Chapter 78 ~ Want to Buy a Cookie?

"It is impossible to win the victory unless you dare to battle."

~ Richard M DeVos


ECOTS


One month later – August 30th, 1997

Thunder rumbled over a quiet street in Little Whinging, a breeze blowing past that bent the grass blades on the annoyingly sculpted lawns. Shrubs rustled, award-winning flower beds stirred, and trimmed trees shivered.

These Muggles that had nothing better to do than care for their lawns needed lives.

Overhead blue sky still shone in patchy spots between the dark gray-purple storm clouds that had been rolling in for the past three hours. Their looming threat reminded her of a predator lurking in the shadows, which really, was all kinds of comforting on about thirty different levels.

The air positively thrummed with raw energy, the static electric build up from the storm sending her flesh tingling, and Kalliandra Kaylens flexed her fingers unconsciously.

No one had seen nor heard from Harry Potter in a month.

A sodding month.

Kally had half a mind to hex him impotent as soon as he was back. Problem was she couldn't hex, so if electrocuting his nads didn't work, she'd just have to bat her eyes and kindly beg Dean or Fred to do it for her. She was pretty positive at least one if not both would oblige. She had it on good authority they were still scared of her from her, as Valentin had put it, 'throwing things' stage.

For now Kally stood on a stranger's doorstep, feeling inexplicably shaken, angry. The entire Order was in an uproar, with only McGonagall, Regulus, Remus and herself actually knowing where Harry had gone, at least….originally, and what they knew honestly didn't mean much now.

Harry was gone. As was Tonks. As was Mad Eye.

His absence had left her feeling sick.

It was rather annoying, actually. How the git could dominate her thoughts despite everything else going on. Plagues, death eaters, brewing the cure, undead zombies, horcruxes, Voldemort, the looming threat of her own mutation killing her, and that was all without mentioning her two idiot roommates she'd had for the past three months.

She was positive both of them had fairly accurate guesses about what had happened, but Fred and Jake had been smart enough not to voice them. Fred, despite his mother's prompting, hadn't even questioned her about Harry's whereabouts.

No.

Instead he'd taken to making semi-calm jests about her and Harry's prolonged sex game of kinky hide and seek.

Despite it all her lips twitched up just a smidgeon.

And then that ghost of a smile disappeared, the wind blowing her ponytail into her face like a whip. Wincing, she forcibly fought down the fear that she'd never see Potter again.

He'd promised her it'd feel like a single day, that he'd be back the next day on his birthday, and they'd talk then.

That had been nearly a month ago.

She hadn't heard from him since. The two-way mirror in her pocket had remained stonily silent, her calls into it unanswered, that horrible, terrible, wrenching knot inside her stomach growing exponentially worse as time wore on.

Wherever her boyfriend was, it wasn't near his mirror, and she could only think of a few hideous reasons for why he wasn't back on time. Literally.

One of those reasons loomed right in front of her, in the form of an unassuming house on Privet Drive. One directly across the street from his. One most probably brimming with Death Eaters.

It took everything, everything inside of her to resist looking back, over her shoulder at Number 4 Privet Drive.

It was where Harry should be.

Only he wasn't.

Fortunately the Death Eaters didn't know that.

Kalliandra's breathing grew momentarily tense, the non-witch steeling herself. The Dark Mark had been seen above a Muggle home on Wisteria Walk, two streets over. The home in question had belonged to a squib named Arabella Fig, who was in the Order. When the Order had investigated her body hadn't been found. There'd been two other bodies though, both Muggles, both dead, and both friends of Mrs. Fig and the Order.

McGonagall had called all oversea parties back, immediately, because Mrs. Fig apparently had been assigned to watch out for Harry, and had been discretely doing so since he was a sodding kid, and now…

Now they were both missing.

Given the Death Eaters penchant for trying to kill Harry at least yearly, it didn't seem too far of a leap to guess that they were staking out the Dursley's home, waiting for the Order to try to take Harry back to school, so that they could catch him out in the open and try to kill him.

Kally was somewhat pissed by this. Then again, she didn't exactly like attempts on her boyfriend's life. Unless they were from her, Hermione or Ginny; then they were probably justified.

Naturally the Order couldn't exactly allow murder attempt number 28 – Harry had counted - to go down, so Ginny and Kally were both going door-to-door on the surrounding streets, pretending be Muggles, pretending to sell cookies.

Kally stood on the top step, just another set of three small ones leading to yet another door on Privet Drive. Shifting uncomfortably on her feet she held her clipboard, tugging awkwardly at the red, UK neckerchief slung loosely around her neck. In the humid August air, the storm on the horizon, she wasn't sure what was worse: that the Girl Guides of the UK actually condoned neckerchiefs, or that the official uniform of a Girl Guiding Ranger involved a sodding collar.

Jake, disillusioned and standing alongside her, reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, tugging her hand away before she could inadvertently strangle herself. She rewarded his heroic efforts with an indignant, snake-like hiss.

Judging from the disembodied snort, he hadn't even tried to mask it. "Geeze, didn't know the Girl Scouts had a snake whisperer badge," he commented.

Unsurprisingly she thought of Harry's parsletongue. She closed her eyes, her lips barely moving, "Girl Guides. Not Scouts."

"Same difference."

Now Kally let out a small sort of growl.

A disembodied hand grabbed her by the arm and tugged her to the side, away from Jake by a sodding foot. "There, there Kally-kins," came the soothing whisper, "you heard what Big M said. No killing the Americans."

Kally lamented her inability to hex. "Fred," she hissed at the disillusioned twin, "when she said that she was talking to you."

Fred just flicked her ponytail, and had anyone from the street been watching they would have seen her long hair fly decidedly up. Kally swatted at him and missed. It probably looked like she was batting at thin air. Either that or a fly had seriously pissed her off.

Any watching Muggles would think she was bleeding insane.

"Missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me," Fred sing-songed in an overly exaggerated voice.

"And you wonder why none of the veelas wanted to snog you," Kally muttered through gritted teeth, lifting her hand and giving the closed door a firm rap. It was the twentieth such house they'd gone to that day, and given this one's positioning she sincerely hoped it would be the last.

Off to the side Jake quietly chuckled. "When Potter gets back he'll kill you for even joking about kissing his woman, Fredrick."

"Ah but brother Harry's gotta catch me first," Fred whispered. "And I've got it on good authority that while he's been locked up all summer I've been keeping myself rather fit and spry."

Kally closed her eyes and prayed for the storm to hurry its ass up. If it started down pouring there was at least a chance of getting struck by lightning. At this point she wasn't even too particular about who got hit. Her or them, either way it'd be quiet.

The three of them had been living together for far too long.

Three months too long.

Months.

The door swung open with a squeak, and the two invisible wizards flanking her fell instantly quiet. Thunder rumbled much closer, and Kally blinked at the Muggle woman now framed in the doorway. Honestly she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to avoid making any surprised sort of sound, because standing there, directly in front of her, wasn't another faceless Muggle.

No.

Standing there, directly in front of her, was Mrs. Fig.

Or at least a woman polyjuiced into looking just like Mrs. Fig.

Or a man polyjuiced, if one swung that way.

Kally mentally cursed Fred for steering her internal thoughts in these type of directions. Either way, the missing squib or the missing squib's look alike was in the wrong house, one conveniently located directly across from Harry's. A scent of baking cookies drifted out onto the porch, but the woman's face was twisted into a rather strained expression, an oven mitt hanging from one hand.

Kally hated when McGonagall was right.

Her fingers went almost white on her clipboard. "Good morning Misses…" with a breath Kally glanced down at her clipboard, attempting to match the address with the name registered to the house in the BT residential white pages she'd quite literally torn out, "Sanford."

Arabella Fig pursed her lips in a strange, overwrought type of way.

When McGonagall had proposed this insane plan, on the basis that she felt Death Eaters would find some way to watch Harry's house, Kally had added the BT page listings as an element of realism, on the off chance that the Death Eaters in question weren't dumb. If they were going to take over someone's house to watch Harry's, they might see that person's mail. And if they saw that person's mail, Kally figured she better be addressing whoever answered the door by the appropriate name.

This was, of course, assuming the Death Eaters in question were actually literate and capable of grasping Muggle post.

Either way, she doubted Death Eaters would be happy about a Muggle showing up at the door of a house they'd taken over. They'd been banking on the Death Eaters actually answering to avoid arousing suspicion in the neighborhood, and apparently they'd been right. It'd been part of why Kally had been meticulously going door-to-door all morning, just in case anyone from the snake-faced-bastard's team had been watching. Almost every other neighbor had answered the door, and she figured the Death Eaters – ignorant of Muggle customs and ways – would deduce that they had to open the door to maintain a low profile if they wanted to continue blending in.

