Bill said nothing; he simply nodded to Fred and gave Ron a regretful glance.

"I will be," said Ron, although he knew it was a terribly inadequate statement.

"Right," said Fred. "We're off, then." And so saying, he ushered Ron out the door.

Fred immediately set off down the main corridor, and Ron followed. It seemed that Fred had no desire to speak. He walked quickly, his back ramrod-straight, while Ron hurried to keep up. Indeed, nothing at all was said until Fred came to a stop in front of another closed door. A young woman with long, dark hair was standing guard in front of it. "Back again?" she said, smiling warmly at Fred.

"I need two Cloaks and two broomsticks, please, Rose," said Fred without preamble.

Rose's eyebrows contracted slightly. She gave Ron a suspicious look. "Why do I get the feeling that the second set is for him?"

"It is for Ron, yes."

Rose crossed her arms. "He's underage."

"He is to be taken out and shown our botanical nemeses," said Fred. "Harry's orders."

Now looking uncertain, Rose's eyebrows climbed upwards. "Are you sure?"

"We've only just come from him," said Fred, who sounded a bit impatient.

Rose shuffled her feet. "Fred, do you swear that you're telling me the truth? Because I'm going to get into a lot of trouble if you're not."

"He's telling the truth," Ron found himself saying. "Send anyone you like to check with Harry or our dad."

Rose studied their faces for a moment before finally nodding. "All right. I suppose you'd like your usual broom, then?" she asked Fred.

"Yes, please. And the new Cleansweep Eleven, too. That one belonged to Ron."

Rose pulled a long, silver chain from the neck of her robes. An intricately carved silver key hung from it, and the chain was so long that Rose didn't have to take it off or even stoop to unlock the door. "Just a moment," she said, and ducked inside.

"What did you mean when you said that the Cleansweep belonged to me?" Ron asked Fred as soon as the door had closed again.

"We don't have nearly as many broomsticks as we'd like," Fred explained, "so the ones that we do have are considered property of the Order."

"But – surely not Harry's Firebolt –"

"Even the Firebolt," said Fred. "Although Harry usually rides that whenever he needs a broomstick. It's the fastest broom we've got, and if there's anyone who needs to be able to get away from a bad situation quickly, it's Harry. We can't afford to lose him."

Ron understood – it was obvious how much the Order depended on Harry for its survival – but he couldn't imagine what it must have been like for Harry to give up his broomstick for communal ownership. Ron didn't know if he'd have been able to do it, had the Firebolt been his. Then again, he hadn't lived through the last ten years. The daily struggle for survival probably made personal possessions seem less important.

The door suddenly opened again and Rose reappeared, toting two broomsticks and some silvery cloth that Ron recognized immediately as Invisibility Cloak material. She locked the door again with her silver key before handing the brooms over. "Your old brooms," she said. "And a Cloak for each of you." She smiled at Ron as she gave him his Cloak. "This one used to be Harry's, you know."

Ron looked up at the young woman in surprise. "Really?"

Rose nodded. "You were his best friend, after all; I remember. I thought it might make you feel a little bit safer."

Ron looked curiously at her, trying to remember who she'd been at Hogwarts. "I'm sorry… I don't… what's your surname?"

The young woman smiled. "Zeller."

Ron gaped at her. "Rose Zeller? The little Hufflepuff?"

Rose laughed. "I was little, then. I would have been twelve when you disappeared."

"Perhaps you two can get reacquainted some other time," Fred interrupted in a terse voice. "We should get moving."

"Right," said Ron, who was still staring at Rose in disbelief.

"Some other time," Rose agreed. She smiled kindly at Ron. "Welcome back. And be careful out there."

"We will be," Fred reassured her, and steered Ron back down the hall. As soon as they were out of earshot, Fred turned to Ron and teased, "Moonstruck, Ickle Ronniekins?"

"No," Ron said truthfully. Rose Zeller had been undeniably pretty, but she wasn't a patch on Hermione. Ron blinked. Where had that thought come from? Now was no time to be thinking about pretty women. "It's just that – well, she was just a kid when I – I don't know if I'm going to get used to seeing everyone all grown up like this."

