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 13

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Cheer was hard to come by in the Weasley household in the next few days. Dully, Harry often wondered how much worse life could get for himself and the people he loved. He felt torn by his emotions - fury at Voldemort, heart-wrenching sorrow for the Weasleys, fear at what might happen next, and almost unbearable guilt. He was certain it was his fault all of this had happened; Voldemort was harming his friends and their families in an attempt to destroy him.

He sat motionless on the back porch, looking glumly out across the back garden, his chin resting on his knees as he hugged them to his chest. Night was falling, but Harry didn't care. He didn't really have an appetite for whatever Penelope was cooking.

"Harry?"

He looked around. It was Ginny, looking concerned. She sank down beside him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly.

"Liar," she said, with faint disgust in her voice. "You're upset."

"So what? Everyone is," Harry responded.

"I know that. But you're feeling guilty again, aren't you?" she looked closely at him. "You always blame yourself when something goes wrong."

"If it weren't for me, Voldemort wouldn't have come after your family," Harry said. "He's trying to destroy me, Ginny. And he tries by hurting people I care about." His scar prickled a little, and he rubbed uneasily at it. "But what's worse... I think Voldemort knows what George wants to do. I think... I think he was listening in on my thoughts the day Bill and George argued. I think he knows what we want to do, and he's... trying to lure us out, or something. Maybe he thinks killing others will make us.. reckless, less aware of what we're doing."

Ginny gaped at him, her brown eyes wide. Harry felt worse for scaring her, but couldn't think of anything to say that would comfort her. He took her hand and squeezed it without really knowing what he was doing.

"I can't decide who's right," she said finally, lowering her head. "Sometimes I think George is right - the Death Eaters need to pay for what they've done. But then I get scared of what might happen, and I think Bill is right, that we should stay home where it's safe and let the Ministry sort it out. But then I think the Ministry doesn't have the slightest clue, and I side with George again. I'm so... so confused, Harry. I just don't know who to believe!"

She burst into tears, pulling her hand out of Harry's grasp to cover her face. He reached out, meaning to hug her, but pulled back, not knowing what to do. She didn't look up at him; she just continued to cry as her tears fell to the grass, sparkling saffron-yellow in the glow of the setting sun. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Not for the first time, he wished Sirius and Remus hadn't left. He had a nagging feeling that they would be needed; and they were like his parents. He missed them.

-

Sirius was in the shower. He stood perfectly still, letting the water run down his neck, plastering his hair to his back. The only part of him which was moving was his hands, as he nervously twisted his father's ring around and around on his finger. He loathed the feel of it. It made him feel like he had actually accepted the ideals of his horrible family, and had finally taken up his place as the heir to the Black bloodline. He shivered at the thought, and reached out to turn the water temperature higher. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as the hot drops hit his face.

"What are we going to do?" he whispered. "Just what the hell are we going to do?"

He didn't get an answer. He hadn't been expecting one.

With a long sigh, he finally reached for the shampoo and began washing his hair. Remus thought the ring was dangerous; Sirius vividly remembered the night Remus had screamed himself awake from the depths of a nightmare, swearing that he couldn't even look at the thing. Since then, Sirius had noticed the look of revulsion in his lover's eyes whenever he saw the ring. But what were they going to do? Everything Dumbledore and Andromeda said made him believe the ring could be used for good purposes.

He rinsed the lather from his hair. On top of everything else, there was the ever-present feeling that he and Remus never should have left Britain in the first place. How could they have even agreed to it? After everything that had happened... Dumbledore should have allowed them to remain home. Something big was going to happen, and they had to be there.

After drying off and getting into his pajamas, Sirius switched off the light and climbed into bed. Remus was already sleeping deeply, and for a few minutes his mate simply watched him, reaching out to brush Remus' bangs out of his eyes. More than anything, he wanted to be sure Remus and Harry were safe.

-

Remus fought through the burning rosebushes, intent on catching up with Sirius. That awful, vampiric entity couldn't be the real Sirius... his mate must be hiding elsewhere.

The flames had left a charred path of destruction that was easy to follow. He emerged from the singed shrubs to see his lover standing with his back towards him. Remus swallowed hard. "Sirius?"

Sirius turned, and this time he was different. His eyes were sad, almost like deep wells of sorrow and despair. His clothes were pristine white, the bloodstains which had soiled them now gone. The ring was still on his finger, and as Remus watched, Sirius raised it to his lips and kissed it.

