Chapter 25: A Wary Homecoming
A steady storm of large flakes was stacking against the windows of The Burrow, however the heat from a roaring hearth inside melted any snow that piled higher than the lower sills. If one found themselves desperately trapped in the formidable storm, they would immediately see the ferociously flickering windows promising solace like a lighthouse amongst the icy sea. Inside, the Potters and Weasleys were also cavorting about in constant motion. Molly was putting the finishing touches on five different pies with Hugo (chocolate, apple, mulberry, key lime, and sweet potato) while Ginny looked for places to store her and Harry's food, trying to stay out the way of her mother's flying utensils. George and Angie had arrived the day before and were chatting with Bill and Fleur. Charlie had surprised everyone by returning from his current post in Kiev. He currently was capturing most of the children's attention with fantastical tales of new dragon species and gathering knowledge of them through centaurs and giants. A few of the children, including Rosie, Al, and Bill's oldest, Victoire, were patiently helping Arthur as he struggled to start Christmas music on an old muggle Gramophone without using a spell (it ruins the spirit of these machines!). Percy had also returned, though was decidedly less merry than his brothers. He currently sat at the edge of the long dining table with Hermione, icing smiley gingerbread men while talking in low tones and a persistent scowl.
"It is just my feeling that Malfoy should not be entrusted with such information"
Hermione blinked wearily at her brother-in-law and colleague, "It is a matter of skill and secrecy, Percy. Malfoy could fix this issue on his own while all other options require at least three people to understand these things. Its old and specific expertise and the fewer people to know, the better."
Percy's frown had not retreated, "Yes but three people with no weaknesses…." Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. "Look Hermione," Percy continued, " I dealt with Draco as a Prefect and now as a supervisor. I've never had to correct a report he's turned in and honestly, he impresses me with how much he's changed. But his family Hermione, his family- his father- he'll know exactly what we're up to if he even lets one detail slip of this…project"
"It's not bias Hermione, I…. I try very hard with him to not be" Percy's features became more gentle as Hermione still eyed him doubtfully, "If you really feel he is a safe option then I trust your opinion… but I'm not the only person you'll need to convince." In his haste he had accidentally snapped a gingerbread and offered a half-frosted arm to Hermione as a peace offering.
Finally Hermione seemed to relax, "Thanks Perce, it means a lot to hear even that. I… I'm so terrified of having to make these decisions. I felt much better making someone else act on my ideas than doing it myself."
The two chuckled as Molly glanced over from the other side of the kitchen. She smiled, relieved to see them less serious. She rarely ventured out of St. Ottery, but Molly Weasley could tell something was amiss in the professional wizarding world. Ron and Harry had both mentioned upticks in suspicious incidents involving muggle-born wizards, even those too young to be enrolled in Hogwarts and essentially undetectable to the Ministry. And Hermione…. Molly gazed upon her beloved daughter-in-law with both admiration and trepidation. Ron had hastily explained her appointment to Minister a few days after her swearing-in, awfully bereft of an explanation for the sudden promotion or the appropriate celebratory air. And throughout the fall Hermione had been gone from home for weeks, returning sometimes in the early morning with puffy eyes and day-old makeup smudges. Molly had taken up the task of distracting a curious Hugo (joyfully discovering his enthusiasm for baking). Ron had been an absolute darling husband but was understandably frustrated with how little information she could give him. She and her son often spent long, early-morning hours in the kitchen; Ron finishing Auror reports at the table while she pattered around him baking muffins and pastries… should someone return home. She'd catch him glancing at the old family clock, watching the hand covering Hermione remaining stubbornly at "Work".
Presently, Molly rested her eyes on the clock, which was clucking merrily with so many members now "Home." She remembered a time long ago when the arms of her entire family were stuck at "Grave Danger" and could not help but wonder if the secret issues of the Ministry would force those hands again. As she looked, the hands of Harry started moving from "Work" to "Home," and moments later, the dark-haired man pushed through the front door in a whirlwind of flurries. Lily had appeared at the doorway to the kitchen and ran up to her father, "Papa! Where's Uncle Ron?"
"He'll be here soon, very soon Lilypad," Harry playfully spun his daughter around but when he locked eyes on Molly, they betrayed a more urgent matter, "What have you been up to?" Harry set down Lily and walked naturally over to Molly.
