Disclaimer: By now, you know all the disclaimers and warnings. If you don't, I suggest you refer to chapters 1 through 10.

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Back from Beyond the Veil, Part 12

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Only a few days after the departure of his godfather and Remus, Harry found his feeling of foreboding growing stronger than ever. This probably had something to do with the determined glint he had been seeing in George's eyes lately. He wondered what was going on in his friend's mind. George seemed to have lost all rational sense since Fred's death, and Harry hoped George wouldn't do something that could lead to someone else getting hurt or killed.

Currently, Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Penelope, and the nine Weasley children were gathered in Bill and Charlie's room. No one was saying much, despite the cramped conditions. The events of that summer seemed to hover over them like an ominous storm cloud, weighing them down so that they could hardly bear to raise their heads. Harry wished bitterly that he was in France. He even wished he was back in Grimmauld Place. He wished life was back to the way it was, in the days when Fred had been alive, in the days before Voldemort regained his body. All the trouble stemmed directly from Voldemort's return, and things had only gotten worse since Sirius' return from the dead.

We should do it anyway, George muttered. Go after the Death Eaters, I mean.George - Bill protested.

Be quiet, Bill. You're getting as bad as Percy. I don't think there's anyone in this room who would object to getting even with the Death Eaters for killing Fred. And it's not all just about Fred. Think of what the Death Eaters have been responsible for! Mum's brothers, Uncle Fabian and Uncle Gideon... the Longbottoms... Harry's parents... Cedric Diggory... when do the murders stop? When does it all end? He looked furious.

But George, killing to avenge a death isn't the right thing to do! Hermione cried. The prospect of what her friends were thinking of doing scared her badly. Any one of them might end up dead because of this ridiculous plan.

So we just stand by as more innocents get murdered? George asked angrily. Hermione, this isn't killing for fun! This is killing to be sure no one else gets hurt!He has a point, Ron piped up. It's not like we'd be killing innocent Muggles, or something like that. We'd only be killing a group of evil people who take pleasure in hurting others - isn't that right? Hermione couldn't express what she felt. It's not the same! Murder is wrong, no matter why it's done! She looked around the room at her friends. And it's like Sirius says - none of us is strong enough to take on a pack of Death Eaters!I thought you weren't taking advice from someone responsible for the murder of a precious house-elf, Ron said, softly and bitterly. Hermione ignored him.

But if you put all of us together, what could happen? George inquired.

I - Hermione looked at Bill, Charlie, and Percy. To her horror, they all looked indecisive; she had thought they were dead-set against the idea, but now they appeared to be reconsidering. She didn't know about George, Ron, and Harry; but the three elder Weasley brothers had powers mature enough to kill.

Not even killing.... Charlie rubbed his chin. None of us are Aurors. You know we could just as well end up in Azkaban for trying to do an Auror's job. But if we could hold the Death Eaters prisoner.... contact the Aurors...You don't know where the Death Eaters are! Penelope said, frightened.

I know where to start looking, George snarled. Malfoy Manor. That scum, I know they're hiding some of their Death Eater cronies there... probably the ones who escaped from Azkaban last spring...It's immoral ! Hermione cried, distraught. Harry rubbed at his scar. It was prickling painfully.

Percy cleared his throat. Heads swiveled, expecting a long speech. He took off his specs and began to polish them slowly on the hem of his shirt. he said slowly, I... I think George is right, in a way. I'm against killing to punish murderers, but I also feel as if... I owe a debt. After all, the Ministry was unconsciously... supporting You-Know-Who, even though we didn't mean to... He looked embarrassed, but determined. I think... I would like to repay the debt I owe to the rest of the community. But if I could achieve it without actually killing these people.... just bringing them to justice.... George protested vehemently. Percy, I don't care about Azkaban, or punishment, or whatever! Bellatrix and her comrades deserve to be dead!But we can't just barge out and do it, Bill said firmly. Think about it. We'd be putting ourselves in danger. Mum and Dad are already heartbroken over Fred, and if something happened to one of us, it would kill them.But - George argued.

No buts, Bill said firmly. We've been over this enough. I'm the eldest, and it's my decision. The answer is no.