"Remus." Even his voice made him seem like he was drowning in a pool of misery. "Remus, I hate doing this. I hate putting my trust in my family. But love, if we can... stop Voldemort by using my family's power, it would be worth it. I want to keep you all safe. You, Harry... the Weasleys... Hermione... Andromeda and Tonks. If I can keep you all safe, I would be happy." Silvery tears trickled down his cheeks. "Please understand. It's my fault everyone is in trouble. I put them in this danger. I need to set it right."

"What -"

"Something is happening," Sirius continued in the same mournful voice. "There is trouble at home. If it should come to me using this ring to stop the terror, I wish you would forgive me."

"Siri -"

"Siri -"

Remus woke up, his lover's name still on his lips. Sirius was asleep beside him, one arm flung possessively across his chest. It was quite dark; the only thing Remus could make out in the moonlight shining through the thin curtains was the gleam of Sirius' ring. But somehow, he did not fear and hate it as much as he had. He closed his eyes.

"Something is happening..."

What was happening?

"There is trouble at home."

What kind of trouble?

-

Bill Weasley trudged slowly through the crowds thronging Diagon Alley. He was on his way to work, but his mind was a million miles away from the crowded Wizarding street. He was preoccupied thinking of his uncle, aunt, and cousins, killed by Voldemort's followers; and of his parents, who were going through so much grief. Why had their family been so suddenly targeted? Was it because of their connection to Harry? It seemed the most plausible reason, but Bill was damned if he'd blame his friend for it. It wasn't Harry's fault any of this happened. It was all on the whim of a twisted, evil man.

Bill sighed wearily. He hadn't been getting much sleep lately, and by the looks of things, neither had anyone else. Penelope no longer cooked with her same enthusiasm; George spent his time brooding and mumbling to himself; Charlie was unusually taciturn and moody. Nothing was the same anymore. Sometimes, Bill wondered how much worse things would become before they improved.

He stopped for a moment, leaning against the wall of Flourish and Blotts and lighting a cigarette. He closed his eyes. Life was so miserable lately. Nothing he could think of cheered him up. Nothing had gone right since Voldemort's return. Bill had known on his induction to the Order that the battle against the Dark Lord would be a long and painful one; but until now, he hadn't realised just how bad it would be.

It was nearly nine. He'd have to hurry to make it to Gringotts in time. He dropped his cigarette and scuffed it out.

Just then, he felt a hand on his throat. Another hand was holding onto his robes, and as he struggled, a wand tip was placed to his temple.

"Stupefy!" a voice hissed from behind him, and he knew no more.

-

The other Weasleys and their guests were at home. Harry was lying on his bed in Ron's room, trying to sleep. He hadn't gotten a wink of sleep the night before, and by now he was so tired he couldn't stand it. He rubbed at his stinging eyes. He just wanted to sleep... his eyelids drooped...

He was standing in a dark room. Before him was a dimly lit jail cell, and inside an unconscious man was handcuffed to the wall. Harry couldn't see his face, but he caught a glimpse of long red hair and a glitter of something gold. Something like part of an earring.

"Well, Mr. Weasley," Harry hissed as Bill began to stir, his voice high and cold. "It seems we meet at last. I've had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of several of your relatives, but none of them were as handsome as yourself, I'm afraid... Now, tell me... what is your plan? What do you and your little friends have planned for me?"

"I'm not going to tell you," Bill panted. "You won't get it out of me."

"Now, boy... don't be silly... don't make me use the Imperius Curse on you... if you go along and tell me what I need to know, I promise your death shall be quick and painless..."

"No!" Bill turned away.

"You've made a mistake, my lad..." Harry smiled with cruel humour. "But no matter. I can always get your friends here another way... Crucio!"

Bill screamed in pain, and Harry began to laugh. He jerked awake, so hard that he tumbled from the bed, landing with a painful thump. He lay still for a few seconds, gasping and trying to absorb what he had just seen. He felt rather ill. Finally, he struggled to his feet and grabbed for his glasses. He had to warn everyone. He thundered down the stairs and burst into the kitchen. The other Weasleys, Hermione, Penelope, and Fleur were there, and they jumped when he skidded to a stop, colliding painfully with the counter and sending a silver mixing bowl tumbling to the floor.

"Harry, what is it!" Hermione cried in fright.

"It's - Voldemort," Harry panted. "He's - he's got Bill!"

Fleur shrieked, the cup of coffee clenched in her hand dropping to the floor and shattering. Coffee splashed across the floor, and Charlie had to jump up to catch Fleur as she slumped over in a faint. The others stared at Harry, as if they couldn't comprehend what he was saying. Harry fought back the urge to shout at them. "Look, we have to do something! Bill is in danger, and there's no time to wait for help! Practically every member of the Order is abroad. We need to get to him now!"