"Charlie lived with Giants! They played with a child who was Twelve feet! They haven't even got to the stories with elves- tall elves!" Lily bounced around the table and Hermione slipped her a newly frosted gingerbread, eyeing Harry with interest.
"Well you can't miss that story now!" Harry gently ushered his youngest back into the den before swiftly turning back to Molly, Hermione, and Percy, "Something's come up and Ron will be here soon."
"I haven't heard of an incident?" Hermione tapped her wand to bring up the last notifications from work, but Harry shook his head, "It wasn't an official call-in and, as of now, off-record…"
"A personal call?" Hermione knitted her brows as Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley, "I hate to ask but is there anyway a few more visitors can stay?"
Molly blinked, "Why of course! There's more food than necessary, even with this hoard. How many…."
A second wind of snow blew into the entryway as Ron appeared, guiding an amorphous mass of nine other people, covered in blankets and wearing a mix of pjs, boots, and caps. This time, Lily and Rosie appeared near the kitchen, with the latter recognizing one of the smaller bundles, "Aldo, Aldo Creevey?"
Two eyes sleepily acknowledged Rosie and then James, who had come over after hearing his friend's name. He was clutching a sizable box of photos. Ron shut the door and was hurriedly gathering the dampening blankets and winter gear from the Creevey family, "James, if you would, throw these in the laundry to dry, " tossing the pile to his nephew, "Rosie please get some slippers for our guests or wool socks at least, and help the Potters move into your room, we'll have the parents put up in ours….. Louis! Roxanne! Albus! Lucy! Take these up and line the boots down in the back…" Slowly the commotion had led the children from the den to the kitchen and Ron tossed items from the Creeveys' to the nearest hands.
Aldo made a start to follow James up the stairs, "I'll just put these up there myself Mr. Weasley," he gestured to the box of photos.
"That's fine son, just hurry down for dinner… and call me Ron- 'Mr. Weasley' doesn't narrow down the options in this house," Ron winked at the boy and visibly relaxed himself. He turned to the four adults, which included Dennis and his wife, as well as his parents. They stared awestruck and delighted at the magically bustling kitchen that was setting its own table. "We'll get you all fed soon if you'd like to take a seat…"
Aldo rushed to catch up with James, and the two met Rosie and Albus in the guest room where the Potter children were staying.
Albus was throwing clothing into his siblings' suitcases and paused as he saw Aldo enter. Rosie immediately went to shut the door, though not before a nosy Lily scampered in. James spoke up first, "Aldo what happened?" he eyed the box of photos, "Did someone break in to 'This and That's?"
The boy shook his head, "No we always celebrate Christmas at my grandparents'…I…I just brought photos I took last term-see! Here's you!" He procured a photo of James catching a snitch in a match against Ravenclaw. " They're muggles but they really do like Quidditch…"
Rosie persistently interrupted Aldo, "So did something happen at your Grandparents' house?"
Aldo's face dropped and he turned to place the box on a windowsill. "Something caught fire… we… it was very fast, not like an accident…"
The Potters and Rosie stood silently, waiting for more from their friend, but Aldo seemed content with his story and looked expectantly at the door.
"Yeah, let's go eat…" Albus offered and the boy nodded, relieved.
The group was the last to return to the kitchen and Albus paused slightly on the steps to take in the scene before him. The adult Creeveys had taken the center spots of the long dining table, and Dennis was talking intently to Hermione, Harry and Percy. From their expressions, Albus could deduce that they also were aware of the reason for the unexpected visit. Aldo's Grandparents were smiling from ear to ear as they watched the multitude of children squeeze themselves onto the two benches that ran down the sides of the table. Amazingly no matter how many extra bodies filled up the seats, there always seemed to be more room for another. Arthur Weasley sat at the head of the table near the children, excitedly pointing to the trays of dessert with equal enthusiasm as his young counterparts. Molly was walking around the benches, waving her wand to start the various dishes serving the food and adding the odd cushion under some of the smaller guests. Aldo had plopped himself between is siblings and seemed happier to be in the commotion. Finally, he locked eyes with Lily, who patted the space next her, causing it to expand.
Albus joined his sister just as Mrs. Weasley, satisfied with her rounds, stood at the head of the long table and raised a glass. "I know it's been a long evening for many of you so I'll keep things short. Welcome Creevey family," Her eyes rested warmly upon the visitors, "To a full house and full bellies! Merry Christmas!"