So this intrusion would be an irritant, and annoyed people were distracted people. Their guard got lowered from the irritation, and distracted, annoyed people made mistakes.

Or some shit like that.

The elderly, stressed woman with the over mitt let out a lengthy sigh. "I apologize Miss…"

"Marie," Kally supplied with a disarming smile, scarily reminiscent of Fred's, "with Girl Guides of the UK."

Mrs. Fig frowned. "Marie," she said, eyes flickering to something inside the house, just beyond where Kally could see, "I don't mean to be dismissive, but as I'm rather afraid you've caught me in the middle of my baking. I don't want anything to burn so…"

Kally quickly stuck her foot out into the doorway, smiling brighter. "You're a baker!" she said, a bit of forced excitement injected into her voice. "So you obviously appreciate fine cookies."

The woman's mouth fell open, eyes darting down to where Kally's foot was blocking her from slamming the door closed. Clearly she wasn't sure what the etiquette was for dealing with a rude Girl Guides troop leader.

Kally smiled wider and pressed on, looking at her clipboard and rapidly leafing through a few pages as if she were actually looking at records. "It looks like you bought quite a few of our boxes last year, from Minny. Our prices are even better this year. I'd hate for you to miss out on the deals. I promise I can be quick so you can get back to your baking." She glanced up, meeting the elderly woman's ice blue eyes.

If this were a polyjuiced person she was surely about to get hexed, and Kally silently prayed that Fred and Jake were as good with their shield charms as they liked to brag.

Then again most of the bragging was Fred's. Jake had more of a tendency to quietly laugh before tripping hex you.

The aged face looked from the door she had a hold of to where Kally's foot was, a hint of desperation in her eyes. Kally's heart raced, aware that if this was actually Mrs. Fig, then the elderly woman was surely debating what to do under pressure, equally aware that a Death Eater surely lurked in the house with her.

For a second it looked like Figs was about to slam the door anyway, the integrity of Kally's foot be damned, the non-witch sucking in a quick breath and quickly pleading, "You remember Minny don't you? Green eyes, prone to wearing buns? She said you're one of her most trusted clients, Mrs. Sanford."

A stronger breeze blew by, rustling Kally's ponytail again and the elderly woman's rather disheveled looking hair. The scent of baking cookies was somehow blown out to them, and from alongside them Kally heard Fred's stomach give a loud, audible, very distinct rumble.

Kally hadn't realized how incredibly quickly every muscle in her body could tense, but at that second they all did.

Mrs. Fig's head shot up, her wide eyes meeting Kally's for a tense moment.

Then, a second later, her eyes darted subtly to the side, staring right at Fred, as if she could somehow see him.

Something less desperate flashed within her eyes. "Minny you say…." She practically whispered it, her white knuckled grip on the door loosening slightly.

Kally wanted to scream out loud, but didn't. They were there, on a front porch, Death Eaters near, and for the first time she really felt like an exposed, sitting duck. A killing curse could lance out at them from any direction and she'd be powerless to stop it.

But she couldn't say any of that aloud, so instead she swallowed and nodded quickly. "Yes." Mouth dry, she hastened, "She outsold me last year. Rather hoping to beat her record, to be honest. I was…I was hoping if I snagged you as a customer before anyone else, that I might just be able to do it."

Mrs. Fig's eyes shot to hers, and now, quite suddenly, they remained firmly fixed upon her own. They did not move. They did not waver. They did not glance towards where Fred and his troublesome stomach were at. They did not glance towards the inside of the house, where the old woman had been looking somewhat nervously before. Now they locked with Kally's, understanding and fear shining within.

It took her a long moment to respond, before finally…

"Well…" the woman hemmed, "Minny is such a sweet girl…" her fingers dropped away from the door, fidgeting with her baking glove, "though I suppose buying a box or two from you couldn't hurt so long as I buy from her as well." A pause, and her next words were injected with meaning. "Did you say she was coming by as well?"

Kally sucked in a breath, nodding. "Yes." Because McGonagall…

McGonagall was just down the street, backing up Ginny.

"Mmmm…" Mrs. 'Sanford' said, finally glancing back inside for a moment, as if worried about her baking. "I suppose I'll take a few from you then as well, if you're quick about it so I can get back to my morning."

Quickly she fumbled for her pen, snaring it out from her hair, where she'd pinned it within the confines of the band holding her hair up. "Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Sanford." Toying with the pen as if ready to write, Kally looked at her expectantly. "I just need to know…how many boxes would you like in your home this year?"

Mrs. Fig looked at her for a moment, as if confused.

Then Kally watched the woman's brow furrow, her lips repeating what she'd last said, as if really, really concentrating. …in your home….

Realization flashed through her eyes.

Wind swept past them again, the air gusting through the doorway, a stack of old mail on the entry table disturbed and sent scattering across the tile floor. Mrs. Fig did not even notice. "Three my dear," she practically whispered. "Three ought to satisfy my sweet tooth." The woman's tight lipped smile grew impossibly thin, no trace of mirth or humor or happiness within it. "Truth be told, Miss Marie, I rather do fancy stashing one in my bedroom," the woman's eyes flickered straight up, "just in case a little midnight craving strikes. Though I suppose I could keep another in the parlor for guests…or for if I'm too tired to walk all the way upstairs."

Instantly Kally felt Jake shifting alongside her, and with an icened realization she knew why.

Directly above where they now stood was a window, a second story window, that inevitably led to a bedroom.

And a Death Eater was surely within it, watching her, covering them from overhead.

Mrs. Fig was trying to tell them where the Death Eaters were.

Another had to be in the parlor where the woman had kept looking, and one must be just out of sight, hiding along the stairwell.

Her stomach leapt up unpleasantly, Kally forcing a too-bright smile onto her lips, tilting her head subtly to the side, playing with her ponytail as if that were the cause of her odd gesture.

Mrs. Fig, old as she was, got it. The squib straightened up, taking a slight step to the side as if tired and needing to lean on the door. "Well in that case dearie, please don't tell Minny about my treachery. Now, do I make the check out to the Girl Guides or to a specific branch?"

Alongside her the air shifted. Fred was moving, and Kally knew without seeing him that he was invariably rooting around in his pockets for some type of useful invention. Her voice conveniently rose, loud enough to mask any sound he made, the rumbling thunder providing a noisy backdrop. If anyone were listening that ought to be reason enough for why she spoke so loudly.

"I cannot believe I snagged you from Minny! But I promise, I won't tell her you're splitting things this year. Thank you, Mrs. Sanford," Kally gushed with false positivity. She paused, as if thinking before adding, "And you don't pay until delivery, actually. We have to make sure your order is right after all." Raising her pen as if unbelievably excited, she gave it three quick and highly visible clicks. "I've marked you down for three."

And with that three small pieces of paper emerged out of mid-air. They were visible for only a moment, looking like badly done origami ducks. The bills were slightly mutated, and the papers glowed a pale, dull green, as if the animals had spent too long in a pond filled with nuclear waste.

They looked exactly like something Fred would make.

They shot forward into the house, all three moving in different directions.

And then the front porch lit up.

Green flashed from above, like lightening. The Death Eater covering from the second floor window had clearly seen Fred's magic paper birds, the poorly done art pieces what had finally given them away.

And boy had it given them away.

The Death Eater had had plenty of time to stare directly down at the top of Kally's head, deciding whether or not she was a threat or some helpless Muggle. Unfortunately this meant that he'd had lots of time to get nice and relaxed and to make adjustments, so his aim was perfect.

And he'd thrown a killing curse.

Kally heard the words, and with a scream she ducked-

It never hit.

The light exploded above them, slamming into an invisible barrier with a thunderous BOOM and ricocheting out like veiny green spiderwebs. It was blinding. The force alone sent the entire house shaking, a shockwave of redirected energy blowing out in every direction and shattering windows, a streetlamp, a car window…

The shockwave's air burst around them so violently that Kally felt most of her hair ripped free from her ponytail, the strands of hair swirling and striking her in the face. From besides her Jake made a pained sound, like his throat was slowly being crushed while a knife was simultaneously driven into his left kidney.

It was the force of erecting and holding a shield charm that strong.

"Jake!" Panic daggered through her as she realized there was blood on the ground where he'd been standing. She had only a half second's time to register this, to realize that her vision was speckled with obscuring green and black dots because she hadn't looked away from the bright flash of light quick enough, before a force slammed into her from behind.