Fred gave a brief laugh. "I can imagine – but we'll have time to philosophize later. Right now there are some things that I need to tell you. First of all, we're going to be doubly invisible, like Harry said. Of course, that means that we won't be able to see each other, and we need to stay close together, so I'm going to use the Leash to keep you within five yards of me at all times…"

Ron smiled at the mention of the "Leash". Their mother had used to charm her children to keep them within so many feet of her during Diagon Alley trips, since they had been a lot to keep on eye on while digging through cobra scales in a potions shop. None of the young Weasleys had appreciated it, and the charm was referred to by all of them as the Leash.

"… and we're going to have to do some talking, obviously, or I won't be able to explain what we're seeing. It's very important that you whisper at all times…"

Fred went on in this fashion until they reached the door to the street. There seemed to be an awful lot of rules, but Ron didn't say as much. The rules were probably what kept the patrollers alive from day to day.

Fred kept reiterating the fact that they were venturing out into a snake pit as if Ron weren't already aware of that fact. With each successive reminder, Ron felt more and more nervous. He gently stroked the velvety fabric of his Cloak with one thumb, and it helped to calm his nerves somewhat. Ron knew that he was being silly – a Cloak was a Cloak – but somehow, knowing that he was going to have something of Harry's with him almost made it seem as if Harry were coming along himself. It really had been thoughtful of Rose to let him use it, he thought. He would have to remember to thank her later.

At last, Fred seemed to have finished his lecture. "I have to Disillusion you." He suddenly rapped Ron on top of his head with his wand. Ron had never been Disillusioned before, but he had some idea of what to expect from what Harry had told him. It was just as Harry had said; it felt as if Fred had broken an egg on his head and its insides were sliding down over his skin. Ron raised his hands in front of his face when the chill had passed over them. They looked just like they were made of the same wood as the front door.

"This is brilliant!" Ron laughed, turning his hand this way and that to watch his skin change texture.

"I'm only sorry that I didn't know how to do this charm when I was at Hogwarts," said Fred with a wry little smile. "Only imagine the mayhem I could have caused if I'd been able to blend into the background."

Ron blinked at Fred's use of the word "I", but said nothing. Fred and George had often referred to themselves as "we", for they had been inseparable. Ron could only suppose that Fred was getting used to thinking of himself as a single entity. It was an uncomfortable thought.

Fred rapped both broomsticks and his own head with his wand, and within moments, they had all blended into the fading wallpaper behind them. Ron could barely see Fred's movement as he handed over one of the broomsticks.

"Put your Cloak on," Fred directed. "Snug it on tight; we don't want to take any chances."

Ron did as he was told. He looked at where Fred's outline had been and saw that it had vanished.

Finally, Fred cast their mother's old charm on himself and Ron and gave some final instructions. "Remember what I told you. Stay as close to me as you can. Touch my arm if you have something to say, and whisper when you say it."

Ron nodded, but then he remembered that Fred probably couldn't see it. "Right," he said aloud.

"You remember what I told you about following the streets, if anything should happen to me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then let's go."

The front door swung open. When a soft whoosh announced Fred's departure, Ron mounted his own broomstick and rearranged his Cloak to cover as much of his body as possible. Then he gently kicked off from the ground and soared out the open doorway. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Fred's voice whispered from just next to him.

"Heading west down the street now."

Ron set off in the manner that Fred had dictated to him – flying low over the ground at an easy pace. His eyes darted this way and that, keeping watch for any movement whatsoever. According to Fred, nothing stirred in the streets except Order patrollers, Legions and their charges, and Stranglers, all of which were to be avoided.

Fortunately, Ron saw none of these things as he and Fred flew on, now and then taking a turn onto a new street. This part of the city was much like what he had already seen – broken and uninhabited. The sight held less terror for him than it had yesterday, but it was still a sobering sight. For him, everything had truly changed in the blink of an eye.