"Huzzah!" cried Teddy, eliciting wild laughter from Louis and the young Creevey children. From there the table sprang alive with chit chat and jokes between moments of gulping down delicious helpings of food. As the treats disappeared, the empty plates and dishes began to wash in the sink and the crowd moved into the den.
"Oh my! What an exquisite turntable!" Aldo's Grandmother beamed as she scampered over to the antique. A look of hope alighted on Arthur Weasley's features and he followed her, grabbing a record, "I don't suppose you know how to use it?"
Festive Melodies soon filled the flickering living room and Al listened from a distance to Charlie's resumption of his adventures. The current story was largely at the expense of his brother, Percy, who had briefly met up while on his latest diplomacy trip. As Charlie laughed heartily at his brother's protests, James appeared near his side and nudged him.
"Aldo took his sisters up to bed- He didn't seem in the mood to talk more and I think he'll stay up there with him."
Al nodded sympathetically. James had taken Aldo under his wing early in the year, but found that the spirited boy was actually good company and could take an amazing photograph every so often. His shoulders sagged as he listened to the Weasley uncles now joining in, reminiscing on just how much of a prat Percy could be, clearly worried for his young friend. "It's just another mystery I suppose, like all the others." He muttered.
"Yeah, something's up," Al replied. Despite the cheery atmosphere, he'd caught glimpses of a certain uneasiness that would settle into the adults' features when they thought the kids weren't looking. Lily even mentioned that Grandma Molly had restricted the younger children's' outdoor games, preferring them to stay in the den where she could keep a watchful eye.
The Daily Prophet had become a staple at the Dining Halls as the last month of the semester began. Before that, a few students had mentioned the odd-off occurrence. Some concerning, but isolated and far from causing a panic. And then it seemed like everyone had a story- a primary tutor who'd been confounded, strange and deadly plants suddenly sprouting in known magical neighborhoods, muggle disappearances, an attack. They happened so concurrently that the Prophet was able to piece together an intriguing tale of organized mayhem, circumventing the need for Auror cooperation. Al would nervously chew his lip as he read through these accounts, but nothing near to a werewolf attack had been mentioned…
What was noticeable was the striking dearth of strange experiences felt by the Slytherin House, which only intensified the hallway battles. McGonagall had taken to personally giving out detentions to the instigators and no less than thirty students occupied an old, unused classroom each week. Often Al and Scorpius found themselves among the punished, doing lines until their hands cramped and making it very hard to finish their essays afterward. Al didn't take it too personally, knowing McGonagall was justifiably preoccupied with much more pressing matters than to discriminate between the aggressors and defenders. However, Jade, Quinn, and Vanessa, also recurrent attendees, had only deepened their dislike of the Headmaster.
James sunk back, leaning into his perch on the armchair Al was sitting on, "Dad knows something about it for sure, I haven't seen him look this stressed since…" He trailed off, frowning slightly.
One of the things James had admitted to Al after their row at school was that he'd also been terrified when Harry came home confounded. "I don't know Al, you feel things- like you get into a funk over stuff like that- but you always pull yourself out. I just… it was easier to pretend like nothing was wrong. But I really wasn't there for you and Lily and I don't like to think about it much because I never really got over it. It's like I'm scared to be scared."
That made Al feel much less weak, but he had to admit that the holidays had left him emotional and frustrated. Obviously, a great deal of things had occurred while he and his brother were off at school and he didn't like the starkness of those changes and the effect it had on his parents. They weren't fighting, but clearly strained. Rose had mentioned the same about his Aunt and Uncle. And Harry was withdrawn. Al spotted his Dad sitting somewhat away from the Weasley brothers, unfocused to the conversation in front of him. Al watched him intermittently for some time, but dozed off before he managed to catch his eye.
Albus awoke many hours later and again found that someone had taken him to bed. As sleep lifted slowly from him, he became aware of a striking coldness from his bare feet. Squeezed between several bodies as the cousins shared their beds, Al's legs were dangling off the edge, far away from the warmth of the quilt. Someone was squirming near him as well, and soon the small, blanketed knot unraveled enough to reveal Lily, murmuring uncomfortably next to him.
"Al, my tummy" she managed to make out in her wavering stupor.