Kally was thrown bodily inside. She slammed into the floor right alongside Arabella Fig, the squib crying out. Kally heard herself cry out too, pure pain erupting in her knees and from the weight on her back, but on sheer instinct she shot out an arm, blindly grabbing at the squib's head and dragging the woman's face to the ground.

Mrs. Fig began screaming.

From atop her Fred cursed.

Inside the beige walls flared bloodily in the gray afternoon light, practically finishing the job and blinding Kally there and then. Fred fired off rapid fire stunners, rolling off her and giving the first of the Death Eaters little time to react to the sudden assault. That Death Eater was busy dealing with an innocent paper bird.

An innocent paper bird filled to the brim with sleeping powder. Kally's head darted up as soon as Fred was off her, hair in her face, the non-witch catching sight of that same bird ensconced in a floating bubble not unlike a bubble-head charm, the thing furiously pecking at the sides in an attempt to escape.

The Death Eater in the stairwell had apparently had a clear line of sight to the doorway, and had clearly seen the bird coming.

He'd had time to react.

Not so much now.

A red spell whizzed past overhead, sizzling on the end of her ponytail, Mrs. Figs screeching so loudly her ear drum practically exploded. Kally didn't even think, just grabbing at the leg of the entry table and pulling as hard as she could.

It teetered, then flipped over, slamming to the ground and sending more piled up mail scattering into the air. The improvised barricade took a hit almost instantly, cracking straight down the middle right in front of their faces.

Fred swore something that sounded suspiciously like Percy! and this time his hex crashed into the ceiling above the stairwell.

A chunk of it dropped out, striking the Death Eater solidly in the head. The piece of ceiling exploded in their hair into a hundred small, dusty pieces, and the wizard stood there for a brief moment, stunned, unreactive.

They swayed a half step.

Then another, their wand held awkwardly out, as if confused…

They collapsed, every muscle growing completely slack all at once.

Problem was Fred hadn't stopped hexing. His subsequent ones only served to pummel the already unconscious body on its way down, and down it came.

It came tumbling down the stairwell, slamming straight through the wooden bannister with a sickening crack.

The Death Eater fell the two meters from the stairs to the ground, slamming hard against the tile floor, the dull thud anticlimactic.

Everything stopped. The spellfire. The noise. It all just stopped.

There was a delay after that. Perhaps it was seven, maybe eight seconds. Then a slow, dark pool of blood began to ooze out from beneath the matted, drywall dusted hair. It spread out slowly. It spread out so slowly that as Kally lifted her head and stared at it, she felt like it was fake.

But it wasn't.

Two meters didn't seem a long way, but to a limp body unable to protect itself it was deadly.

The familiar stench of blood hit her, Kally hissing a breath and slowly shoving herself up. Her knees screamed and her field of vision remained speckled with green and black and red spots, but around all of that and her screaming, throbbing eardrums she could see enough.

In less than ten seconds the entry hall to the home had been decimated. Scorch marks marred the walls and floor. The bannister was destroyed. A chunk of the ceiling had been blasted out, and a piece of a stair was missing.

There were also a few post letters burning merrily in the corner.

The charmed, origami bird angrily flew around inside its bubble, unable to escape.

Mrs. Fig breathed laboriously besides her.

Other than that it was eerily quiet.

Footsteps sounded behind them, Kally whirling around on the tile with her wand drawn-

It was only Jake.

It took her a second to realize that Fred hadn't even reacted. He was now fully visible, kneeling on the ground, arms dropped to his sides. He said nothing, merely staring at the dead body. Part of his hair was singed off, his sleeve torn.

Jake didn't look much better. There were pieces of a shrub in his hair and a piece of wood appeared to be sticking out of his arm. Judging from the paint color it was part of the door, and even though he was freely dripping blood he was at least standing.

Not to mention his dragon-hide boots had somehow held up, remaining shiny despite it all.

Kally practically dropped her wand in relief. "You're okay." She wasn't sure if it was a question or not.

The American nodded, dragging a hand dazedly through his disheveled hair. "Yeah." His ring, a dragon crest emblazoned on it, glinted in the dull light as he surveyed the interior, taking stock of the situation.

The Death Eater that had been in the parlor lay slumped on the ground, the origami bird chittering happily and making a nest in the man's hair, but the suburban-looking-bastard appeared otherwise unharmed. The sleeping powder had obviously gotten to him before he could do anything about it.

He'd gotten off easier than the dead one in the corridor.

Mrs. Fig lifted her head up, dust flaking out of her silver hair, the squib whimpering as she spotted the fallen Death Eater.

It was a mark of how much death she'd seen that Kally didn't even react. There was blood oozing out not a meter and a half away from where she sat, that familiar nauseating stench in the air, and Merlin help her she didn't even react. She just looked from where Fred still knelt, back to Jake. "What about the one upstairs?"

"Slumped over in the window," the blonde replied. "He slid out of sight, but the bird must of got him."

Kally nodded quickly, gingerly getting to her feet. The moment she did her knees throbbed, shots of pain shooting out down to her toes and nearly buckling her. She only remained upright by hastily grabbing onto the wall. She might not be dead, but getting body slammed by Fred against hard tile hadn't exactly been a treat. Speaking of…

"Fred?" she asked, glancing towards Mrs. Fig and then back to him. "Fred are you-"

"Yeah," he beat her to it. "Yeah I'm-I just-" he paused, sounding strained as he took a deep breath, his large chest visibly rising. For a second he looked like he wanted to say more, only to clamp his jaw shut, looking deflated.

Then he jerked his eyes away from the Death Eater, refusing to look at any of them for a moment.

Kally didn't have to ask what the problem was. "You've never killed anyone before." Her words were flat, non-judgmental. They were a simple statement of fact.

Fred didn't even bother to nod. Instead a strange expression shadowed his face, and he set about standing up. He didn't say a word.

Oddly, Kally found Fred's silence more disturbing than the corpse.

Jake simply stood there, framed in the doorway, his light gaze now fixed on Fred. He looked thoughtful, watching as Fred walked over to the flaming pile of mail, the wizard spraying it with water from his wand in silence.

The steam hissed up, and Mrs. Fig stopped whimpering.

Jake still hadn't moved.

"Ya know Fred," Jake said, "you protected yourself and your own. Defended an innocent." The blonde tilted his head to indicate where Mrs. Fig sat, still looking a bit stunned. "Might be just me and my Yankee opinions, but no greater thing a man can do than that."

Fred glanced up, the two men locking eyes for a moment.

Then Jake nodded solemnly, his eyes shifting to her. He looked her over for a second, as if assessing whether or not she was actually okay, before nodding a second time. "I better go clean this up out here before the neighbors start asking questions," he relayed, and only then did Kally realize that it had started to drizzle outside. Large, fat drops of water were striking the concrete stoop, some of the water splashing inside. The entire stoop was blackened from spellfire, the killing curse lovely and explosive, the pavement splintered out in several directions from where one had clearly hit.

The killing curse was explosive...

Staring at it, something niggled at the back of her mind, the non-witch closing her eyes and shaking her head for a moment. Something…something she couldn't place was there, just out of reach. Something about explosions and killing curses, only she had no idea what. The phantom taste of dirt was in her mouth...

"The cookies are burning."

All three of them looked towards Mrs. Fig, and Kally mentally shook herself, the strange feeling dispelled.

The woman seemed to have gotten ahold of herself, looking sharp eyed and coherent despite her mussed hair and the loss of her oven mitt. "The cookies," she clarified, "are in the oven. I wasn't joking when I told you I was busy baking young lady."

Fred made a strange sort of sound. Jake actually chuckled. Kally just stared. "You were baking cookies for…Death Eaters?"

"They said they were hungry," she told, "and they were not exactly supervising me while I cooked for them. After all, what could a pathetic little squib such as myself hope to accomplish against the might of the Dark Lord's followers?" The elderly woman let out a dignified sniff. "I don't suppose they would have noticed a bit of Draino making it into the mix, do you?"

Now Kally outright sputtered. "You were going to poison them?"

"They should be so lucky that that was all I was going to do to them. You should see what they did to poor Mrs. Sanford. She was already dead when they brought me here."

Kally honestly didn't know how to respond to that. One moment Mrs. Fig had been startled and whimpering on the ground, and the very next she had sat up, speaking about cookies. It was as if the squib had decided that 'yes, she had been afraid, but she had had more than enough of that nonsense and was no longer going to be.'