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Lord Voldemort's thin mouth curled up into a terrible smile. Nagini hissed, and he ran the end of a long finger along her back. Her master seemed half-awake; he was smiling and tapping his fingers against the arm of his chair as he dozed. He was trying his hardest to get into Harry Potter's thoughts, which had been proving more and more difficult by the day. Somehow, Potter was blocking him out. It wasn't Occlumency... but it was something. But nothing that child could do could keep Voldemort completely out of his head. He could catch snatches of Potter's thoughts now. Something about an attack. Worry for Black and Lupin, who were out of the country.... Finland, Fiji, the Falkland Islands... maybe France... an F country, anyway, doing work for Dumbledore. An attack... the Death Eaters... the Malfoys' manor.

Voldemort's terrible grin widened, and he broke the contact with Potter. He stood up. He would have to contact Lucius at once and tell him to be on the lookout. Just a couple of days ago, Lucius had reported that one of the Weasleys, George, had shown up in a pub, where he had blurted his plan to half a dozen Muggles. The Muggles had merely thought George was a drunk, but Lucius' son Draco had heard the entire conversation and reported it to his father.

It will take a distraction... Voldemort whispered to Nagini. Several... and the Weasley family will be playing a large part...

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France was a lovely country. Sirius and Remus were staying in a hotel near Burgundy, which was close to the contacts Dumbledore had them working with. Remus served as translator, since Sirius couldn't speak French. Their mission was actually going quite well - they were trying to suppress a group of hags who were trying to sneak into Britain to join Voldemort's ranks, and had succeeded in forcing the hags back to their caves in the Andes, if only temporarily. In their free time, they made day trips to Paris and Nice. They saw museums and landmarks, ate in stylish cafés, ventured into the catacombs, and even took part in a wine tasting hosted and participated in entirely by witches and wizards. The beret-wearing croissant postcard was found, purchased and sent to Harry. The nights were spent in their beautiful hotel suite, making love or just talking for hours on end.

But try as they might to immerse themselves in work, pleasure, and play, the thought of the ring and the shadow of doubt their leaving Britain had cast over their minds was like a heavy weight on their shoulders. They had only been in France for less than a week, but it felt much longer.

Do you think we should have stayed in Britain? Remus asked his mate one night.

Sirius was staring out the window, chin in hand. It had started to rain, and the water ran down the glass in fat drops, obscuring their vision of the street below. As Remus waited for his lover to say something else, he found himself staring at the ruby set into Sirius' father's ring. It flickered and flashed in the light from the room's fireplace; hypnotic, almost. Remus shook his head and focused instead on Sirius' reflection in the window.

We should have stayed. Sirius repeated. He ran a hand through his hair. His left wrist still bore the jagged scar he had cut into his skin with the broken bottle. Remus tried not to look at that. There were too many things about his lover that hurt him to look at - the scar on his wrist, the awful ring... the scar across his chest from Bellatrix's curse... the haunted look in his eyes that was the result of being imprisoned in Azkaban and which would never fade away entirely. He swallowed hard and put his arms around Sirius' waist. His lover was tense, rigid. His hands were like ice, and Remus took them in his to try and warm them.

Something bad's going to happen. I can feel it. Sirius muttered, as Remus tried to rub warmth into his fingers, doing his best to avoid touching that horrid ring.

Remus sighed. So can I.We never should have agreed to leave, Sirius muttered. Dammit! I mean, think about it. Molly and Arthur can barely function. All the Weasleys are still in shock over Fred's death. If something happens, they won't be able to fight back. Something flickered in his eyes. And Harry depends on us. I know he's got the rest of the Order watching over him, but I still wish we were there as well. It's not right for us all to be separated like this. He headed over to the silk-sheeted bed, pulling Remus along. And the Death Eaters... Voldemort. What exactly are they planning? Bellatrix is still on the run.

They stretched out on the bed, Remus curling up close beside Sirius and closing his eyes as Sirius' strong arms went around his waist. A feeling of restlessness came over them. Fighting hags was all well and good, but it was a waste of time at the moment. They needed to be back in Britain.

