ginny728 - Thanks so much for your review. I feel extremely honored that you would even bother to think of putting my story on your bio. Thanks for your help and your words are very much appreciated. Hope you like the latest chapter.

Daisfunk - Harry's dead, pretty much. Deceased. Gone. At least for the time being, in any case (wink wink, nudge nudge). I'll reveal more about his burial and how he died later. I'm sorry if I implied that he survived anywhere, if I did, just tell me where and I'll fix it. Thanks a lot for your review. It is true that just in general, fanfiction tends not to be as serious as this fiction. I'm trying not to overdo it in any case, but it's a very bleak outcome indeed.

As usual, reviews are always appreciated. Thanks for reading.

"You just found her?"

"Yes," Ron repeated for the seventh time to Ginny. "We just found her. We were in an alleyway next to the building next to St. Mungo's, and we heard her crying and went to investigate."

"Do you know her name?"

"Anything about her?"

"Not really. She's a witch, obviously, as she has a wand. And she's probably underage as well, she didn't know how to Apparate."

"Where is she now?"

"Hospital Wing, getting some scratches and bruises treated. Then she'll be put through the mill."

"What?" Ginny asked, looking confused.

"Ginny," said Ron, laughing. His sister was more than capable, but still a little inexperienced, and altogether far too trusting for her own good. "You can't just take random witches off the street and trust them. We have to know if she's the real thing, and more important, who she is and how much she knows. And where her parents are." Ron sighed.

"Dead, you think?"

"It's very likely. Optimistically, they could've been out on vacation. But I think it much more likely that the situations were reversed, that the girl was out and the parents were killed, and she came back to find - you know -"

Ginny nodded sadly. "Yeah. But why didn't she go somewhere else?"

"Where else to go?" Ron shrugged. "She's a young girl. Friends are in all likelihood dead as well, and she can't really travel anywhere for any length of time. If she goes out of the building, she'll be killed by Death Eaters, or have her soul sucked by dementors. I'm actually surprised she was alive at all."

"Unless she's a spy."

"Unless she's a spy," Ron confirmed. "But I'll be able to find that out soon, since I'll be the one questioning her."

"You asked McGonagall?"

"Yeah, and she seemed to think it a good idea. She'll trust me and Chris the most anyway at the moment, but Chris is out already again on an assignment, so it'll have to be me. Besides, I'm curious about her myself, you know."

"Yeah, well, hopefully you'll find out more about her. Did you get the layout of St. Mungo's? Do you have a plan yet?"

"We've got the layout, even though we had to leave a little earlier due to the girl. I don't have a plan all worked out yet, but a few ideas."

"A decoy?"

"A part of it, yeah. But there's more, as just that would be too obvious. A decoy alone would just make them intensify security on St. Mungo's, as they don't really care if anything else is destroyed."

Ginny nodded. "Well, tell me when. I think Mum has conspired to stop me getting assignments in the past week or so, because all of my jobs are mysteriously re-allocated to other operatives all the time."

Ron laughed. "That's very likely. She did that to me before you were in as well."

"How did you stop her?" Ginny asked, looking slightly hopeful that her hiatus would soon be ended.

"You can't really sneak around Mom in the Order, she knows too many people. Your best bet is either a direct confrontation with her, and if that doesn't work, then go to Lupin or McGonagall. Lupin first, I would say. He's an understanding guy, he'll help you out, even though he's not the head."

"Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, interrupting Ron and Ginny's talks. "I think now would be the optimal time for you to interview her."

"Now? Doesn't she need more time for her injuries?"

McGonagall shook her head. "They looked worse than they were. Mostly superficial, not even a broken bone. She seems quite lucid. I think now would be good - she's in Room 212."

Ron nodded. "Alright, Director. I'll go see her now. See you, Gin."

"See you, Ron."

Ron pushed open the plain brown wood door of Room 212 and saw a nervous looking girl sitting on the bed there. Ron noticed that the girl looked dramatically different when she was awake. She was clearly a brunette, with light brown hair, and now that her hair was clean, Ron was able to tell that it was extremely curly, bouncing down to her shoulders. She was pale-skinned but was largely free of any blemishes. Huge, beautiful green eyes looked out from long eyelashes. Ron would estimate her to be around sixteen or fifteen. He couldn't help but notice that she was also very pretty. Her hands were placed together, folded, and her fingers drummed against her own hand as she looked nervously around. She had looked up and for an eerie moment had looked Ron directly in the eye, but quickly blushed after a moment and set her head down, determinedly avoiding his eyes, and mostly looking down at her lap.

"Hello," Ron said kindly, Conjuring a comfortable chair to sit in across from her.

"Hi," the girl said, almost inaudibly.

"What's your name?"

"Rebecca," the girl replied, still refusing to look in Ron's eyes. "Rebecca Cays."

"Rebecca," Ron said softly. "Come, look me in the eye."

The girl raised her head slowly, but obeyed, and eventually locked eyes with Ron, looking at him directly.

Ron grinned to defuse the situation.

"It's alright. No worries. Now, my name is Ron Weasley - but of course, you already know that."

The girl grinned, showing signs of becoming comfortable for the first time.