The squib in question's aged eyes flickered towards the one with the crushed skull. "I suppose….I suppose one of you boys should move him," she said. "They have Meredith Sanford stored in the basement right now. She had a sizeable storage freezer so there may still be room…" She trailed off, as if lost in thought, before a faint, out-of-place smile touched her face. "She always did like to buy in bulk at the sales."

With that the elderly woman attempted to stand, and Fred, regaining a sense of himself, walked over and helped her, the old woman leaning heavily on him for a moment, offering him a thankful smile.

Then she hobbled off towards the kitchen, promising to deliver his hungry stomach some non-Draino laced cookies.

Kally and Fred were still staring after her as Jake walked out the front door, chuckling as he intercepted some of the Muggle neighbors, shutting the front door to shield the body from view. They could hear him explaining that he was Jake Sanford, a visiting great nephew, and that yes, lightning had struck the front of his great aunt's house. Wasn't it terrible? She'd just had the shrubs pruned.

Fred sank to the floor, stared at the body, and began to laugh.


ECOTS


About twenty minutes later Fred had recovered from his psychotic break.

Now he stared down at the limp body of the second Death Eater, scowling. "You unconscious pain in the ass," he snapped. "Do you have any idea how many bogus orders of cookies we had to take?"

The Death Eater did not answer. Judging from the unnecessary stunner Fred threw down, that must have offended him.

"Don't see what you're complaining about," Jake tossed over, the Death Eater from upstairs having been drug 'less than gently' down to the parlor. That one was now also flipped over, face down, and Jake was sitting on top of him. He had the Death Eater's arms twisted behind his back, and for all intents and purposes appeared to be hog tying him. "Everyone loves the Girl Scouts back home. They do this cookie stuff all the time."

"Yeah well here in England we don't train kids to be ruthless solicitors shaking down old ladies on their doorsteps."

"Ruthless?" Jake sounded torn between amused and bewildered. "More like giving them good ole fashion marketing skills. Thought you and your brother were businessmen?" He gave a rope a tug. "Marketing's a sought-after skill ya know."

Kally rubbed at her face for a second, rapidly developing a headache. "Did one of you just imply that I was a kid." She could have sworn that had been in there somewhere.

Both Fred and Jake stopped debating, instantly responding, "No!" simultaneously. Then they looked at each other, smirking.

Jake chuckled abruptly, jerking the Death Eater's bound wrists backwards, then tying them to the wizard's own feet. The end result was an unconscious Death Eater with a spine bent backwards, hands and feet tied together behind his back, the wizard looking rather like a reverse rocking horse for a kid to ride on. It looked like a wholly uncomfortable position for anyone, even a contortion artist.

Kally actually winced.

Jake slapped him on the rump as if he'd been a good pony.

Kally leaned back against one of the walls and closed her eyes for a second. She needed a second, just a second to take stock of the situation. Two dead bodies stuffed in a freezer, one prone-to-poisoning old woman offering them cookies, and two bound and gagged living Death Eaters. Their reinforcements that were supposed to have been tailing them as they'd walked from home-to-home selling cookies hadn't come inside yet, and Kally had no way of telling if they had ever been there at all. There was no way that a wizard would have mistaken what had happened on the front porch as a mere lightning strike though.

Everything was uncertain, and she hated it.

The blood had been scourgified away, and they'd cleaned up the evidence the best they could. The dead Death Eater's body had been taken downstairs and shoved into the oversized freezer, not at all gently and right on top of Mrs. Sanford.

Something about it had seemed almost disrespectful, placing a killer alongside their murder victim.

It wasn't like they'd had much choice.

Fred had suggested just leaving him, dead on the floor. Kally had softly pointed out that he'd begin to smell soon.

In the end there hadn't been enough room in the freezer, so they'd had to dig out more of the frozen food to fit both bodies. They'd tossed frozen peas and microwaveable meals and one French silk pie onto the basement floor. Fred had stared forlornly at the latter, declaring, "What a waste…." as if saddened by the fact that it was no longer edible, having been stuffed in a freezer with a dead woman.

They'd left the food to melt and go bad on the basement floor.

Jake, meanwhile, had gently ushered the concerned neighbors off, and Mrs. Fig had returned from the kitchen with a plate of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. Amidst it all the two Death Eaters hadn't awoke, and Kally quickly searched them for weapons.

Strangely there weren't any – only wands. Fred had made a scornful sound, calling them purists. Purebloods who believed in only one weapon, one tool ever being needed – their magic.

Purist or not Kally quite happily snapped them in half, and Jake had actually winced.

She'd nearly forgotten how taboo that was in wizarding circles.

Fred just snorted. "She does that," he told Jake, gesturing at her and the broken wand pieces, speaking as casually as if explaining how she took her morning toast. Then Fred shot her a mock disapproving, overly-serious look, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "That's still illegal you know. Tisk, tisk and all that disapproving stuff."

She shot him a withering look.

"Sheesh," he deadpanned, "try to help a gal not get arrested after schooling her on English law-"

"Technically," she muttered, "you schooled me on Irish law."

Fred waved a hand. "Illegal everywhere, cept in Australia. Those down under blokes aren't nearly so uptight…"

Jake quirked an eyebrow. "When exactly did you study up on international wand law?"

"Georgie and I, we made this 'fix a wand spell-o-tape for just such occasions – inspired by ickle Ronnie-kins snapping his wand, klutzy boy he was – only for the Ministry sorts to send us a politely worded letter about encouraging criminal activities. Apparently trying to fix your wand with things like spell-o-tape and the like is illegal given it 'recklessly endangers all parties'," he made air quotes, "so if we were to try to sell that kind of dangerous thing in the U.K. we'd be looking at at least a year or two in Azkaban-"

Jake guffawed.

"-followed by some community service on this friendly accromantula farm-"

Kally blinked.

"-but turns out the Aussies didn't have an issue, so we ship it down there! Great story that is though. Little brother almost got himself an underage Ministry violation his second year. Profs didn't turn him in. Don't know why…"

Kally was left with nothing to do but close her eyes and breathe slowly.

Fred just stood up from where he'd finished tying up his Death Eater, a big red bow conjured atop the unconscious man's head. He inspected his work for a moment, as if dissatisfied, then with a flip of his wand added sparkles to it.

Jake brushed it off with the ease of someone accustomed to Fred's 'flare', then turned his attention critically to her. "Not judging or anything, but be careful with that," he said, nodding at the wooden pieces littering the ground. "Wands….not all are gonna go quietly, if ya get my meaning?"

For a second she almost understood. There'd been a moment there, just a moment, where she swore she'd practically felt the wands trying to scream.

In the end she simply nodded.

Jake nodded back, as if satisfied.

Not a single one of them had touched the cookies, though Fred had started casting forlorn looks at them, as if fighting back the drool.

Eventually Mrs. Fig must have realized that. "For goodness sakes," she scolded, "I'm not trying to poison you." With those telling words she picked up a cookie and bit into it, chewed it, then sank limply onto the couch where she swallowed. Then the woman absently reached out with her free hand to pet a shag throw pillow as if it were some kind of pet dog.

Concerningly she made soft sounds, as if she actually thought it were a dog.

She was clearly not alright.

The three of them stared at her in abject silence, before Fred finally muttered something that sounded distinctly like Percy –his new favorite curse word - reaching out and snagging one, boldly stuffing the whole thing into his mouth and devouring it in one gulp.

Jake watched him carefully, as if waiting to see if he'd keel over and die or not.

Kally couldn't help but think that this was why women lived longer.

"Minerva sent you?"

Her head whipped back towards Mrs. Fig, finding the old woman studying them quietly, oblivious to the crumbs on her upper lip. Kally nodded, and all at once all the stress of everything began to press down. It was suffocating, like a claustrophobic helplessness she abhorred, and there was literally nothing she could do to stop it. It was like being strangled. It was like being hit with that crushing hex, the one that had slowly driven the air from her lungs, all over again.

The war. The plague. The dead.

Before she knew it she was grasping hastily at the neckerchief around her throat, tugging it off, because it felt like it was strangling her, because it needed to go away, but mostly because that was the only thing she could do.

It dangled from her hand, Kally taking deep, calming breaths and glaring at it as if had just personally attacked her.

Fred and Jake had noticed. The eyes of everyone in the room were on her, looking as if they weren't quite sure whether or not she was right in the head. Well….Jake and Fred looked at her like that. Mrs. Fig just took another bite of her cookie, politely asking, "You were saying about Minerva, dear?"

Stunned, Kally could have laughed. Merlin, she nearly did. "Yes," she said, deciding that repressing was definitely not overrated. In fact, given how worried she was over Potter and Dean and how the two gits had her stomach in positive knots, she should do more of it. "She got…she got concerned when you weren't at your house."