Al couldn't help but smirk as he recalled one of the last waking memories of the night where his sister had managed to sneak away no less than three plum tarts and the last slice of key lime pie. Still, he patted her head, "Would water help?"
Lily blinked gratefully and returned to an uneasy rocking. Al silently slipped from the bed, wincing as cold feet touched even colder floors. He spotted a pair of slippers near the edge of Rosie's bed and donned them, slinking out of the bedroom and down towards the kitchen. The stairs wound around the tower three times before descending into the common kitchen and den and passed beneath several windows strung with heavy curtains, hanging plants and Christmas decorations. At the last turn Al peered through the lowest window in the tower, which faced his grandparent's spire. He noticed the lights in the private kitchenette were on and several figures passed through the emitting light. As he reached the kitchen, he could hear tense muttering and recognized his father's and Uncle Ron's voices, as well as his Uncle Percy. Quietly he filled a glass of water, his ears straining to mold words out of the undulating tones. With no avail, Al turned back towards the stairs.
"Malfoy! Are you bloody mad!" Al stopped in his tracks at his schoolmate's name.
"Ronald, I told you I wasn't going to discuss this further! I told you he would react this way," Hermione sounded tired and annoyed. Al heard his Uncle Percy chime in, "Well it's not like this is a decision to be made without input..."
"No!" Hermione seemed to stop the shout that escaped her. For a second the adults seemed to quiet, scared that they might disturb the sleeping children. Then, more measuredly, Hermione continued, "You think I haven't weighed other options? Malf- Draco just has the best knowledge of how these things work- Minerva has exhausted the expertise of the other professors and it's becoming hard to find the skills while keeping the matter secret."
"And do we get to know this 'matter' you speak of?" Ron sounded hurt, though Hermione's tone remained firm as she replied, "Obviously it would greatly benefit me to have someone to.. well… my goodness I feel like I'm about to explode these days it's… there's so little time…and it's very damaged…" she trailed off more softly and Al heard her sniffle, with a couple of shifting sounds of others reaching out to comfort her. Percy spoke up firmly, "Ron, as someone familiar with more of this I beseech you to have some patience. This isn't something to be dealt with lightly."
More carefully, Ron spoke again, "Dear, I… and Harry too. We can't help but notice that we've come across some nasty incidents lately and, well, the usual suspects are awaiting trial so we can't help but think that maybe there are new threats coming about…"
"Francesca has informed me of the incidents. From what I gather, the attacks are crude but they could be even pulled off by muggles. What Dark wizards would risk that kind of discovery? I mean there are ways to cover up magic- it's protocol really… and no, none involved fire."
A new voice perked up, likely Dennis Creevey, "Ron already had me give a description but I know the fire was unusual- it wasn't animated or anything but it was so blue, it looked like the fire from the Triwizard tournament and I felt….cold. Painfully cold."
"I've no idea what spell that could be…" Hermione contemplated, "Which is more concerning since its clearly not sanctioned or, I mean it takes a certain level of intelligence to conjure your own usable spell…"
But Ron jumped in, "I don't know, it was rather unsophisticated- Harry put it out with the aguamenti charm in seconds- those muggle firemen could have handled it. There's plenty of known fire spells that are resistant to such easy counters. I mean perhaps he's practicing but the other attacks as well were easily combated- the Vane twins aren't even ten yet and their untrained magic was able to overcome their kidnapping."
The incident in question had been one of the first murmured around Hogwarts. Alice Vane, a fourth year Gryffindor that replaced Adrian on the Quidditch team had been informed before a match that her grandmother had been injured and her younger brothers attacked by an unknown curse that had transfigured their bedroom into a rapidly shrinking box. Scared out of their minds, one boy managed to melt himself through a wall while the other somehow blew a sharp wind, obliterating the entire structure but also accidentally cutting his grandmother. That boy was still in St. Mungo's, traumatized from hurting her and refusing to perform magic. James had sent him the winning snitch from last year's House Cup game, which seemed to have brightened his spirits.
"We don't even know if those incidences are connected Ron…" Hermione replied cautiously, "But it is a connection worth exploring- Percy, perhaps we can have some of the Wizengamot overview these cases again. And maybe your department could hold a training refresher to the Aurors on some simple curse counters."
"Sure thing," Bill Weasley replied.
"Well at least there's solutions to this problem potentially," Hermione concluded as the table quieted once more.