George stood up quickly. "You're right, Harry. We can't sit on our arses doing nothing. We've left it up to the rest of the Order all this time, and they've done nothing. It's time we act!"

Hermione grasped Ron's arm. "You can't go! What if something happens?"

"News flash, Hermione! Something is going to happen! You-Know-Who's going to murder Bill if we don't hurry up!" George said impatiently.

"But - at - at least take the night to get ready!" Hermione cried. "You can't go off the way you are now - you're all exhausted, you can't possibly expect to battle the Death Eaters in that condition..."

"She's right," Percy said quietly. "We can't go running off half-cocked. We're all too tired. If we even try anything now, the Death Eaters can pick us off one by one. We need to rest, and prepare ourselves."

The logic in his argument was too valid to ignore. Even George could see the sense in it.

Penelope had succeeded in reviving Fleur and was gently dabbing at her forehead with a damp cloth. Hermione rose shakily to her feet and began to mop up the spilled coffee. She still didn't think going off was going to solve anything, but she was also beginning to see that they had very few choices left. With most of the Order away, and Bill in danger, their time was short. She bit her lip hard. Either way, she didn't want to go. She might lose her friends... she might lose Ron...

-

The Weasleys and their guests retired early that night. Ron, however, was pacing nervously in the living room, his mind on things. Bill was in serious trouble. After Fred's death, it hadn't seemed like life could get any worse, but it had. A lot worse. Voldemort seemed intent on picking off every member of the Weasley family he could in an attempt to get to Harry.

A floorboard creaked, and Ron whirled around. It was only Hermione, dressed in a long white nightgown with her hair tied up. She was standing in the doorway, shivering slightly as she watched him.

"Hey -" Ron moved towards her. "Hermione, it's late, you should be in bed..."

"I know," she said. "But I couldn't sleep. I knew you were down here. What's wrong?"

"Do you have to ask?"

"No, but -" she shivered again, and Ron unconsciously put an arm around her. "You can't go, Ron," she burst out. "You might die! You probably will die! And it will kill your parents! They've already lost so many people they care about! How can you keep hurting them like this?"

"Hermione, it's about revenge," Ron said. "He's killed half my family, I can't just sit around and let him and his Death Eaters get away with it!"

"Please, don't go," she begged, tears spilling down her cheeks. She clutched at his pajama shirt and wept. "Please, stay here with me! I love you, don't leave me!"

"Hermione -" Ron tried to speak, but she suddenly grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. Her kiss was wet and salty from her tears, sweet and loving and desperate at the same time.

"I love you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I kissed George. I know you saw us. But what could I do? I didn't know what to say to him. He was so upset over Fred... he... he told me how much he loved Fred. More than he should have. I felt so bad for him... I did the only thing I knew how. But I don't love him, Ron. I love you. I want you." She was pulling him along as she spoke, breathless, drawing him to the couch.

"Hermione, what -" Ron felt dazed.

"You can make love to me. Right now. I'll let you do anything you want, as long as you stay with me. Please." Her cheeks were shining with tears as she pulled him down on top of her. "Please, Ron."

He couldn't stop himself. His hands went to her hair of their own accord, pulling out the pins. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, undoing them clumsily before pushing the maroon fabric off his shoulders. He kissed her as he pushed up her nightgown. He was clumsy and inexperienced, but Hermione didn't care.

"I love you," she repeated softly, as he relaxed on top of her. "I really love you, Ron."

"I know." He sighed, his fingers running along her bare skin. "I know. I love you, too."

-

When Ron awoke early the next morning, he found himself on the couch, with Hermione sleeping peacefully on top of him. He looked around. The room was slowly lightening. Dawn was approaching, and he could hear people moving around upstairs. He carefully slid out from under Hermione, tucking the blanket firmly around her and bending to kiss her cheek before getting dressed. He hurried upstairs, only to bump into Charlie.

"Get dressed. We're leaving," Charlie whispered.

Ron nodded. He headed up to his room, where Harry was tying his shoes.

"Are you ready, mate?" Harry asked.

"No. But that doesn't matter, does it?" Ron withdrew clean clothes from his wardrobe and began to change.

"We aren't taking the girls, are we?"

"No. I don't think so." Ron felt guilty about taking advantage of Hermione and leaving her without a word; but he couldn't let Voldemort get away with killing his family any longer. It was time to put a stop to it.