"Of course, of course," Mrs. Fig said, running her hand across the shag throw. "And Roland and Melonie? I trust they weren't too startled by my capture? Those men were frightly dreadful sorts. Showed up in the middle of afternoon tea to take me away, asking me all kinds of questions about poor little Harry. Not that there was much to tell. Poor boy's been locked up again by those dreadful relatives of his. They haven't let him see the light of day even once." She paused. "I do hope my cats are alright."

Kally shared a glance with Fred and Jake. Jake's face betrayed nothing, while Fred, to his credit, somehow had another cookie hanging out of his mouth like a dog with a biscuit.

Outside the storm whipped across Surrey, wind howling against the shutters and whistling against the screens. Rain pattered down loudly, dripping into the fireplace, every shade on the first floor drawn to prevent nosy neighbors from peering in. The resulting light pouring in was dim, gloomy, gray.

And Mrs. Fig wanted to know about her two dead friends, and her cats.

Kally didn't have a sodding clue about the woman's cats.

By silent agreement Kally took a deep breath and turned to Mrs. Fig, carefully approaching and sitting, before quietly explaining that Roland and Melonie hadn't made it.

She took it fairly well, all things considered.

The elderly woman nodded, blue eyes fixed to the wall, face oddly devoid of expression. "And my pets, dear?" she asked, her hand still running across the shag pillow.

It occurred to Kally only then that it must be a nervous habit. The woman was probably used to petting her cats for comfort, only they weren't there, because this wasn't her house.

A stab of pity shot through Kally, and once more she glanced towards Fred and Jake. The latter shrugged, but the former nodded, giving her a thumb's up, before miming meowing.

She really hoped that meant the animals were okay.

"They're alright," she said, eyeing Fred as if he were insane.

Mrs. Fig smiled vacantly. "Oh. That's good. I'll have to take Missy to the groomers when I get back, of course." She looked up at her. "She gets the most terrible knots. She's a long haired Persian, you see."

And then Mrs. Fig had looked around, actually looked around as if seeing the living room properly for the first time, her eyes falling to the blood stains still in the foyer and the two Death Eaters they were keeping alive. "You know my dear," she said, placing a hand on Kally's arm, "I think I will go and have that lay down after all." Releasing her hold, she added, almost to herself, "I rather think I won't want to see what comes next, and I've never enjoyed having to be obliviated…"

The squib stood shakily up, taking a second cookie and looking at it as if debating the caloric content versus taste, then moved away towards the hall, movements almost mechanical. She paused for only a moment, only to warn, "Dears…don't eat the chocolate chip ones in the kitchen. I imagine none of you will have time for a Saint Mungo's trip this afternoon, and I'm not sure even those wizards could fix the inflammatory bowel or holes the corrosives would eat in your intestines…"

Her warning drifted behind her as she again moved, going to the stairs, leaving Kally, Jake and Fred to simply look at one another.

By another unspoken agreement, none of them spoke until the floorboards above their heads began to creak, indicating she had made it to the second floor.

"If that's what happens to old women," Fred said, staring at the ceiling suspiciously, "remind me to never piss off my mum again."

Jake too stared at the ceiling suspiciously. "I feel like you Brits inspire your women to all new levels of violence."

Kally shot them both a glare.

"What?" Jake asked. "Can't possibly think you're an exception to that? I've seen Potter's work."

At that Fred actually snorted.

She just closed her eyes and muttered something about patience, before asking how it could be taking the other Order members this long to arrive. They should have been there by now.

All banter vanished. Fred had his wand out quicker than she had known he could move, his sleeve already rolled up. Kally didn't have to ask what he was doing. She didn't have to see it, because one was on her too.

She turned away, staring at the closed shades, listening to the pattering rain.

A lot had changed in the past month.

As Fred did the spell a soft, fiery glow lit the room, Kally's golden eyes glanced down to her own arm. Against her pale skin, invisible, was the tattoo of the phoenix. Months ago Dean had drawn the image, and now it grew warm against the underside of her forearm as Fred spoke aloud.

Every time someone sent a message it would warm.

Every time it made her think of Dean. Dean, who had scrawled the mark of the phoenix on the back of a napkin while sitting on a hospital wing gurney. Dean, who could draw. Dean, who often had no clue how sodding talented he actually was at pretty much everything. Dean, who was her best sodding friend and whom she was terrified for.

They'd been separated since all this had started at the beginning of summer. She hadn't seen him since early June. Right now he was allegedly somewhere in Germany, with Snape, but she knew what that actually meant.

They were both spies for the Death Eaters, spies for the Order, and evey time an owl was delayed she got more and more afraid.

But she at least had heard from him occassionally, which was more than she could say for Harry for the past month, and that…

That terrified her.

Kally shoved him to the back of her mind. Her skin warmed, and as Fred spoke she knew that his words would appear on the tattoo, scrawling in cursive eerily similar to Hermione's handwriting, as if a quill were flying and engraving golden ink across the phoenix's crimson wings. It was part message charm, part protean charm, and quite cleverly all Order members would receive any message sent out, but the messages – and the tattoos – would always, always remain invisible until the Order member in question used a spell to reveal it.

It was a way to communicate with one another.

It was a way to keep communications secret.

If Kally were able to incant, she'd be able to reveal the messages too. But she couldn't incant. She wasn't a witch. So she stood there, wisps of hair hanging in front of her face, having broken free from her ponytail, while her arm grew warm.

Her having the mark was more a formality, one she couldn't even use right.

They had thought of her. A spell had been charmed into the ink itself on her own, but that type of spell would only last for so long. If in duress she could, theoretically, place her palm against it and speak the words she wanted to send.

But Hermione, McGonagall, Professor Flitwick….they'd all warned her that it would wear out eventually, and to never, ever use it unless she absolutely had to. They had a feeling it might be a 'one and done' type of spell.

So in theory Kally could send a message, maybe once, maybe twice, if she did it within the next year or so, but she would never, ever be able to read the ones coming to her.

Her, Jake and Fred had come back to England two days ago, and they'd gotten their tattoos then. Luna, Hermione and Flitwick had figured the magic out.

Now Fred used his own, making a fist and sending the muscles in his forearm straining as the magic rippled across his skin. He sent a message, letting the Order know yet again that they were waiting for reinforcements. He'd already told the Order they'd found where the Death Eaters had been hiding out to stalk Harry's house this summer, yet there'd been no response. Absolutely none.

Kally half wondered if the things even worked right.

Fred finished the spell, shaking his head in annoyance. "You'd think given the number of times ole Voldy's tried to kill him, they'd be a bit more on top of staking out Harry's house with us."

Harry's house.

Before she was even aware of what she was doing she'd walked to the window, Kally lifting a slender hand, tugging the blinds apart by a few centimeters to peer out. Past the rain spattered glass she saw the Dursley's house, where Harry still technically lived, and seeing it…it didn't give her any type of comfort. Not even a little.

It was where he'd grown up. That place and the horrible people inside were part of what had made Harry Harry. And she knew almost nothing about it.

Harry was no longer there anyway.

Golden eyes flickering across the carefully landscaped lawn, the meticulous paint job, her eyes eventually fell upon one of the upper floor windows.

Remnants of bars could be seen, looking rather out of place on the otherwise perfect house front.

Bars like that were the kind shopkeeps used in bad neighborhoods, where break ins were rampant.

Bars like that were used in detention centers.

And bars like that were used to cage wild animals.

Her stomach felt suddenly hollow. She didn't have to ask whose room that was. They'd locked Harry inside his room like a criminal, his room a cage. She knew this without even asking. Every year Voldemort had tried to kill Harry. Every year something terrible had happened to him. And every year Harry had had to come home to that.

Deep inside she felt something grow cold, threatening to snap.

"We better get started."

Kally jerked her hand back from the blinds as if she'd been scalded, the cheap plastic snapping back into place with a clack.

Fred took one look at her face and actually managed a weak grin. "Saw the prison bars, didn't ya?"

It was a mark of the kind of life she was having that she didn't react at first. When she did she was scarcely aware that she had. She simply heard a sound, one more akin to a rabid animal than an actual person.

She was pretty certain the rabid creature was actually her.

Fred, the git, chuckled at her. "Easy there hellion, no need to go carnivorous. Don't you worry your pretty little head about a thing. Georgie and I took care of that ages ago."

Ages.

Yet another sodding thing she didn't know about.

With nothing else to do she silently inclined an eyebrow, waiting.