It didn't take Ron long to spot the Black Tower. Its dark spire stuck out above the rooftops like a sore thumb – a dangerous sore thumb. Yet even though Ron knew the spire for a beacon of warning, he thought there was something laughable about the way it so obviously stood out from every other building in the city. It was designed to draw the eye. Surely it had been built by someone with a huge ego – an ego the size of Surrey, at least. But it didn't look like the kind of thing that Percy would ever build, bigheaded as he'd always been. That cold, bleak ostentation was more… more Malfoy's style, really.

Suddenly, Ron heard a soft hiss from Fred on his left and felt a stretching sensation, as if there were a giant rubber band between himself and his brother and it was being pulled tight. The Leash was working; Fred had stopped and Ron had passed him. Silently Ron backed up until the stretchy feeling was gone.

Fred touched Ron's arm and whispered very softly, "Just ahead, fifty meters or so."

"A Strangler?" Ron breathed.

"Yes," Fred whispered back. "It's got to be a new one. It's not marked on our map at headquarters."

Ron peered up the street, but the only thing he saw at that distance was an upcoming intersection. "Are you sure? I don't see –"

"I'm sure," Fred replied. "I'm better at this than you are."

Ron's heart fluttered in his chest. Whether he was simply nervous or flat-out terrified, he couldn't tell. "What now?"

"We'll fly 'round that building over there and rise about twenty meters," said Fred, still speaking as softly as possible. His chameleon-like arm suddenly appeared from beneath his Invisibility Cloak to point at a jagged building a few blocks from the intersection. "That will put us far enough away to be safe from the thing. Follow me, and I'll tell you when to look."

Ron did as he was told and rose silently into the air, staying close to the cold stone walls of the nearest building. They weaved their way around destroyed houses, heading away from the street they had been on, until they reached the structure Fred had pointed at. When he noted that it stood taller than most of the others, Ron understood why Fred had picked it. Fred had said that, should anything happen to their Cloaks, they would blend in better against the streets and rubble than they would against the stark blue of the sky. A tall building allowed them to get some height for a good vantage point without compromising themselves.

The bond began to stretch again, and Ron followed his brother up the side of the wall. They stopped a short way below its jagged ending. A very soft scrape of flesh on stone told Ron that Fred was peeking around the corner. A moment later, Fred's breathy whisper sounded in his left ear.

"Take a look. Keep as much of your body behind the corner as possible. Don't make a sound."

Ron's palms were sweaty on the handle of his broomstick. As soon as he felt the breath of air that marked Fred moving out of the way, he drifted his broom into position, just at the edge of the wall. He inhaled and exhaled a few times, and then, very cautiously, poked just his head around the corner to look down the street.

His first thought was that a giant glob of seaweed had somehow transplanted itself from the ocean floor to the street corner. Long, greenish-gray tentacles undulated slowly in the air, some of them pointing toward the sky, others stretching out before it as if searching for something. Tough, brownish roots anchored it to the ground. The concrete all around was cracked and broken.

The Strangler's arms were moving languidly, almost as if it really was an underwater plant. Ron suspected that anyone who had never been in contact with Devil's Snare might think that it was rather benign – ugly, but benign. He knew better. That clump of vicious vines below the trapdoor at Hogwarts had been terribly strong. He'd been too embarrassed to admit it at the time, but only thing that had saved him was Hermione's quick thinking.

Ron was just about to duck back around the corner when he saw a small, dark shape dart out from between two vacant buildings. With a speed that shocked Ron to his toes, a cluster of vines shot toward the little creature. He heard a yowl and a crack like a whip, and the cat fled back the way it came. Tentacles smashed into the pavement where the cat had just been, causing chunks of broken pavement to flip into the air.

No sooner had the Strangler struck than Fred's hands dug into Ron and pulled him back around the corner. Ron was squashed up uncomfortably against the wall as Fred took a look at the Strangler, but he barely noticed. Was that how George had died? Had he been pulverized by a tentacle, or had he been crushed within its clutches? Ron shivered compulsively at the mental images that surfaced.

"What was that?" came Fred's voice in Ron's ear.

"A cat," said Ron, grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to think about George's fate, or Hagrid's, or the injuries that Hermione must have sustained during her own encounter with a Strangler. "I think it got away."

Fred let out a long breath. "Just about the only thing with quick enough reflexes to escape a Strangler, I reckon. So… what do you think now?"