After he finished dressing, he and Harry hurried downstairs to join George, Percy, and Charlie. Charlie looked pale, but his voice was firm. "I've put a charm on the house. As soon as we leave, it'll be activated. It'll put the girls to sleep for a while - long enough for us to get away." He took a deep breath. "I don't know what's going to happen to us out there, but we have to be strong. We can't let Mum and Dad down."

The other boys nodded, and followed him out of the house. Ron risked a glimpse back.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he whispered.

-

Sirius awoke with a jerk. Beside him, Remus stirred. "Love?"

Sirius jumped out of bed and began pulling on his jeans. "Sorry, Remmie. But I can't... I don't think we should stay here any longer. Something is seriously wrong at home. We need to get there as soon as we can."

Remus kicked off the blankets and sat up. He was relieved at finally being able to go home and see if everything was all right. He began dressing as well. "But Dumbledore..."

"Dumbledore can do whatever he wants to us afterwards. Right now, we need to get home and make sure Harry's okay. Even if it turns out we're being silly and paranoid, we need to do this." Sirius was packing at top speed, Summoning their belongings from around the room and stuffing them into their suitcases.

"How will we get there?" Remus asked.

"Floo Powder," Sirius grunted. "We'll get ourselves to that Wizarding pub down the street and use their fireplace. I know it's uncomfortable, but it's the fastest way."

"You're right." Remus hurried out of the room behind his lover. They thundered down the stairs, too harassed to keep quiet. The night clerk looked annoyed when they stirred him from a sound sleep to pay their bill.

"Can't I get my sleep?" he burst out, as they darted across the lobby. "What's your hurry?"

They ignored him, speeding through the revolving door and charging through the streets. There was barely anyone out at this early hour. The sun was just beginning to rise as they burst through the door of La Lumiere, the wizarding pub. The barkeep looked up, surprised.

"A bit early, my friends?" he asked in French.

"We're in a hurry," Remus replied rapidly. "May we use your Floo Powder?"

"Of course," the barkeep said, still surprised. He emerged from behind the counter and knelt on the hearth, prodding the ashes with his wand. They burst into flames, and the barkeep straightened up and took an urn of Floo Powder down from the mantle.

"Here. You look like you're in some trouble. I wish you luck."

"Thank you," Remus said, taking a pinch of the powder and passing the urn to Sirius. He threw the powder into the flames and struggled to fit his suitcases into the fireplace before crawling in after them. "The Burrow!"

He vanished. Sirius pushed his own luggage into the fireplace, and thrust the urn back into the barkeep's hands. "Merci," he offered, and ducked into the fireplace. "The Burrow!"

He shut his eyes and kept a firm grip on his cases as he whirled through the fireplaces. In no time, he was stumbling out of the Weasleys' fireplace, brushing soot from his robes. Remus was already there, looking deathly pale.

"They're gone, Sirius!"

"Gone!" Sirius raced up the stairs. The only people there were Penelope, Fleur, and Ginny, sound asleep. As he raced back downstairs to rejoin Remus, not bothering to wake the girls, Hermione emerged from the living room, yawning. She seemed strangely sleepy and clumsy; Sirius caught her as she stumbled over her own two feet. "Hermione, where are they?"

"Where... who?" She blinked up at him, slowly. He resisted the urge to shake her furiously.

"The boys! Where are they?"

She wobbled in his arms, leaning heavily against him. Remus looked scared. "Sirius... I think she's been drugged or bewitched. She's not right."

"But who did it?" Sirius asked.

His lover held out a scrap of parchment. "The boys did. They've run off. They're trying to take on... the Death Eaters. A-alone."

To Be Continued...

-

(A/N: Wow! Everything's getting updated. I'm in a creative fit lately, and I've been writing like mad. Besides updating this story, I've posted new chapters for "Treasure of Gryffindor" and "Glitter" (my original story), written several new Snippets, worked on 'Maid Service', and have started work on a new original story, "Divine Intervention", which I will post on FictionPress. Of course, you mustn't expect these surges of creativity very often. I just don't function that way. But hopefully, I can keep going for awhile longer.

I know, Ron was a jerk in this story. And I know a few of you will be mad that Hermione had sex with him in an attempt to keep him home. I know Hermione isn't a slut like that, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I'm sorry to all Hermione fans out there. Please forgive me!

We are fast approaching the climax of the story. Like I mentioned previously, the ending will be ambiguous and not quite happy, in an attempt to leave it open to books 6 and 7. Of course, as soon as Book 6 comes out in July, most of this story will go down the toilet, just like what happened to "The Marauders At Hogwarts" after OOTP was released. Forgive me. I'm no mind reader. And if I could read minds... SCARY. I'd be messing with people like Schuldich from 'Weiss Kreuz'.)