For some reason this made Fred grin more. "Okay, okay," he held up his hands in mock resignation. "You got me. I suppose Ron does deserve some of the credit."

Her eyebrow only inclined higher. Even Jake turned his head curiously.

Fred obliged. "Well first," he said, rolling his sleeve back down, "we stole dad's flying car and tied some rope to the bumper. Guess where the other end went?"

Kally stared at him. Just stared. It took her a full three seconds to process the word's flying car, and judging from Fred's expression he was enjoying this. "Flying," she repeated slowly, "car?"

"Poor listener there Kally. Already told you we tied one end to the car. Can't tie both ends to the same thing." He tisked at her alleged poor listening skills, as if the idea of her being shocked a car could fly would never occur to him. "I asked where do you think the other one went?"

"I'm guessing the window," she remarked dryly.

"Right you are!" Fred dropped unceremoniously into an armchair, throwing his feet up onto the Death Eater, using him as a stool. "After that let's just say we sort of 'drove off' with them. Sprung him loose. He and ickle Ronnie-kins had all kinds of fun after that."

It took Kally a moment to process that. "You had to stage a prison break," she said slowly, carefully, "to get Harry out of that house," her fingers opened and closed, "because his relatives put bars on his window?"

Fred didn't bat an eye, as if everything she'd just said was completely and entirely normal. "Exactly."

"And you're talking about this," she clarified, "as if it's normal."

"With that lot? Course it is."

Something on her fingers actually sparked.

"Think of it this way," Fred placated, "at least he had a room then. Big step up from the cupboard."

Her head whipped back around to him, staring. "Cupboard?" This time the electric sparks from her fingertips actually ignited the carpet, Jake quickly snubbing it out with the toe of his boot.

Fred's weak grin turned slightly gleeful. "Oh I can't wait till she meets his family."

Jake scoffed, aiming his wand at the smoke detector and blowing it up. "And you Brits think Americans are uncouth."

Fred and Kally both turned to look at him.

"What?" he defended. "Least in my country people don't barricade their kids into their rooms. We just ground them."

"Technically Harry isn't their kid," Fred pointed out.

"So why's he not living with someone less committable?" He hooked a thumb in the general direction of the house. "You all do realize that's a fire hazard, right? Tell me you Brits have Child Social Services?"

Kally growled a little.

One of the Death Eaters stirred, groaning.

And that was all it took to remind them that they had other things to do.

Fortunately she had a month's of pent up anger to get out.

It didn't take Kally long to find where her satchel had wound up amidst the 'doorstep murder attempt'. Somewhere between the first unforgiveable and the last stunning hex it'd slid under the remnants of the potted vicus tree in the foyer, and with the exception of a bit of dirt on it, it was fine. Fred had tossed an expandability charm on the satchel, and before they'd left the monastery they'd stuffed the many potions they'd need – some experimental, some not – liberally inside. She rooted around inside, searching, the veritaserum found surprisingly quickly.

What was also surprising was the fact that nothing was broke. The unbreakable charms on the vials had kept them remarkably intact. Glass was intact. After being thrown around. Kally wasn't sure she'd ever get used to that, no matter how long she stayed in the wizarding world.

She unearthed the veritaserum and held it up, giving it a pointed waggle in their directions. Jake and Fred both nodded, the two wizards having been busy casting silencing and muffling charms throughout the house. It hadn't been hard to make it nearly soundproof.

Reviving the Death Eaters wasn't hard either; Jake simply kicked one.

The wizard actually seemed to enjoy levitating the hog tied abductor of old women. He even went so far as to transfigure a throw pillow into a cowboy hat, shoving it over the Death Eater's head and tilting the brim down into their eyes so they couldn't quite see. Then, as if unsatisfied with the final product, he pointed his wand at the Death Eater's mouth and transfigured a gold tooth.

Fred snorted. "Nice touch."

The corner of Jake's mouth twitched up just a bit. "Either that or a black eye."

Kally just held the potion's vial out to Jake, pointedly waiting. He sniffed in amusement, muttering, "Finite," at it, removing any and all 'unbreakable' protections from it.

Kally gave him a sweet smile, then she shoved the veritaserum into the man's mouth, and she did it just a bit violently. The glass might have chipped on the bastard's brand new golden tooth, slicing into his gumline, and that…

That definitely woke the Death Eater up.

"You BITCH!" he snarled, spitting blood and glass out.

It got on her shoes.

She didn't care. She just stared coldly at him while Jake kept him levitated. The Death Eater snarled, twisting his lips back, the rest of his teeth oddly perfect.

You know, minus the fact that several were now chipped.

Fred spelled a bit of wizarding duct tape over the other one's eyes and mouth in case they woke up, then flicked his wand at her shoes to scourgify them. "This one's not very polite, is he?" He lifted his wand to eye level, pointed it directly at the Death Eater's head and peering down the shaft as if seriously contemplating hexing. "You know it's not polite to spit at a lady, cloakie."

Despite everything Kally's lips almost twitched. "Cloakie?"

"Cloakie," Fred affirmed, "on account of the Death Eater's uncreative wardrobe choices."

"Oh god…he's still giving fashion advice," Jake moaned.

"Stop wearing attention-attracting hats and I'll stop mocking you for them."

"Hey, I'm not wearing one," Jake protested, tilting his head at the Death Eater in the cowboy hat, "he is."

"Uh huh," Fred snorted, "and who wore that abomination all through France?"

"What? The ladies liked it."

"Beauxbatons ladies were addled. I didn't even get snogged once."

Kally's head gave a dull throb, and she shot them both an annoyed look, gesturing at the oddly quiet Death Eater floating before her.

Fred had the good grace to look chastised, before flopping back into the armchair with less exuberance than usual. "How long's that stuff take to kick in again?" he asked.

"About two minutes," Jake answered, "give or take. Occlumency masters can resist it, but I'm doubting these geniuses are particularly skilled." He kept his arm and wand raised, eyes narrowed beneath his blonde fringe, once again all business.

Kally's stomach was in knots. Two minutes was two minutes too long, and she was sick of waiting to find out what was going on.

Not to mention she was worried, anxious….

But most of all she was scared. She was scared that Harry was missing. She was scared that the house across the street no longer had him in it. She was scared that this moral-lacking Death Eater might know something about it. She was scared that no one in the Order knew what was going on, to the point that they'd actually been called back to England. She was scared she'd never see her boyfriend again.

She was scared that the other side would do literally anything to win, while the right side of this fight withered away trying to do things nicely.

It was why she was here, after all. Same with Jake. Same with Fred.

They'd talked about this. They'd talked about what interrogating a Death Eater might entail. Merlin they had. But talking about it and finding herself finally standing there, in front of a living, breathing human being was something entirely different.

But Fred, Jake and herself had known what they were signing on for when they'd agreed to take point on this.

She clutched the now emptied glass vial so hard it actually broke, shards tinkling down to the floor. The warm rush welled up within her fist and the pain sent her hissing.

Harry was gone, he hadn't come back, and this Death Eater had been watching his house for Merlin knew how long.

Kally's fingers curled tighter around the shard. The deep cut and lancing pain drove anything and everything she was scared of from her mind fairly effectively. Strangely enough, standing there in the dead woman's living room, evil incarnate levitated before her, she somehow felt a wisp of memory within her mind. Hogsmeade.

There'd been glass shards. Several, actually. Potter had saved her life from that chest crushing hex, right after he'd sliced open a Death Eater with a shard from a glass bottle she'd given him.

It was the first day they'd worked cooperatively at anything.

For some reason she almost managed a smile. Almost.

Wiggling her fingers to get rid of the tinier, glitter-like shards, she kept a firm hold of one of the larger ones. Blood welled up, sliding down her palm, trickling down her fingers until finally dripping to the floor.

It hurt. She sucked in a breath between her teeth, feeling every nerve in her palm lighting up and sending shots of pain through her wrist, up her forearm. But she couldn't, wouldn't sodding care. So she leaned forward, close to the Death Eater's face, and quietly she lifted the bloodied shard, pushing the brim of the cowboy hat up so she could finally see his eyes.

Those eyes swam with madness, promising a thousand brutally torturous things that he'd like to do to her if he ever got loose. But he wasn't loose. He was hog tied, American-style, and suspended up in the air like a disposable target for wand blasting practice.

With a slow, calming breath she willed her voice to not shake, and when she spoke it was in practically a whisper.

"Who are you?"

It was probably best to start simply. Veritaserum took a little while to take full effect, and those under its effects would answer simpler, basic questions with ease. She didn't know who this person was, and she doubted his name was a secret he kept, so this…this was a good question to start with.