Al's ears perked at the sound of his Dad. From inside the room, Harry had been staring at the table that separated himself from Hermione as if he were discerning some pattern, his eyes darting towards invisible pieces of information that his mind laid out before him. As the conversation drifted, he tuned out the distraction but now broke the second stretch of silence, "Can it really survive fiendfyre?"
Hermione blanched. Taking her reaction as a verified puzzle piece, he was now deeply thinking of the implications.
"But who would you need to move from Diagon Alley? Or can these things be trained for other destinations?"
No one else at the table had a clue about what was going on, but the tension had violently sprung back between the two friends. Ron eyed Harry for hints toward his train of thought, but found nothing, "Oi mate Diagon Alley, Fiendfyre? How does Malfoy figure into that?" He decided to be impressed, "well at least one of us got sharper after school…"
Hermione was less enthusiastic, "Draco thinks they can be modified for other locations and we need them for several …. Erm targets so… it's a matter of volume and secrecy really… I…I'm repeating myself…. I don't know any other way."
Harry looked confounded, "What do you mean by volume? Like wizards? Refugees?"
"That's a way to put it I guess… we… we've tried more direct extractions but they…they …." And Hermione gave an awful sob, "They'd rather kill them than let them escape and it's horrible!" She looked pleadingly around the room and found severely concerned faces eyeing her and each other. Arthur Weasley spoke, grasping Hermione's shoulder and giving it a squeeze, "Perhaps we all need to sleep this off. I think our Minister knows better than all of us what's at stake and, well, I've put my trust in far less capable folk.
Hermione's eyes were watery and grateful, though she looked sharply at Harry before nudging back her seat and Harry knew they would reconvene tomorrow about the topic.
At the sound of the adults shuffling around the kitchen, Al came out of his curious trance. After his escapade with Scorpius into the dungeons, Al couldn't shake the feeling that Hermione's 'refugees' were more children with Lycanthropy (the proper term for werewolf as he'd recently learned). Seeing the Markov's had been difficult, as the twins' odd habits now began to make sense in the context of their condition. In Al's opinion Scorpius could also be making a better attempt at including the twins in their day-to-day activities. Despite his promise, his friend was awfully more frightened at their classmate's condition and showed it. It was causing a small, but growing tension between them.
He reached for the glass of water for Lily but found it was no longer on the table where he was certain he'd set it. Feeling the door of the kitchen could open any moment, he scurried toward the stairs and came across yet another curious sight. The glass was levitating… no it was being gently jostled toward the foot of the stairs, where Lily had crept down and was singularly concentrating. As her brother appeared, Lily started slightly and the glass lurched, spilling water and looking about to topple. Al grabbed the glass and motioned for her to hurry up the stairs. Once just outside of their bedroom, he finally felt safe enough to talk. "Lily how?" Al nodded at the glass.
His sister shrugged, still quite groggy from her uncomfortable sleep, "I have to get a lot of stuff on my own now without you two here…" and sipped her water, "I've never done a glass before though, mostly just frisbees that get stuck on the roof and sweets Mum hides…"
"That's quite good," said Al, impressed, "Have you showed Mum and Dad?"
Lily looked forlorn, "They haven't been much around since you've gone, I've been staying with Grandpa and Grandma mostly. I listen as well, but it's much more fun with you and James. McGonagall comes by a lot. She was talking about forest enchantments and security at Hogwarts but mostly she's been picking up packages that come here."
"Packages?" said Al, wondering why something needed to be sent to the Burrow of all places, instead of directly to Hogwarts, "What type of packages?"
"All sorts really. Most are large but they're different shapes." Lily paused, "I accidentally opened one and it was only pillows. Strange right?"
Al feigned confusion but he knew where the extra bedding was going. He followed his sister back into the bedroom. A small window overhead revealed the blackness of the dead night was slowly receding, but there would probably be a few more hours of sleep to catch. He sighed, " A lot has changed since I've been gone."
His sister sipped her water thoughtfully, "You've changed too though." Al raised his eyebrows, "Have I?"
"You're not so nervous, I guess. Or off by yourself with your nose in a book." She smiled kindly, "It's not a bad change."
As Lily settled beside him, Al drifted into a vivid sleep, where he tried to escape a shrinking home only to be engulfed by blue flames, with only a pillow to beat them back.