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As the Weasleys and their guests lay sleepless in their beds at the Burrow, and as Remus and Sirius lay sleepless in the hotel in France, too worried and sad to even consider making love, Lord Voldemort was getting ready to set his plan into action.

He had called his Death Eaters together. They waited before him, dressed in their black robes, masks in hand and eyes gleaming with excitement as they awaited his announcement. Peter Pettigrew was flexing the shining fingers of his silver hand in anticipation. Finally, Voldemort decided he had let the tension build long enough. He cleared his throat and began dispensing orders.

Lucius, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Macnair - I want you to kidnap Bill Weasley. He... knows things. Things about Dumbledore's pathetic plans... about the Department of Mysteries... the Veil... Black... and Potter. I want him. He will give us the information we desire, whether he is willing or not! He smirked. And he is also the reluctant one, keeping Potter and his friends from attacking us. If he is taken... the others will be twice as angry... and no one will be holding them back.

The four men bowed. Voldemort turned to the others. Bella, Avery, Dolohov - I have a different mission for you. His eyes gleamed as he handed Dolohov a small scroll of parchment. Go and find these people. And when you do, kill them. I don't care how - but be sure everyone knows. Most especially, be sure that Arthur and Molly Weasley know....Yes, my Lord, Dolohov murmured. He turned to leave. Bellatrix and Avery followed, and Voldemort turned to the rest of his Death Eaters. Well, my friends... I think we have a reception to prepare for!

The remaining Death Eaters cackled unpleasantly, and hurried to do as their master commanded. Voldemort's pale face split in an insane grin, and he laughed as well. Soon, very soon, Potter would meet his demise.....

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Breakfast at the Burrow was a very quiet affair lately.

The kitchen was packed with Weasleys and their various guests. The only sound was the clatter of dishes and the sound of chewing. Fleur would occasionally distribute seconds without a word. Penelope was likewise silently pouring coffee and tea. Harry had gotten a postcard from his godfather and Remus, with the beret-wearing croissant on it, but he couldn't muster up a laugh at the amusing image. The message on the postcard sounded falsely cheerful and slightly strained, as if the two men were trying to make it sound like they were having a better time than they really were.

A flutter of wings startled everyone in the room, and they all looked up to see a spotted owl landing on the back of Mr. Weasley's chair. He took the letter from its beak and slit it open. His eyes scanned the parchment, and his skin slowly turned pale grey.

Molly - he held the letter out to his wife, his hands trembling. As soon as Mrs. Weasley took it, Mr. Weasley pushed his glasses up on his forehead and buried his face in his hands.

Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek of agony. Her eyes filled with tears, and she looked utterly shocked. Arthur... your brother - his family!-What is it, Mum? Bill asked urgently.

Your uncle Augustus and his family were killed, Mrs. Weasley said in a quavering voice. By - by the D-Death Eaters.

Cries of dismay and anguish filled the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley hugged her husband, crying hard. Fleur and Penelope were crying, and the five Weasley boys were stunned. The cheerful, good-natured light that usually shone in Charlie's eyes was gone; Percy sniffed loudly and began to polish his specs. For a few moments, no one said anything. Then Mr. Weasley finally spoke.

We have to go, Molly, he said to his wife, looking glum. We have to go to Ireland and try to take care of everything.

Mrs. Weasley nodded bravely. I'll start packing now, she said, and hurried from the room, wiping her eyes on her flowered hanky.

George cast a look at Bill, clearly asking if this was enough to make his brother change his mind. But Bill didn't notice. He had gotten up to put an arm around his father, who continued to sit still, his hands over his face. Fleur and Penelope rose silently, tears glistening on their cheeks, and began to clear the table.

Harry felt a sick sense of dread in his stomach. It seemed like too much of a coincidence to him. His scar had been prickling the other night, during their conversation about attacking the Death Eaters... and just a few days later, Mr. Weasley's family had been killed... Could it be a coincidence? Or had Voldemort been reading snatches of Harry's thoughts, and heard about their plans? No, of course not. But what if...