At least according to Snape's books.

Not to mention she didn't know how smart any of them actually were. They'd let her have a nice little prolonged chat with Mrs. Fig after all, stupidly believing she was actually a Muggle troop leader selling cookies, so that didn't speak to their sparkling intellects.

The Girl Guides of the UK didn't even sell cookies.

"Go," the Death Eater hissed, "to hell."

Then he spat in her face.

Kally barely closed her eyes in time, a repulsed, revolted feeling instantly encouraging her to claw at her skin. She wanted to. She wanted to scream in frustration, actually. But she didn't. She just tried to not look weak and simply grabbed at the neckerchief that had once been tied to her neck, using it to wipe off the man's spittle.

Jake was less subtle. He 'accidentally' levitated the man directly into the ceiling, slamming his head hard enough to make plaster rain loosely down, the wizard groaning in pain.

"Whoops. Wand must have slipped."

He wasn't fooling anyone.

"Spit at her again," Fred remarked darkly, "and I'm going to conveniently forget that were supposed to be the good guys." That said, he glanced at her, studying her a bit worriedly. "Guess that answers the question about whether or not the potions working yet. You alright?"

Despite everything she felt herself nodding. The concern in Fred's voice…

Harry might be missing, but she still had friends.

She hadn't had friends, not beyond Dean and Harry, in a very long time.

A little warmth flooded her, a weak smile pulling at her lips, and Fred widened his eyes in such a way that she just knew he was questioning her mental health. So she nodded, and as the Death Eater was lowered back down in front of her she turned her full attention back to him. It was weird, looking at him. He was floating horizontally, his stomach facing the floor and upper body bent up to force his face up. His arms were twisted behind his back and tied to his legs, which were also tugged behind his back. He looked like a tightly strong bow.

Or a sadistic sort of humanized rocking horse.

Fred was right. The veritaserum hadn't kicked in yet. Even when it did, the bastard didn't have to answer her. If he could keep his mouth shut, he'd keep his secrets. All veritaserum did do was force someone to tell the truth whenever they were actually talking.

The key was to get him to actually talk.

Unease now flooded her, replacing the warmth.

Her hand shot out, Kally grabbing a firm hold of his right ear, and without a word she sliced the top clean off.

The Death Eater thrashed like a freshly hooked fish, Kally jerking her hands back as he tried to bite at her. She felt revolted, unconsciously wiping her hands on her skirt, doing anything to get the blood off. She cast Jake a shaken look. "Should have worn gloves…"

From the armchair Fred let out a distinct snort.

The Death Eater didn't hear either of them. He howled for a second that wasn't a second. It was the kind of raw, pained sound that dug deep into a person's core. It was human to react to another's pain, and Kally felt a twisted, upset feeling digging all the way down to her very marrow. It reacted with her on a primitive level, and she wasn't sure if she was happy or not when the Death Eater finally got control of himself, the howling drowning out to low moans, his breathing heavy and erratic. It remained that way for at least a minute, maybe more. Blood covered the side of his head, oozing out from the wound in bloodied chunks, the wizard catching her eyes with a look of sure hate that she felt honestly afraid.

He screamed in her face.

She simply stood there, unflinching – but only just. She watched the blood drip down onto the carpet, staining it a bright, crimson red.

The carpeting had been white, and Kally couldn't help but think that it was a horrible, horrible color.

She had to forcibly imagine her feet cemented to the floor to keep herself from running. She didn't look at him. She refused, her gaze only flickering back up as he began to call her a mudblood.

She still didn't understand why that moniker was supposed to actually mean anything.

She shook her head, strands of hair falling in front of her face, having broken free of her ponytail. "Would have to be a witch to be elevated to that status," she said softly. To wizards she was worse than a Muggleborn witch. She was practically a squib.

"You cut off," he snarled, "my ear!"

Kally felt cold everywhere at once, but she shook her head, words carefully controlled. "You weren't listening very well with that ear," she said, tone surprisingly cool, "so….we can try this again with the other." Tilting her head she forced a small smile as she looked at his remaining intact one, and then she took the glass shard and ran it sweetly over it, as if fond of it. "Who are you?" she asked calmly, quietly. "How long have you been watching Harry? Why are you here?"

Everything about the way she spoke was soft, innocent.

In truth she felt so detached that she might as well have been unhinged. Maybe she was.

Months ago, in one of their random dungeon conversations, Regulus had told her if you were going to interrogate someone by force, with pain, then you had to act like you enjoyed it.

Maybe she did.

All she knew was that if someone was trained in Occlumency then they could resist veritaserum. Even if they weren't, they could be cagey enough with their answers. Those people...they'd need additional persuasion, because all veritaserum actually did was make the person tell the truth. It didn't force them to physically open their mouths and talk.

All of this ran through Kally's mind again and again, a silent, slow mantra justifying her, their¸ actions.

They had already decided…they weren't taking any chances.

Standing there, directly before him, Kally watched as the Death Eater's eyes went a bit glossy. Her eyes instantly narrowed, words soft, "I think it just kicked in," she whispered.

The unnamed man's teeth clenched, the wizard sneering but keeping his mouth firmly closed. So she tilted the glass shard against his remaining intact ear, letting it cut just a little.

His mouth flew open, seeming to speak against his will. "Callum Taylor," he snarled. "We've been here for two months and we haven't seen anything other than those filthy Muggles you pathetic fools try to protect-"

Well, at least he wasn't particularly good at resisting the potion's effects.

Kally didn't let him go farther down that line of prejudice propaganda. No. She simply pressed the glass up harder against the side of his head. "Not what I asked Callum," she said, feeling shaken. She glanced at Jake to see if he'd ever heard of the man. A swift shake of his head told her no, he hadn't. She glanced back at Fred and saw him watching her with a peculiar look on his face, but he clenched his jaw, shaking his head in the negative as well.

She turned her attention back to the Death Eater. For a moment she looked at him, just looked, trying to think. Trying to memorize and consider every little bit of him that she could see, as if some clue would be magically revealed if she only looked long enough. As if she'd suddenly understand who and what he was, and why he was yet another one of Voldemort's followers hellbent on trying to destroy the world.

Didn't they understand that they weren't just going to get the Muggles killed? They were going to get them all killed. Their plague had mutated. People were dying, then getting right back up and going after the still living, breathing humans. It'd happened in Ireland. It was happening in Wales and isolated pockets in England. It'd happened to her own hometown. It had happened in New York and parts of the United State's Eastern seaboard, and parts of sodding Europe.

It was getting out of hand.

It was out of hand.

So Kally studied him, trying to see what could make him like this, and she failed.

Nothing hopped out at her. Absolutely nothing. He was just a prematurely aged wizard that she didn't recognize, his hair dark and shaggy, the wizard looking like years of hard living had destroyed his youth, leaving his skin sunken and hollow and spotted. The only youthful thing about him was his pristine white teeth, and now the front one was chipped from the glass vial, the rest covered in blood from his bleeding mouth.

Kally bit down on her lip, pensive. When she spoke her voice was unbearably quiet. "How old are you…?"

The dark eyes shot up, the wizard scowling. "Thirty eight."

He was barely older than Regulus.

The realization struck her like a slap across the face. He was barely older than Regulus. Regulus was in his thirties. He wasn't that old. He was young even by Muggle standards. And by wizarding…

By wizarding standards, where it was not uncommon for people to live into their early hundreds, he was definitely young.

Yet so many people in the resistance had died. So many had died so young that Black was thought of as old. Black even looked old, as if years of war and hiding had destroyed any traces of the youth he'd never had.

Like this man.

Kally's left hand shook ever-so-slightly, a nervous hangover from all the years when she'd had actual nerve damage. "When did you join the Death Eaters?"

"Six months," the man bit. "I joined our Lord's cause six months ago."

She tilted her head towards the other Death Eater. "And him?"

"Quinn Bradley. He joined at the same time as I did." The wizard sneered, jerking his head as if he were suffering a seizure, clearly trying to shake himself out of responding. "We went to school together."

"Lovely, that," she said. "What about the other one?"

"Ryan Mills. He was only twenty two you insufferable bitc-"

That was as far as he got before Jake 'accidentally' suffered another one of those inconvenient arm spasms that sent his prisoner's head bashing into the ceiling. Again. Kally sent him a curious look, before turning her attention back to the barely conscious, somewhat dazed wizard that had once again been lowered to hover directly in front of her face.

Out of the three of them she wondered how she'd been volunteered as the one with the proper stomach for this. Jake seemed like he was doing just fine.