"Well, everybody does, don't they?"

"What?" Ron was genuinely surprised.

"Everybody knows your name, Mr. Weasley -"

"Just Ron -" said Ron quickly. It made him feel very old to be called Mr. Weasley.

"I mean, you're famous!"

"Famous?" Ron said, repeating the word in a half-hush, wondering for a moment, and, for a brief second, reliving childhood dreams of outshining all his brothers.

"Seriously?"

"Well, yeah." The girl seemed perplexed at Ron's confusion.

"Well, alright, then. How did you end up - where Chris and I found you?"

"Is the man alright?" Rebecca blurted out.

"What?" said Ron, lost.

"Is he alright? The man that came with you when you saved me."

"What, Chris?" said Ron. "He's fine, yeah. I mean - why wouldn't he be?"

"I was just wondering," said Rebecca shyly. "I mean, you two did save me."

"I would hardly call it saving you," said Ron quickly. "We just gave you the way out. Anyway, how did you get there?"

Ron regretted bringing the subject up, but knew he had to, and continued to stare directly at Rebecca, searching for any signs of lies. She looked down for a moment, and tears immediately watered her eyes, but she quickly brought them up again and looked bravely, and, Ron felt, almost defiantly.

"I was at my friend's house - the day He attacked. All of a sudden we heard this huge quake. I saw the building across the street topple down, heard horrible screams..." Rebecca's eyes shut for a moment, then opened again, a tear seeping out.

"It's alright...it'll be easier for you if you say it."

"So Jenny's Dad told us to get out with her sister, but then - they came."

"Who - dementors?" Ron guessed from the look of fear in her eyes, and was sorry to see Rebecca nod in confirmation.

"That's right. Dementors. They came and they - they -"

"Alright," said Ron, not wishing to hear about the Dementor's Kiss. "What did you do?"

"I tried to use a Patronus, but I had only really read about it, and I couldn't do a strong enough one, there were so many...so I ran and hid, and one followed me, but a man came and used a Patronus on it and saved me, but he got - he got -"

"Alright," said Ron, his expression becoming sombre and more ashen. He knew that everyone through London had gone through similar experiences, but it still horrified him to see a teenage girl recounting such terrifying memories.

"So I hid, and I didn't really know where I was, and then...you found me."

Ron was surprised there wasn't more to it. "Really? You didn't know you were right next to St. Mungo's, or that there were a lot of Death Eaters or Dementors?"

"I did. My friend's Dad was a doctor there, that's why we were so close. I knew they were all there too. That's why I couldn't leave. If I went out, they'd find me. I thought they'd still find me. I thought, when you two came, that they had come..."

Ron nodded, glad that the story was over. He stayed silent for a moment.

"Alright. That sounds good."

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Ron."

"Why are you doing this?"

Ron sighed. "I need to know whether or not you're a Death Eater, Rebecca."

"A Death Eater!" Rebecca's eyes were fiery for a moment, and she seemed insulted. Ron didn't apologize, though.

"Well, yes. You don't know where you are, do you?"

"I don't, know," said Rebecca, still looking a little angry, but holding back.

"I'll check a few more things, and then I'll answer all the questions you want. First - would you roll up your sleeves, please?"

Rebecca looked confused, but complied. Ron checked her skin. As he had figured, no sign of a Dark Mark marred the uniformly pale skin on her arms.

"What are you checking for?"

"The Dark Mark," said Ron, and Rebecca looked shocked. "Every Death Eater is branded with it. Alright, that's pretty much all the tests we can do on you for now. For curiosity's sake, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," Rebecca replied, looking unsettled as she rolled down her sleeves. "Seventeen in three weeks. Where am I?"

"You are at the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix?"

"The what?"

Ron smiled wryly. "We're an organization set up to fight Voldemort. We try all we can."

"Am I a member?"

Ron shook his head. "Not if you don't want to be. Besides, there are complications. You're still underage for instance."

"But I want to fight him!" Rebecca said, flaring up. "I'm of age in three weeks!"

"I'll see what I can do for you. No doubt you'll talk to McGonagall soon anyway. In the meantime, I suggest you get some rest, meet some people, have some fun. I'm around usually, just look for the tall guy with red hair. And if you can't find me, talk to Ginny, she's usually around. Looks like me, just shorter and prettier."

Rebecca laughed.

"Alright. Who's McGonagall?"

"Our head, ever since Dumbledore died."

"Did you know him?"

"Who?"

"Dumbledore?"

Ron was silent for a moment.

"Well enough, yeah."

"You were a prefect, right? I mean he picked you, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Ron said, surprised the girl would know such an obscure fact. "But everybody knew he just didn't want to add extra weight on to Harry."

Rebecca blushed for a moment, then looked down. "Alright."

Ron nodded. "See you around, Rebecca."

Ron was about to turn around and leave, but Rebecca's voice suddenly called him back.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Just call me Ron."

"Ron, then," said Rebecca, seeming somewhat unnerved at being on first-name terms with him. "Just call me Becky."

Ron smiled. "Alright. I'll see you later today, alright?"

"Alright."

And Ron, feeling a little happy for the first time in a while, left the room with a smile still on his face.