Mrs. Weasley returned to the kitchen, dragging two battered suitcases. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat loudly and got to his feet. He took a roll of parchment and a quill from the nearest drawer, and began scribbling. After a few minutes, he rolled up the parchment and tapped it with his wand. It disappeared. Though it looked as though he had found out how the Order communicated without owls, Harry didn't really care.

I've sent word to Dumbledore, he said. His voice was heavy with sorrow. If we leave, Dumbledore has to know. He'll have to put extra protection around the house, to protect you all while we're gone.

Harry didn't even bother to feel upset or angry that he needed to be protected everywhere he went, like he was unable to take care of himself. Half of him ached with sorrow for the Weasleys, and his other half burned with fury for Voldemort. How many people was he going to kill before he... completed his goals, whatever they were? He could wholeheartedly agree with George - Voldemort and his followers needed to be stopped by any means possible, before it was too late. He put a reassuring arm around Ginny, who leaned against his shoulder and sniffled.

Ron got up and crossed to the window, leaning heavily on the sill and looking glumly out at the wet, dreary morning. Hermione bit her lip, and followed him. She stopped slightly behind him, studying his reflection in the glass much like Remus had done in France. Ron looked miserable - even more miserable than he had over the past few weeks. She couldn't understand what was wrong with him. It wasn't just the deaths of his family members; there was something else bothering him as well.

A flash of fire in midair made everyone start in surprise. A roll of parchment fell to the table, accompanied by a single phoenix feather. It was from Dumbledore. Mr. Weasley picked it up and began to read, his wife peering over his shoulder.

All right... Mr. Weasley sighed after a few moments. Dumbledore has agreed to let us go. He's going to place protective wards and charms around the house that will keep all of you safe until we return. He stuffed the parchment into his pocket and began struggling into his cloak. Mrs. Weasley took the Floo Powder down from the mantle, and went around the room, kissing her sons and their friends good-bye. Mr. Weasley seemed too dazed to do more than nod, but his children hugged and kissed him before he stepped into the fireplace with his suitcase and disappeared.

Be good, Mrs. Weasley whispered. We'll be back soon, stay safe... Another flash of green fire and she was gone as well.

There was a long silence after the Weasleys disappeared, broken only by the clinking of the dishes as they washed themselves in the background. Finally, George spoke, looking rather hard at his brother.

Well, Bill? How many family members do the Death Eaters have to kill before you decide to get your head out of your arse and do something about it?

No one answered. They really didn't need to.

To Be Continued....

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(A/N: Well, finally, I completed Chapter 12. After much groaning, grousing, complaining, whining, and dragging my feet, that is. I was totally unwilling to write this, since I considered this story to be utterly lame-o; but after Liz started waving hot branding irons under my nose, I hastened to the keyboard. Hopefully Chapter 13 will not take me six months to complete! I'm almost done, anyway. I'm planning on two more chapters, though I may end up with three. Can you believe this has taken me over a year to write? Well, if I weren't so lazy, it wouldn't take me so long.

If you're interested in updates on my ongoing stories, please visit my LiveJournal! I can't give out the address here, because for some reason takes out web addresses written in stories. However, if you go to my profile, there is a link in my bio, and it's listed as my homepage. I also try to put up fanart there too, so it's worth a peek, especially if you like reading my lame rants. Now, please stay awake a few moments longer so I can discuss one more thing: Gift Art!

In other words, pictures people draw for me, based on my stories. (Though they could just be something completely random you just felt like drawing for me.) Some writers don't like this - BUT I DO!! I love it when people draw things for me! No matter what you think of your talent or whatever, every drawing someone sends me is CHERISHED! I save them on the computer, print them out, and show them off proudly to my family and friends. Some I love so dearly that I print an extra copy and tack it up on the bulletin board in my room. So please! Send art my way! I would love you forever if you did! Please, never feel bad about what you've drawn. Never say stuff like, Oh, it's horrible, she'll hate it". I can promise you I won't, unless it's something gross like a VERY graphic drawing of Snape and... uh... Umbridge having sex! (Ewwwww! But who would draw THAT?) I especially love Sirius/Remus, but if you want to draw any of the HP characters, or maybe characters from Lord of the Rings, Pirates of the Caribbean, or an anime, I'll love it! I promise!)