But when she spoke her question was cool, collected. If she were honest…it scared her.

"What were the three of you doing here, Callum?"

This time he didn't answer. He clenched his teeth, blood beginning to come out of his mouth as he clamped down on his own tongue, clearly attempting to bite it off.

Kally hissed and her hand shot out, taking off the lower lobe of his right ear.

That opened his mouth right up, the wizard screaming.

"Answer the question."

"WATCHING!" he roared, bloody spittle bubbling out between his teeth. "Watching for Harry Potter!"

"No shit," Fred said from his seat. "Why?"

The cowboy hat on the wizard had slipped almost sideways. Jake's addition to the man would have been almost funny, had the wizard's chin and teeth not been covered in blood, lips curled back in a sneer. At Fred's voice Callum swiveled his head at that awkward, strained angle to eye the Weasley twin, an almost feral look about him.

Still, he didn't answer.

Kally felt sick, but shoved the glass up to the man's throat anyway.

At the prickling of blood from just above his carotid he finally talked. "Because Dumbledore's Order moves him to those blood traitors on his birthday every year and we were to intercept and kill him."

Her stomach gave a sickening thud. Her fingers clenched around the glass, her palm and pointer finger screaming as the sharp edges dug into her skin, but she didn't let it go. She wanted to feel the lancing pain. The trace unicorn blood within her would heal her eventually. But right now she clenched even harder, the pain grounding her so that she wouldn't lash out and stab him then and there. He'd been sent here to kill Harry…

Slowly, slowly she moved the glass' edge away from his throat.

Kally didn't trust herself. Regulus had once told her she was a born killer, whether she knew it or not. Harry had nearly taken off his head for the comment, but right now…

Right now, feeling the desire burning through her veins to just lash out and end this wizard, she couldn't help but think that Black had been right.

Until that moment she'd not know how it was possible to feel sick and murderous all at once. Before, when she had actually killed, there had been only hate.

It was as if he had sensed herthoughts.

"We will," the wizard growled, his vicious gaze turning to look directly at her, "kill him."

Kally hissed, in pain, "Funny. Hasn't worked out so well for you yet, has it?" She didn't expect an answer but he gave her one anyway.

"No."

Admissions of failure?

Veritaserum could be funny, sometimes.

She shook her head, another lock of hair falling free of her ponytail's confines. "So why are you still here? You obviously missed him."

"No, we didn't. Dumbledore will find a way to get him back to Hogwarts," he said, his resolute belief in that disturbing.

Jake, his wand arm still extended and no doubt hurting by now, snorted with clear derision. "Lot of good that'll do if they just portkey or apparate him out."

There was silence for a moment.

And then the Death Eater started to laugh. It was a cold laugh. A triumphant laugh.

Blood bubbled out between a gap in his teeth, dripped down his chin, and he just laughed.

Jake and her exchanged looks, the blonde haired wizard shifting his eyes abruptly back to his prisoner. "Care to share with the class?"

Through the blood and spittle and drool the Death Eater lifted his dark eyes and sneered, "That won't work."

For the first time since they'd started Fred's head darted up, a furrow creasing his brow. "What the hell do you mean it won't work?"

He didn't answer right away, but a glass shard pressed against his carotid enticed him too. "We destroyed the street!" he burst. "No one can apparate in or out. Anyone who uses portkeys will get splinched in half."

Kally froze. She might not be a witch, but she understood enough about splinching to know it was bad. "Fred…" she said, eyes darting to his.

He'd paled considerably, and for a freckled red-head that was saying something. "The rest of the Order…"

Jake looked grim. "Explains why they're late getting here."

Fred jumped to his feet, accidentally kicking the bow off the other Death Eater. "I have to-"

"Go," Jake agreed. He had to warn the arriving Order members. If they apparated or portkeyed in they could be splinched and out of commission for awhile, and healing from injuries like those could take weeks.

Fred was already halfway out of the room, his sleeve rolled up and a charm muttered at his tattoo when Kally shouted, "Wait!"

He sputtered to a halt, sliding on the tile and smacking into the wall. He looked annoyed for a half second, "Kally I have to-"

She ignored him, whirling to the Death Eater. "How far do the anti-apparation and portkey barriers extend?" she demanded, and when he didn't answer she hissed angrily, shoving the glass directly under his chin and forcing his head up, blood dribbling down as she shouted, "WHERE!?"

The Death Eater grunted in pain. "Ten blocks."

Kally felt ice flood her blood. "Jake, how long have we been here...?"

"A half hour. Not quite," he said.

It seemed longer, somehow.

They'd walked right in. They'd walked farther than ten blocks, and started their mock 'Girl Guides hustle' several streets away from Privet Drive to make it look realistic for any watching Death Eaters. Ginny, Neville and George were doing the same, only from the opposite direction.

"Ten blocks. Ten blocks," she muttered, trying to think. "That's almost three kilometers." Her head whipped towards Jake and Fred, her ponytail smacking the Death Eater in the face. "Isn't it?"

Fred shot her a confounded look as if she'd lost her mind if she expected him to know. Jake just frowned, brow creased deep in thought. "Just under two miles…convert to metric and…" His eyes shot up. "Yes."

Her veins fully froze. "They're probably all splinched by now..."

That was all the information Fred needed to stop him in place, the wizard already walking out of the Death Eater's line of sight. Before, when he'd revealed the tattoo and cast the message charm the Death Eaters had been unconscious, but now, with one most definitely awake…

They couldn't risk the wizard overhearing the revealing charm or finding out how they communicated. Obliviation only did so much.

Oblivation…there it was again, something gnawing at the back of her mind. Kally closed her eyes and shook her head forcefully, dispelling whatever it was.

Her eyes snapped back open, trusting Fred to warn everyone – though she suspected it was already too late – her irises locking onto the Death Eater's dark ones. "What's your plan then? Since you think Dumbledore's moving Harry to Hogwarts?" Her voice was cold, icy.

The Death Eater scowled. "We're staged all along this road," he snarled. "And when he moves Potter to Hogwarts we'll attack."

All along this road…

Kally instantly looked towards the window, her heartbeat racing. There were other Death Eaters here. What if they'd seen everything before? What if…

She shifted her attention back to Callum Taylor, needing information before they were interrupted. Kally shoved the shard to his throat. "Did the others see us?"

His lips curled. "They'd be here by now if they had. Goyle probably fell asleep again. You ."

Kally processed that but didn't feel relief. "And Harry? What if Dumbledore doesn't move him, then what?"

It looked like he was trying to resist answering, and with a small snarl she sliced open the bottom of his chin, the wizard howling. "We're to burn the street to the ground!"

"What do you mean the whole street?" Jake cut in, voice firm and serious.

Dark eyes under meticulously kept eyebrows shifted his way. "Every home. Every vehicle. Every Muggle, man woman and child. We are to destroy them and anything that gets in our way."

It was like a hand had reached directly into her chest, icy and cold, and snared around her heart. She stared at him, her eyes wide and flashing gold for the briefest of seconds. "When?"

The wizard looked at her with such sudden comprehension, having seen the flash of gold, recognizing what she was, and it should have terrified her. It didn't. But what he said next did.

His voice erupted in a cold, cruel, bloodied laugh, his words amused, as if discussing a particularly funny film that he'd so enjoyed. "Tonight," he told cruelly. "Midnight."

Everyone went silent, Fred the one to finally break it all the way from the hallway. "Fuck…"

Jake made an angered sound, the wizard's wand still extended, still levitating the bastard, but he took several steps closer, grabbing Callum's chin and wrenching his head towards him. "What are you using? To destroy the street? What?"

"What else?" he laughed. "Fiendfyre and the undead."

Jake sucked in a breath, Kally's eyes darting to his. They locked eyes, and she knew, instantly, that whatever fiendfyre was, that it wasn't good. "Do I want to-"

"No," he said quickly, "ya really don't."

Her heart sped up even more.

Ultimately neither needed to ask to know how well and truly fucked they were. Because they were. They really were.

Jake's wand slammed the Death Eater into the fireplace, the bricks nearly shaking with the impact, the wizard letting out voluminous bellows as something within both his legs snapped simultaneously. Kally was left standing there, clutching the bloodied shard of glass she'd been using, blood dripping from her fingertips to the once white floor. She could hear Jake making demands, wanting to know how they were getting the undead here, what the details of the plans were, but she drowned it out.

Instead she just stood there, feeling her arm warming up as Fred sent his message charm, someone else finally sending one back.

And when Fred swore she knew it wasn't anything good.