"I think I'm getting the picture," Ron whispered. "It's so fast! And its arms are so long!"

"Ten meters, I'd say," Fred whispered back. "And that's a young one. Fully grown, they can get to at least fifteen. You can see why we need to be able to attack them from a distance."

Ron nodded mutely, not remembering that Fred couldn't see him.

"Right," Fred murmured. "Time to be moving on. We'll head down this street in the opposite direction from the Strangler."

Ron felt a slight stretching as Fred moved forward, and he quickly moved to follow. They flew only a short way before turning down a different street. With that turn, Ron could tell that they were moving directly toward the black steeple.

It seemed that only a very short minute had passed before Fred abruptly came to a halt again. This time, Ron could see the reason for himself. They had come to another intersection, and two Stranglers were clearly visible several meters in either direction of the cross street. He waited silently for Fred to make a decision.

"I know Harry intended for me to get a little bit closer to the Black Tower than this," Fred finally whispered, "but I don't want to risk it. These Stranglers are new to me, too."

"Is that normal?" Ron breathed. "To see so many new ones when you go on patrol, I mean?"

"No," Fred replied, and even in his whisper Ron could hear fear and uncertainty. "It's a good thing we've finally got a plan of action, because the Legions are getting aggressive. Like I told you earlier, they're trying to pen us in."

The strategy was obvious to Ron. The farther the Legions' boundaries extended, the less of London there was left to search for the Order's headquarters.

"Well, it doesn't matter much, anyway," Fred murmured. "I wouldn't have taken you much closer than this as it is. Too dangerous, what with all the Stranglers and human enemies about. If Harry were out here with you, he'd come to the same conclusion."

"But we're invisible," said Ron. "Doesn't that make it safer?"

"A little," said Fred, "but we think the Stranglers can sense us if we get too close, even if they can't see us. They're really nasty things; they'll attack anything that moves."

Ron frowned. "But you said that the Legions are charmed to keep them safe. Why can't the Order do that?" he whispered.

"It's Dark magic," Fred replied. "We can't use it."

Ron opened his mouth to question Fred further, but Fred suddenly hissed and backed up on his broomstick. Ron immediately saw why; a column of Percy's followers was marching up the street in their direction.

"Time to go," Fred whispered urgently. Ron swallowed his questions, turned his broomstick, and followed Fred back the way they had come.

---

A/N: My most profound apologies for the very long delay on the update. I feel like I've been working on this chapter forever. As I told one reader who emailed me to ask about the story's status, there have been many things that contributed to this. I started working on a new project at work, one that I did not especially enjoy, and it sucked my creativity dry. I find that unhappiness at work inevitably leads to stalled stories. I was tired every day and did not want to sit down in front of my computer after work at all. And then, when I did work on the chapter, it just didn't come easily. I've edited and rewritten chunks of this chapter many times. But the good news is, I'm now working on a different project at work which I am very excited about, and I'm wanting to write again. I am not abandoning this story (or Dark Uprising, for that matter).

Emaleneangel: I'm glad you find the story compelling, but I'm very sorry that it's made you so sad. I hope you conquered the spiders (and not the other way around). Welcome!

Seraphim: I think that, should Harry live past book 7, he could grow up to be a very competent leader.

krysalys73: Can I just say that your review was oddly… prophetic? :-) You were dead on!

High Serpent King: Thanks for the kick in the pants. I told you I was almost done. :-)

kungzuone: Merci! Glad you like it.

Reviewer: Ah, "Reviewer" strikes again. I am working on the other story, too!

starsmiles: Thanks! It's nice to see your name again.

Rawiya Prabhakar: Wow, thank you! Again, I'm sorry for the long wait. I hope you haven't vanished in the interim.

J Black: If the cliffhanger was going to kill you, I expect you're dead by now. Sorry. :-(

Snowy: Aw, thank you! I'm so glad you're hooked!

Belle84: Thank you! It's hard to know sometimes whether anyone else will find my writing interesting. It's interesting to me, but that doesn't tell me much. :-)

Spasmodic Dust Bunny: Hope it helped get the creative juices flowing, at least!